Story Notes for Despicable Me

First of all, let’s get the ranking out of the way. We’re talking 10 out of 10 on this motion picture.

“Light bulb!” is the funniest line in a script full of terrific dialog. But the picture is so much more than jokes and sight gags. The humor in Despicable Me grows organically from the characters, with their funny gestures and funny attitudes.

A quick plot summary—a criminal master-mind tricks three little orphan girls into pulling a swindle—makes the story sound like a string of stereotypical characters in a recycled parody of an old Saturday morning cartoon. But this picture delivers a fresh surprise at every corner, and creates a very contemporary, yet timeless story.

So what makes Despicable Me feel so unique? It’s filled with plenty of self-referential nods to ubiquitous media imagery. Post-modern sensibility so often leads to been there, done that. What raises this picture above that trap?

I did enough research to learn that Despicable Me was animated by an international crew centered in Paris. The Production Designer, Yarrow Chaney—bless him, soaked in the architectural grandeur and romance of the city and it spilled back out of him and his story artists and onto the screen. The color palette is deep, sensuous and the spaces are filled with lofty ceilings . . . and space. Very appropriate for a story in which the main character reaches for the moon.

Even though the story is not set in France, Paris is at the heart of the film, and the multi-cultural crew marinates Despicable Me in a worldly sensibility. Yes, the visuals are sophisticated, and yes the soundtrack moves from classical to edgy and back, without feeling choppy, rather like a brilliantly, textured mosaic.

The animation is also top of the line. We’ve become so accustomed to expertly rendered technique, that it’s no surprise this one is well-crafted. But even here, the subtly and nuance is richer than we might first expect. Gru, the villain, makes his first appearance in a giant, space-ship like motor car spewing excessive amounts of foul smoke. He has an imposing, barrel-chested body and a sharp, hooked nose. Yet, watch him when he holds his hands behind his back, and notice how he curls his delicate fingers as he weighs his options.

One element took me out of the story, because it did not rise above charicature, as every other ingredient did. Gru’s mother, despite the to-die-for-glasses and the world-class voice (thank you Julie Andrews) , belittled Gru as a child (revealed in flashbacks) and this is the story equivalent of understanding how love-starved he must be, how this repressed need for affection has driven him to a life of evil ways.

Okay: That mom’s completely heartless – maybe I buy. That the flashbacks are an effective way to gain sympathy for our main character – maybe, but do we need it? He has a dog and then the little girls, plenty of opportunity to allow his tender side to unfold. Then, late in the story, mom somehow does a complete about face and becomes doting. Huh? Missed that beat. Mom needed more dimension. (Even the creepy mistress of the orphanage had her vulnerable moment. It was spot on. And it didn’t turn her nice.)

But that’s a quibble in an otherwise flawless picture. Kudos to the directors, Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud. (Interesting to note that neither of the men have a major directing credit on imdb.) Despicable Me. See it. I know I’ll go back for multiple viewings of this one.

Story Notes for The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

What’s great –

• Nicolas Cage. Bolder and more passionate than we’ve seen him in decades. He’s channeling the heart energy that fueled him in Moonstruck and Raising Arizona. Cage plays a sorcerer who’s over 1000 years old and has literally seen it all. Yet, this wild-haired character has his sweet, vulnerable side.
• The apprentice, played by Jay Baruchel, a nerdy physics student who experiments with a Tesla coil. When he shares his secret lab with a pretty coed, he choreographs the electric charges to the music she loves to play on her radio show. Sounds corny, but it’s a loving, sexy scene, making this the best date movie of the year.
• The marriage of science and magic and the terrific results it produces. The Tesla coil scene dramatizes this brilliantly, focusing on the magic of love. In many variations, this potent science+magic theme runs throughout the story.
• The sorcerer’s car.
• The catcher’s chest protector and face guard that Dave uses while he learns to catch and throw plasma bolts.
• —SPOILER ALERT—Giving the love interest, Teresa Palmer, the guts to climb the tower and kick the satellite dish enough to disrupt the final curse. (Too bad we didn’t spend enough time with her to really care about her struggle, the romantic one—how she felt when nerdy Dave had some “issues” related to runaway mops and cancelled their date—as well as the intellectual one—how she so easily embraced Dave’s unusual apprenticeship. It took him over a decade; she was okay with it in about 22 seconds.) There are other things wrong with the satellite kicking scene, but I’m in the wrong category, and there’s really a lot of great stuff in this picture, like:
• The great line delivered by Cage: “Love is a distraction.”

What’s recycled and put to good use here—

• Alfred Molino, who plays Cage’s foe, a sorcerer who was formerly Cages friend and ally, but who feels betrayed and has gone to the dark side. In a way he’s resurrecting his role from Spiderman II, but that’s a writing and casting gaff, and Molino is so good in the part nobody will care.
• The apprentice reprising Toby McGuire’s reluctant superhero. Granted, the reluctant hero=good drama. (But another nod to Spiderman? At least no one in the apprentice’s family had to die to motivate the hero to act.)

What’s old and worn out –

• The Frankenstein of fantasy/villainous elements: Russian nesting dolls, magical rings, urban car chases, Chinatown (though the dragon scene was worth it). It’s not that any one of these elements is wrong or bad, but the string of stitched together gimmicks are less than elegant.
• NYC as the only, edgy contemporary setting. Yes, the abandoned subway station makes a neat lab, but I there’s a neat underground city in Seattle, too. Probably lots of places.
• The villain Morgan le Fay as evil sorceress. It’s the male-written, recent media that’s made her so. Ancient and even contemporary authors describe Morgan as a healer, an adviser, and even the architect of King Arthur’s successful round table. Trapping Morgan in a Russian doll was a clever invention; Couldn’t the writers have spent their energies on a more interesting villain?
• Not one, but two frenetic prologues, neither of which was necessary. In fact, they make the story seem contrived and predictable. Allow the backstory to be revealed.
• And in the same vein, not one powerful villain who can shapeshift, but rafts of them. (All called “Morganians,” as if the le Fay connection carries more weight. – SPOILER ALERT—It doesn’t, because we don’t actually meet your most evil-of-evils Morgan until the very end. I’m not counting the prologue.)
• The music for the namesake scene. The one based on "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" sequence from Fantasia. Sure it's a wonderful homage, but either update the orchestration to match the contemporary soundtrack, or design the rest of the music in the 2010 soundtrack to match the original score of the 1940 Disney animated picture. Other aspects of the soundtrack worked well, some beautifully. (See the comments about the Tesla coil music scene above.) What happened here? Though the “live action” mops were delightful to watch, I wondered if the oboes and flutes of the Dukas song got lost in the subway tile and stone.

Final note: Despite the over-worn elements (that bother me more on reflection than when I was in the theater), Cage and director Turtletaub and their entire creative team have made some of their own magic here.

• The final scene—I can’t give it away—but trust me: It’s visually stunning, brimming with action, yet tender. Best of all, it brings out the absolute best in our apprentice. We love to love our hero.

Congratulations, boys. On a scale of 10, this summer movie sizzles at an 8.