An apocryphal moment occurred when
I started up the Disney DVD release, Treasure Planet (28152,
$30). I was watching the previews at the DVD’s opening
because they include the first trailer I’ve seen for Disney’s forthcoming
November theatrical cartoon, the traditionally animated Brother
Bear. A young friend,
who is in the film marketer’s dream target group, male and thirteen,
caught one glimpse of the Brother Bear trailer and immediately
turned up his nose at what admittedly appears to be a children’s oriented
feature with talking animals cavorting in the forest.
This same friend, however, having watched the computer-animated
Ice Age and Monsters, Inc. innumerable times, couldn’t
wait to see Disney’s computer animated summer blockbuster, Finding
Nemo, even though it, too, is about talking animals.
“I gotta see the turtles.”
There’s a point to all of this.
Treasure Planet, though utilizing computer effects for
backgrounds and other details, is a traditionally animated feature
and it flopped at the boxoffice last November, having its dignity
rescued only by a well-deserved Oscar nomination for Best Animated
Film after its run had ended. My
friend ended up sitting and watching the film with me, and enjoying
it, but he and his ilk had no desire to seek it out in theaters, for
even though it has a futuristic setting, its artistry is strictly
Old World.
A smoothly realized adaptation of Treasure
Island, the film’s greatest accomplishment is its realization
of the moral complexity in the (Long) John Silver character. Introduced and drawn like a totally evil villain, he is nevertheless
sympathetic, and while younger children will be confused by this at
first, they will grow as they apprehend the character’s own emotional
metamorphosis, a shift cleverly anticipated, incidentally, by a shape-changing
pet that flits about him for comic relief.
Imagining space ships in the shape of old sailing vessels—a
concept that has been a staple of Japanese animation for quite some
time—the story can breezily invent exotic settings and humorous alien
characters with a confidence that its primary narrative can support
whatever inventive pleasures the creators could unfurl.
Although the narrative comes together
efficiently, the artwork is somewhat more awkwardly compiled. Disney is trying to have it both ways, merging
traditional and computer animation to the point where Silver’s robotic
arm and leg are drawn by the computer, while his human half is not. It’s a cluttered style that is also attempting,
though not always succeeding, to evoke the illustrations of Andrew
Wyeth and others from old books of adventure. These concepts work well enough on one level, telling the story
and stimulating the viewer’s imagination, but on a deeper level they
don’t gel—the textures rendered by the one method and the textures
rendered by the other are too inconsistent to belong in the same universe—and
so there is an emotional distancing that can prevent viewers from
getting truly lost in film’s fantasy.
The picture is presented in letterboxed
format only, slightly windowboxed with an aspect ratio of about 1.66:1
and an accommodation for enhanced 16:9 playback. The image transfer is immaculate. The 5.1-channel Dolby Digital sound has many
pleasing separation and rear channel effects, and a strong dimensionality. The 95-minute program has alternate French
and Spanish tracks in standard stereo, and optional English subtitles.
There are redundancies in the DVD’s
supplementary materials, but the offerings nevertheless provide a
rewarding exploration of how the film was created.
The best segment is probably the still frame collection of
original conceptual artwork. One
wishes it could be in a picture book.
There is a commentary track by the film’s producers and directors,
and as it plays, the film automatically digresses to brief featurettes
at appropriate moments, sharing a couple deleted scenes and segments
on the film’s conceptual look (‘70% old fashioned, 30% sci-fi’ was
their guideline), the merging of the two animation processes, and
other matters. These little
segments, however, are also presented separately in the special features
menu and some, like the 6 minutes of deleted scenes, can be accessed
by two separate menu selections.
The supplement also includes decent collections of other developmental
artwork and character drawings, as well as a couple trailers, a really
good music video with John Rzeznik, and a nice ‘virtual’ tour
of the primary sailing ship, presented both with narration and as
a game. There is also a 15-minute production documentary
that does a fairly good job going over the film’s background, again
using clips from the other, shorter pieces, as well as supplying new
material. A pretty good 12-minute kids’ documentary about
pirates is included, as well.
The digressions on the commentary playback,
which include the music video, a trailer for Disney’s 1950 Treasure
Island and a few other odds and ends along with specific looks
at how different animation processes (such as ‘lighting’) were achieved,
run about 20 to 30 minutes altogether.
The commentary itself is okay.
They talk about generating the story and the changes they made
to improve it as they ran into problem areas.
They talk a lot about merging the two forms of animation and
how various effects were achieved, and they talk a little bit about
the voice talent, the characters and their reasoning behind various
choices. There are a few places
where another level of detail would have been satisfying (How did
they determine the different amounts of billowing for the sails?),
but on the whole it is an informative talk that gives you a clear
idea of how the film came into being.
They conclude with an enthusiastic admonition that you should
read the original Robert Louis Stevenson book, which is where
they got their inspiration to create the film in the first place.
Giant
Windtalkers
Die Another Day
War & Peace
Eraserhead
Hearts & Minds