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.
