LILO & STITCH
(Dean Deblois, Chris Sanders,
2002) R
Reviewed: June 27, 2002
It's a good omen when
a film begins with a new spin on a movie studio's
traditional logo. David Mamet's Heist made the Warner Bros logo black &
white, telling us to be prepared for the classical noir flicks the WB use to churn
out in the 40s. Doug Liman's Go! butchered the Columbia Pictures logo,
fragmenting it with quick cuts of light streaks and 20somethings at a rave. And
now here is Lilo & Stitch, putting a nice little touch on the Disney
castle logo we've all grown so accustomed to. The logo changing mindset is simple.
It's filmmakers telling their audience, hey, be prepared for something a little
different. This is not the same big studio, cookie-cutter crap you're accustomed
to. This is something... special.
And they're right. Lilo & Stitch is a great piece of work, miles
above Ice Age, and even better than last year's animated smash-hit Shrek.
Longtime readers know how upset I was at Disney's marketing campaign for Lilo
& Stitch, how Disney's whoring of all their classic animated characters
as a way of pimping Lilo & Stitch said to me they had reached a new desperation
low because many of their recent animated films had performed so poorly (both
commercially and critically). Alas, my worrying was interest paid in advance on
a debt that never came due, because Disney truly does have something wonderful
on their hands this time out of the gate. They deserve heavy box office recognition
for what they've produced.
Well, maybe "they" is putting it too generously. By all indications
writers/directors Dean Deblois and Chris Sanders deserve the lion's share of the
credit for Lilo & Stitch's quality (well them, plus their hoards
of immensely talented animators and actors and such), not Disney as a corporate
entity. I've read that Deblois and Sanders managed to work their way up through
Disney's animation reigns, and then finagled the helm of this feature, all the
while gaining the power and control to go off in relative seclusion to Florida
and craft the film there. Meaning Disney interference was kept to a minimum and
a massive amount of trust was placed in the filmmakers. Credit must of course
also be given to Disney for maintaining this trust, and for allowing the relatively
unknown Deblois and Sanders to make a traditionally animated (Lilo & Stitch
looks like a gorgeous, watercolor mosaic) film in these days of heated CGI pressure.
Lilo & Stitch proves that the mode of animation is not important-- all that
matters is the characters and the story. Lilo's plot isn't groundbreaking (alien
comes to Earth and meets lonely child) and the ending may be preordained, but
the characters are so well drawn, the emotion is so true and not manipulative,
and the story nuances and gags are fresh enough (my favorite gag involves the
priceless 1980s toy, the view-master) to all meld together into an original piece
of work.
Allow me an example to prove how adult and unsentimental this feature length cartoon
is. There is a scene in which Stitch is rampaging Lilo's bedroom. He gets to her
bed, removes her pillow and beneath the pillow is a picture. We don't see the
picture in close-up, only from a distance. Stitch grabs the photo, then Lilo grabs
it back from him, instructing him to never ever touch that again. You can tell
it's the only possession of hers she actually cares about. She gingerly places
the photo back on her bed. Still, we can't make out the image's content, only
glimpsing it from afar.
I was astounded. The amount of trust placed in the audience -- an audience composed
primarily of little kids, mind you -- to figure out that that photo is a picture
of Lilo's dead parents is incredible. Iit probably went over most kids' heads,
maybe even some parents as well. Granted, much later on we do finally find out
more about the photo, but my point withstands. It was at that moment I knew Lilo
& Stitch would continue to work as well for adults, as children. The filmmakers
weren't going for the easy sentiment and indeed, throughout the rest of the pic
they never did.
Lilo & Stitch particularly excels in its character development. The pre-credits
prologue is devoted entirely to establishing Stitch, and I was shocked to discover
he bears a much stronger resemblance to Tim Burton's Mars Attacks' aliens
than E.T. Stitch was artificially created as a destruction machine. He
is violent, mischievous, remorseless and near invincible, i.e. not even likable
in a Dennis-the-Menace-he-may-cause-trouble-but-at-least-he-has-a-good-heart kinda
way. Until the very end, Stitch has no heart at all. You only dig him in that
deliciously evil way you dig Hannibal Lecter. Sanders and Deblois have guts. Not
putting a standard villain in an animated film is a rarity and having the meanest
character in the film supposed to be one of the most sympathetic, having the meanest
character in the film be a little girl's savior, is a virtually unheard of masterstroke.
The story of Lilo, her dead parents and her young sister who's caring for her
(under the constant threat of social workers taking Lilo away because they think
sister's an unfit parent) is ripe for cheese, but miraculously the storyline never
descends into hokum. Lilo and her relationship with her sister are treated honestly
-- I knew I'd fallen for Lilo hook line and sinker when she's lying on her floor,
sad and lonely, singing along to an Elvis album (speaking of which, as you probably
know, Lilo & Stitch is not a musical -- in fact, most of the soundtrack
is populated with Elvis and other assorted goodies).
The supporting gallery rules. Standouts are Ving Rhames as the ultra-slick Cobra
Bubbles and David Ogden Stiers as Jumba, the mad scientist who created Stitch
and now must hunt him across Hawaii (excellent choice setting the pic in a tropical
paradise -- sense of locale is joyously realized, beautiful and integral to the
plot).
Lilo & Stitch confirms Disney's back on top. Their next traditionally
animated film, Treasure Island (due in November), looks like a winner as
well. I saw the trailer before Lilo & Stitch and it drew me right
into what seems to be a sumptuous, dazzling, action-adventure fantasy. With my
faith officially restored in the Mouse House, I can't wait.
Return home.