Saturday, June 18, 2022

Lightyear movie review.

In 1995, Pixar burst onto the scene with Toy Story, their first foray into feature length filmmaking, and the first computer animated film in history. It was a groundbreaking film at the time, that even now has aged remarkably well, and is one of those rare films that is actually improved by the existence of its sequels. When even your fourth entry with a talking spork is a great movie, that's the sign of a truly remarkable franchise.

Part of that is owed to the creation of Buzz Lightyear, the cool space ranger voiced by Tim Allen, whose character instantly won over audiences. Almost 30 years later, Pixar has decided to go back to his origins, or at least his inspiration's origins. In-universe, Buzz Lightyear the action figure was modeled after Buzz Lightyear the action hero, the main character of Andy's favorite movie, Lightyear. Pixar's latest film allows us to finally experience that phenomenal blockbuster. I'm happy that Andy loved it so much, but personally, while I quite enjoyed Lightyear, it's hard for me to say it ever touches infinity, let alone goes beyond it.

When the crew of Star Command divert their ongoing mission to explore an unknown planet, they become marooned after an escape attempt leaves their starship damaged. Leading the mission to test fuel samples that could bring them home, space ranger Buzz Lightyear (Chris Evans) repeatedly tries and fails to successfully find a sample stable enough to withstand hyperspace. Although eventually a success, Buzz finds himself unintentionally dropping into a warzone, between the freedom fighters of Star Command, and the robot warriors of the Evil Emperor Zurg (James Brolin). Now with the aid of a rookie warrior squad, led by trainee Izzy Hawthorne (Keke Palmer), and robot companion Sox (Peter Sohn), Buzz will once again lead the charge to save Star Command by crushing Zurg's forces.

2022 is the fourth time Pixar has released two films in one year, with Turning Red having already made a big splash in March. So following up such a terrific film as that, especially how effortlessly it tackled its mature subject matter, would understandably make anyone nervous. Lightyear marks the solo feature length debut of Angus MacLane, who's worked at Pixar for over 20 years as a supervising animator. Just from his touch, you certainly get an idea of what Lightyear strives to achieve; epic, big-budget, stimulating spectacle. The film even makes its intentions known, with opening text explaining Andy's love for the film, immediately indicating to us "This is Buzz Lightyear, but not as we know him."

For much of the opening 30 minutes, Lightyear had me latched onto its every word. The film plays as an unabashed love letter to the Sci-Fi epics of old, with clear influence drawn from the likes of Star Wars, 2001, Dune, Flash Gordon, and many others. These even include more recent space epics like Interstellar and Gravity, and those influences are particularly key, given how much Lightyear leans into those quantum space mechanics. Specifically, each time Buzz fails, time feels like mere minutes to him, but could be much longer back on the surface. You especially get a good idea of this within the film's first act, in which Buzz is passing witness to the huge milestones of his friends and colleagues, specifically fellow ranger Alisha Hawthorne (Uzo Aduba), and seeing these events play out from this perspective is like a gut punch. It's a Pixar movie, it had to happen at some point.

When the film is operating at this speed, that is when it's at its most inspired. Not only because the meditative, borderline melancholy tone offers up so much possibilities, but because at the same time, those visual ideas are projected in breathtaking fashion. You can tell Lightyear comes from the loving hand of an animator, because the visuals are so meticulous in their creation, from the sheen and glare on surfaces and characters, to the assortment of color projected onto objects and settings. Especially given its space sequences, with more than several allusions tossed to Kubrick, and the terrifying void of stars that stretch on endlessly. As spectacle alone, Lightyear excels, and with these weighty ideas on its plate, that opening thirty minute stretch could easily rank among the boldest, most inventive, most breathtaking filmmaking in Pixar's history... so it's a shame that the momentum doesn't hold up.

The following two acts of Lightyear aren't *bad* by any mean, but they are by far the less creative and ambitious sections of the film. Following those weighty meditations, it settles into a much more conventional gear, becoming a straight action film for the remaining runtime, and letting all of those ideas and tension unwind and de-escalate. This is where the Flash Gordon influence really settles in, because it veers back into pulpy serial adventures as we're tossed into an ongoing war, with the robotic threats bearing murky intentions.

That's no accident itself, given the movie's in-universe 1995 release date, but the problem is that in playing as a pastiche of generic 90's blockbusters, it itself has become one of them. That's not played for satire either, because not only is it too earnest in execution, but too modernized at the same time. Given how it seems intent on *subverting* the customs of its own Sci-Fi subgenre, it feels like two divergent tones mashed together, as well as cowering away from its own potential. I know this is still a movie ostensibly aimed at children, and it's perfectly fine in that regard, but it is a disappointment nonetheless, because I feel like this movie had the promise of being something grander.

At the very least, Pixar continues to make fine use of its characters and voice actors. Given how perfectly Tim Allen's voice aligns with Buzz, recasting the role would certainly be an intimidating process. That said, Chris Evans acquits himself to the role superbly, as while it may not be a stretch from Captain America, Evans still carries himself with an assured and charismatic command, certainly embodying the heroism of his character, as well as relaying the silent turmoil of his failures. Elsewhere, Keke Palmer is also terrific in a sidekick role, anchoring the film with a deeply felt emotional depth and keen sense of wit, and between Lightyear and Jordan Peele's Nope looks set to have a great year.

Scene stealer notice though? That honor belongs to Sox, Buzz's personal robotic cat companion voiced by Pixar mainstay Peter Sohn. This character is a delight, proving himself an essential asset to the narrative flow, but also in his gentle, borderline deadpan nature, with much of the film's best comedy as a result of him. It certainly helps that he's adorable to boot. My heart melts every time he shows up, and honestly, he may just be the greatest cinematic cat... ever? Certainly one of the finest supporting characters Pixar has ever given us.

Elsewhere, characters don't stack up quite as well, because while the talent is there, the dimension isn't. While Uzo Aduba's Alisha is an affecting personality whose spirit lingers throughout the movie, Moe Morrison and Darby Steel - voiced by Taika Waititi and Dale Soules - are much more standard stock sidekicks. They mainly exist as comic relief, and while they fulfill their duties there, the depth just isn't felt, and in fact, they occasionally come across as more annoying than funny.

And this continues with Zurg voiced by James Brolin, fulfilling his role as the villain, and easily the weakest part of the film. Given that Zurg was already a parody of Darth Vader, there's only so much depth you can give to an intentionally generic antagonist. And to the film's credit, it does try to give him agency within the narrative, especially in how he challenges Buzz on a mental level, but Zurg is undone by the fact that he doesn't feel threatening. Some of this could be chalked up to his redesign, which isn't exactly inspired, especially given how the mass of purple gives him little visual contrast, and feels simplified and stripped back to the degree that it robs him of personality.

Other pleasures in the movie? The sound design is aces as usual, and Michael Giacchino's score is a beautiful tribute to classic Jerry Goldsmith, but otherwise, that's about it.

Lightyear is a fine movie, and if anything, it's probably better than it had any right to be. It has ambitious ideas, and has such an infectious affection for classic Sci-Fi adventure, which at least put it above your usual animated feature, and even your average blockbuster. However, after a certain point, it never reaches that peak of inspiration again. In trying to embody the spirit of those epic contemporary blockbusters, it also inherits some of their lesser qualities, leading to an odd mixture of genuinely inventive new takes, while feeling beholden to the customs of what the audience is expecting to see. It is still an enjoyable adventure, and has its heart in the right place, even if it doesn't stand with the best films Pixar has made. It doesn't fly, but at least it falls with style...


***1/2 / *****

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