Likely destined to follow in the footsteps of its animated, robotic predecessor
The Iron Giant (into some level of obscurity and cult-like reverence), Astro Boy is in every respect a stronger, more worthwhile film than most everything
that actually aims at kids that has come along in decades. Perhaps a statement
that is startlingly bold, but among the recent competition, animated films are
either – only for kids in a sort of sideways sense ( Up, Wall-E), or appeal
to them largely in the simplest terms, and in some cases as though we do not
have a great deal of respect for them (I won’t name names).
Nothing really against a solid effort of simplest terms, by the way. There is
certainly something to be said for a movie for kids that is upfront about
delivering an excuse for a good many gags, because kids are going to have a good
time. On the other hand, Astro Boy, like The Iron Giant, is built solidly on the
foundational idea that kids, ultimately, are just really brilliant. That they
happen to be, in many respects, rather easily entertained is not something we
should pay much attention to.
To a great extent a kind of Super Pinocchio story, Astro Boy is created when an
accident of robotics results in the death of the world’s most brilliant
scientist’s son. Dr. Tenma (Nicolas Cage), in a fit of despair, uses his son’s
DNA to make the most powerful robot the world has ever known (in a world filled
with robots), complete with his son’s memories.
Unfortunately, the new Toby, while having the memories and DNA-manufactured
dispositions (I guess) of the old Toby, is nevertheless quite a different “boy.”
He acts with a different character, and simply has other influences on him as a
“person.” To Dr. Tenma’s dismay, it turns out that instead of bringing his boy
back, he has only managed to create a “living” representation of not-Tobyness,
and he is left more haunted by his son’s death than before.
Toby learns that his father wants to deactivate him. At the same time, the evil
President of Metro City learns that the blue core (just play along) was not
destroyed in that initial experiment gone wrong, and is in fact powering Toby.
Unwanted by his father, and all too wanted by President Stone, Toby accidentally
escapes to our somewhat spun Pleasure Island, which is the surface of the
planet. We discover that Metro City is a floating city, and that the surface of
the planet is mostly a waste of scrap that Metro City simply chucks overboard.
Toby finds a band of orphans who are led by robot tech Ham Egg (and yes, events
will unfold in a kind of “theater” angle), and like everyone else on the
surface, it is a group of the unwanted and outcast trying to make do with what
they can.
Events at this point transpire much as you might imagine from a plot arc
perspective, but the relevant score here is not what happens, but how it
happens. While only occasionally funny, Astro Boy is more fun by miles than
anything all year. Your child will not burst out laughing every few minutes, but
will instead inch forward in their seat, eyes bulging, filled with the kind of
wonder rarely witnessed outside of Ralphie staring through the store window at
Red Rider.
Even the slower bits of exposition manage that perfect balance of talking to
children, without talking down to them, and work the necessary plot steps like a
book they just can’t put down.
It is an interesting statement that animated films aimed at kids (and films
aimed at kids in general) have largely moved away from truly making any attempt
at “thrilling.” Even the best of them are only fun and funny, perhaps mildly
adventurous, but they are not thrilling. Children may want to go and buy all the
toys when the thing is over, but they are not spent. They may imagine the
characters flying off to save the day even, but they do not fly themselves.
Astro Boy is hard to describe without using the word “thrilling.” It is wonder
itself to the proper pair of eyes, and like a roller-coaster, may not particular
inspire anyone to demand a certain toy, or laugh (technically speaking), but
will instead move most to dance, jump, roar, and scream their way back into
line.
Director/co-writer David Bowers has worked on several of the more interesting
(though not the best) animated films since 1990, and he has apparently learned
his lessons well. In some way involved with – Ferngully: The Last Rainforest,
Balto, The Prince of Egypt, Chicken Run, Flushed Away, and more, he has
taken the stronger abilities of all those films with him into this one, and it
is impressive to see the progression of his own work.
From what we’ll pretend is a very trained, adult perspective, I have some
reservations about a few things. A little too here, maybe a shorter version of
this scene there, a tweaking of the evilness of our evil… perhaps there are
several things. In time they may bother me more, or I may not notice them at
all. But, there certainly are some very legitimate points one might make about
the film. I for one am not of a mind to try and explain these points to the 8 to
12 year-olds whooping and zooming their way out of the theater.
That is only true (for there are stupid, useless movies kids love too) because
while my own eight year-old cannot explain the meaning of the film particularly
well, he can make it clear that he understands it. And, that’s actually what
stories are for.
