Leo

Leo follows the fifth-grade pet lizard as he observes this year’s group of kids. Though it starts at surface-level, at some point it blasts through itself with such pure heart, again and again, that it becomes a real tear-jerker. Both sweet and meaningful.

Unexpected! Because everyone expects an ordinary year this year. Same teacher; bully; clown. Then a substitute arrives and forces each student to take home gross old Leo for the weekend. Until this point the movie is just an onslaught of gags (which sometimes are hilarious and sharp, like the piranha-esque kindergarteners causing mayhem, and which are other times eye-rollingly cheap); but soon, it’ll transform.

Another year; another batch.

As Leo learns at the students’ homes, these kids have problems. Instead of helicopter parents, a drone. Instead of hugs, a deceased loved-one. And so on. So Leo, who has seen it all before, decides in his old age to do something meaningful with his up-until-now-oh-so-meaningless life. And to do it he breaks the biggest rule there is.

What follows is a series of funny and deeply tender interactions, about as realistic as you could expect it to be when a benevolent lizard speaks human. With some coaxing the kids sing about their problems, and Leo, all wobbly and phlegmy, sings back.

Teaching. An art and a science.

Sure, the pacing can be jerky and uneven. And sure, we could do with quite a few less jokes. But the way the moviemakers capture real concerns—and real solutions to them—is as patient and beautiful as kind old Leo is.

Space Jam: A New Legacy

To succeed, don’t do what you want; do what they tell you.

This is what LeBron James—perhaps the greatest basketball player of all time—tells his computer-code-wiz son, Dom. By working hard and pushing computer games aside, he says, one can provide for themself and their whole family.

LeBron may be right. And this is a big problem.

You see, Al G. Rhythm is jealous of it all. The fame, the adoration. As an algorithm for Warner Brothers Studios, his work creating movies has gone unloved and unrewarded. But not anymore.

Al has a plan to finally win over the hearts of humans: He will kidnap LeBron and Dom and challenge them to a game of high-stakes basketball. Oh, and whereas Al’s teammates will be NBA and WNBA superstars, LeBron must pick his crew from the lowliest of the low, some stale old Warner Brothers intellectual property called the Looney Toons.

If you have questions at this point, I have answers. Yes, this movie is ridiculous. Yes, about half of it is as stiff and try-hard as you’re afraid it’s going to be.

In fact, it feels like Warner Brothers rushed through the brainstorming phase and made this movie purely to advertise its previous hits: It constantly ties characters, quotes, and even clips from its more successful movies into this story. Sometimes it works, but most times it doesn’t. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing to watch a studio stoop this low, just as it’s embarrassing to think that in what was clearly planned as a blockbuster advertisement for itself, it decided to have its own computer—the thing that we’re supposed to believe creates its movie ideas—be evil. (Let’s not even think about the computer knowing that the Looney Toons have overcome impossible odds to win a basketball game before, and that it has decided to attain human validation by beating down a human admired by millions of people.)

So, this movie may be the most expensive, least effective advertisement of all time. But it’s not all bad. LeBron’s conflict with his son Dom is believable, and Dom’s acting is genuinely good. LeBron’s slighty-more-stiff delivery even punches up a few one liners. And the second half of the movie almost redeems the first: It reinvigorates the clever ridiculousness of the Looney Toons of old, toying with our natural instincts and creating laughs for the whole family. 

But that’s not enough. Although light and family-friendly, Space Jam: A New Legacy is a forgettable movie. Though “don’t overthink it” can sometimes be good advice about a movie, this is more a “don’t think it at all” one, which, if you ask me, is not a worthy way to spend your valuable time.

America: The Motion Picture

Lest you forget that the Declaration of Independence was written over a game of beer pong, or that Washington and Lincoln were totes besties . . . behold, America: The Motion Picture.

It throws whatever you know about American history into a blender, and pours out a raunchy, pun-filled adventure. Namely, some of America’s biggest names form a supergroup to, well, form the nation.

It’s mostly outrageous, and often hilarious. Take Sam Adams. He’s just a beer-chugging college bro, with blind dedication that’s somehow endearing—and racist giggles that’re telling. The writing respects people’s contributions while acknowledging their (grievous) faults. But what’s it all for?

