MOVIE REVIEW: Fantastic Mr. Fox

by Jonathan Doyle

People necessarily take short cuts when reviewing movies -- particularly in conversation -- but cribbing your thoughts from reviews you've read is the height of disrespect for the art of cinema. Since virtually nobody in the world uses the words "twee" or "precious" to describe anything except Wes Anderson films (and maybe Belle & Sebastian records), you have to wonder why virtually every anti-Anderson critique relies so heavily, lazily and incorrectly on these two words. The problem, I suppose, is that it wouldn't sound like a criticism if you called these films "fastidious," "polished" or "exacting" instead. Let's face it, "precious" and "twee" are more annoying words.

This kind of group-think makes sense as Anderson-bashing (as opposed to Anderson indifference or love-hate) is a cult more than a well-considered position. In the absence of actual beliefs or ideology, some people assume a wildly cynical, jaded mentality, which conveniently makes everything an easy target. Call it South Park disease. Wes Anderson infuriates people who have this mentality because there are so many strong, rigid beliefs in his work, whether aesthetic, social, political or metaphysical. And how dare he be so mysteriously hopeful in a time of omnipresent, conformist negativism?

Stanley Kubrick's films were detailed and specific in much the same way as Anderson's, but he was rarely condemned for this because people don't want to appear primitive in the face of his super-dark, semi-misanthropic, seemingly enlightened worldview. Anderson's perspective, on the other hand, is so warm, accepting and unthreatening that there's no real danger in condemning it.

If Anderson's humanism is a sticking point for you, it should be noted that Fantastic Mr. Fox is actually somewhat anti-humanistic -- the "humans" are all pretty repellant -- but this is replaced by a worthy, metaphorically resonant substitute: foxanism (or is it just foxism?).

Now that all the necessary Wes Anderson generalities are out of the way, the following needs to be said: Fantastic Mr. Fox is the ultimate Wes Anderson film. For better (my opinion) or worse (the Anderson-hating perspective), it builds upon all of Anderson's past triumphs: there's Bottle Rocket-style robberies, Rushmore-style loneliness, Royal Tenenbaums-style strained family relations, etc. More importantly, Anderson invests everything with his trademark interest in moments, rather than simply serving the bigger picture. This is not to suggest that the film fails as a whole, it just triumphs most in individual moments.

Rather than exhaustively review the film as a whole and risk repeating what you already know about Anderson's well-defined aesthetic -- though it should be noted that the performances are all incredibly appealing and Anderson's visual ideas are pretty astonishing -- here's an overview of a few especially memorable moments:

The train set slumber party. This is a definite throwback to the bunk bed scene between Chas and his sons in The Royal Tenenbaums, but the emotional precision here is really touching. I don't want to spoil this very brief scene, but it proves that Anderson understands the power of contradictory relationships like virtually no other filmmaker. The sly, jerky movements of the foxes underline the scene's delicate emotional currents and the poetic gesture that concludes the scene speaks volumes with its simple, casual beauty.

Farmer Bean's over-the-top tantrum. People have a tendency to forget the anarchic spirit that Anderson's films are infused with -- from the Max vs. Blume destruction montage in Rushmore to the flagrant acts of theft throughout his filmography -- but there has never been an Anderson sequence with quite the unbridled chaos of this tantrum. In fact, one area where Anderson has really run with the potential of animation is in the manic behaviour of his characters, from intense food-eating (foxes really love to eat in this movie, which makes their food deprivation all-the-more tragic), crazed digging and even some hand-to-hand combat.

Mr. Fox's mumbling brainstorm-to-self. To say that George Clooney was game for the challenge of voicing Mr. Fox is a severe understatement. Not to be too hyperbolic about it, but this may be my favorite voice performance of all time. His rapid-fire delivery is full of energy, enthusiasm and intelligence, showing genuine respect (rather than condescension) for the kids in the audience. Mr. Fox's mumbling brainstorm-to-self isn't necessarily the best example of this, but it illustrates the degree to which Clooney brings a strong interpretation to the scenes, rather than simply reading the lines. The entire cast is impeccable in this way.

The Black Panther salute. I'm not sure I was correct in my pre-movie read on this sequence, but the general thrust is roughly what I suspected. This also turns out to be another anarchic, pleasantly individualistic touch that is visually stunning and enigmatic in much the same way as the scene late in The Life Aquatic when Zissou and his crew is separated from their dog.

Mr. Fox's concluding speech. This is a sort of late movie mission statement from Mr. Fox that summarizes his complex worldview and also serves as a kind of all-purpose tribute to friendship and solidarity, while still doing-things-your-own-way. It's one of many borderline tear-jerking moments in a film that elevates its genre miles above any reasonable expectations. Anderson didn't just make a children's film that parents can tolerate, he made a children's film that parents can love -- maybe even more than their kids.

But what really sets this film apart is the insight and humanity (let's face it, these are incredibly human animals) of the characterizations. Using foxes as a metaphor for human frailty allows Anderson to deal with serious themes (ie. mortality) in a light-hearted, but no less credible way. Whereas this kind of material could get a little silly in, say, The Royal Tenenbaums -- that suicide attempt was all-over-the-map, from goofy to "She Smiled Sweetly"-worthy melancholy -- the Roald Dahl source material gives Anderson just the right framework to tackle the themes that interest him most in the style that suits him best.

While I can't imagine this film will do much for those who already have trouble with Anderson's films, the rest of us get to savor an inspiring triumph of cinematic imagination and, in all likelihood, the best film of 2009.