Washington is our main character, and his inner journey leads him to realize that what makes America great is its openness. But in a whiplash moment even for such a wacky story, the movie ends with Americans fighting because of their differences, and Washington losing hope.

This is disappointing. If the moviemakers wanted to make a ridiculous, fun movie, they could’ve done so. But they brought in philosophy, and only did half the work.

Free thinking is not just a luxury, it is a responsibility to approach other ideas with patience and charity—especially if you disagree. The moviemakers seem smart enough to understand this, so the next time they make a movie about their country burning down, they’d do better than to simply draw a caricature from across the street, point, and laugh.

Wish Dragon

You have three wishes! Go!

Of course Din, our dear, kind-hearted Din, can’t go. What he wants most in this world can’t be granted. 

It has to do with Li Na. She’s gone from the neighborhood and on to richer things. But she still remembers Din and their friendship, right? If there ever was a time for him to find out, it’s now, with the help of a wish-granting dragon from a teapot.

Don’t let the extremely-on-the-nose opening sequence scare you off. What we have here is a wholesome story for the whole family to enjoy, one that highlights the deep joys of human connection. You’ll smile and chuckle plenty—and breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it’s not another story where a dull boy pines for an impossibly perfect girl.

Smooth, soft animation rounds out the feel-good feeling. Though we’ve seen this idea done before, good execution is good execution.

Wolfwalkers

r e v i e w

Do you remember your favorite bedtime story? The bedsheet fuzz which lulled you to sleep, as you and your loved ones explored worlds? This is one of the treats of childhood, difficult to replicate as we age.

But we try. And it’s more than just nostalgia-seeking, or a bribe to sleep. We tell bedtime stories to teach our most vulnerable, receptive minds the knowledge of generations. We want them to know what we know, and more, without them having to endure the hardship. It is a rational and laudable goal.

The story from Wolfwalkers seems made for this ritual. But is it worthy of it?

Robyn would say yes. She’s an adventurous young girl, ready to explore the world. While father sets wolf-traps in the forest, she shoots her crossbow around the house. Sure, chores are important, but higher callings even moreso. Like catching wolves.

That’s our first problem. Robyn’s higher callings have been chosen for her: by her father (to keep her safe) and by the Lord Protector (to keep her civilized). The three are English invaders, and must be careful in this wild, pagan Ireland.

And that’s our next problem. Whether it be the Irish hunting wolves or the English hunting the Irish, nobody seems to get along. So when Robyn sneaks out of the house, difficulties surround.

What she doesn’t expect is to befriend a wolfwalker named Mebh. But this part-human, part-wolf teaches Robyn more about family and harmony than any civilization has.

The moral of the story—that all living things are connected and deserving—is certainly bedtime story material. The idea that we must care for the planet while caring for ourselves is demonstrated tenderly. But the movie loses force when it picks its bad guy.

Here, that bad guy is a different religion. The Lord Protector quells wolf and human rebellion alike, and sees the Irish’s close connection with nature as something dangerous. To be tamed. This religiously-motivated awfulness is subtle, and will likely be lost on children who are paying attention to the story of two brave girls encountering danger and caring for family. And the movie is a quality one; vividly animated, touching, and family-friendly. But bedtime story material it is not.

Bedtime is for bedrock values, and this movie isn’t consistent about its own. It disparages colonialism and indenturing groups of people with the intention of making their lives better—however misguided such behavior is—while it takes no issue with its heroes using nature and other animals—even taking over their bodies and consciousness—to suit human purposes. Both “religions” are using the world around them for their own purposes and doing what they think is best for the less fortunate. The movie overlooks this fact in its search for something worthwhile to share.

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s t a n d o u t s — **spolier alert**

(1) It’s All About Perspective

In one sense, this story pits civilization and its strictures against the wild and its freedom. Even the Irish, who serve the English, fear unbridled nature and will take English help to tame it. The moviemakers’ animation styles weave in with this theme.

For example, scenes of the town are largely in two dimensions. Perspective is flattened, and highlights the symmetric, grey monotony of civilized life. There is no flourish here, no growth. Just the various cages we live in called home, town, city.

Compare that to scenes of the forest, where wolves and other creatures live together in balance. For these scenes, the animators show a lush, deep, three-dimensional world. Colors and lines are never the same. Here we see life flourishing; wild beauty unchecked.

Each kind of animation is striking, and a thing to behold. But maintaining their differences throughout adds depth to the movie.

The Night is Short, Walk On Girl

Remember that best night ever? When somehow, everyone out was tapped into the same line of electricity in the air?

This movie is that night, thanks to The Girl with the Black Hair. She knows life is short, so she’s going to take a hit of that new drink; to chat up that stranger. Though her positivity is irresistible, so is her appetite.

Her quest for more lights up the entire city. Each place she visits, each character she meets, brings its own charming quirks.

The movie is a drunken delight. A poem to serendipity, with exaggerated animation that’ll change the way you take in the world, if just for one night.

Soul

If you died tomorrow, would you be OK with it?

Without any words, that’s what Soul asks us. The short story is that Joe needs to pick between following his jazz-piano-passion and holding down a steady job. The long story is that he has other things to figure out, and it takes a journey through space and time for him to realize it.

Sound heavy? That’s because it is. But this remains a movie for the whole family, filled with approachable characters and silly scenarios. The music is mesmerizing, and the animation everchanging. You’ll be hooked in the first two minutes.

It’s something special when a movie can work on multiple levels; when your child can have fun learning a life lesson—and you can have fun re-learning it. So now that you know there’s something special in your life, what are you waiting for?

Klaus

Nobody gets toys on Christmas.

That’s because Smeerensburg is about tradition, and tradition says to hate thy neighbor.

Jesper is thrown into this lovely setting as the town’s new mail carrier. But he’s no saint either: He sees Klaus, a nice old man, as his ticket out. At least, that’s how their relationship starts . . .

At the end of the day, this movie tries to do too much. It’s really about Jesper growing up, but jams in Santa’s origin story, the meaning of secular Christmas, the corrupting power of adults, and more. This makes things confusing. Who should we root for? What’s the moral of the story?

You can watch it with family, but it’s more for adults (who overthink things) than children. All that said, its tie-ins to Christmas traditions are clever, and the animation can be gorgeous. Lights and lines create vivid portraits that just so happen to move.

Ne Zha

Heavenly powers have a plan for Ne Zha. So do his parents. Neither seems to matter to the kid, who’s as stubborn as they come.

Can you blame him? It’s hard to learn right from wrong when everyone under the sun thinks your fate is sealed. But what makes life difficult for Ne Zha is what makes this movie worthwhile.

Complex but cute animation creates a fantasy world worth exploring. Quirky characters keep things light, balancing out a heavy premise.

MFKZ

MFKZ be wilin!

Sooner or later, Dark Meat City will eat up Angelino. The scrawny punk commands no respect, at work or on the streets. He has more roaches in his apartment than friends in the world.

It’s confusing to everyone, then, when he begins to be chased as if he’s the world’s most wanted. Maybe there’s something to him after all.

This movie is a hood fairy tale of grand proportions. A modern David unlocks his true potential, while uncovering an evil so pervasive Goliath would drown in it. The illustration and writing are meticulous, and create a world where fantasy and cold, hard ghetto mix. Though there are some head-scratching moments, all in all it’s a different and fun movie.

Isle of Dogs

To keep the city safe, the Mayor has banished all dogs. Some citizens are skeptical of the Mayor’s motivations. Young Atari simply cares about losing his loyal hound, Spots. With some help, Atari races against time to find boy’s best friend.

Though the characters are downbeat, this is a heartfelt adventure. The puppet-work, framing, and detail are gorgeous.

In This Corner of the World

In This Corner of the World is a poignant story about a young woman living in and around Hiroshima during World War II. It is not a "war movie."

Suzu is a kind soul. She's prone to daydreaming. Or at least, she doesn't seem to focus on the things that everyone else does. Yet seeing the world through her perspective, it becomes clear that beauty can be found in the most unexpected of places. 

The Castle of Cagliostro

The Castle of Cagliostro is a smart animated adventure.

Master thief Lupin decides to pull the heist to end all heists. Nothing stands in the way but an evil mastermind, an impenetrable booby-trapped castle, and Interpol. Debonair Lupin may have finally met his match—with a damsel in distress found along the way.

Cheeky music and sound effects add to the fun.