Thursday, May 29, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: Life on Mars

Cowboy Bebop: The Movie intrigues with the familiar and the otherworldly

It's ironic how we marvel at the progress of animation in the age of Pixar and "deep canvas," but as tastemakers continue to try to break Japanese anime in America, its creative stasis becomes more and more evident.

Take the long-awaited motion picture adaptation of "Cowboy Bebop," an internationally beloved TV show (aired on the Cartoon Network on these shores) and graphic novel series. Even after the established legacy of anime (or manga) institutions like Akira and last year's Oscar success, Spirited Away, Japanese artists have yet to artistically evolve beyond the Robotech aesthetic, or their seen-one-seen-'em-all caricatures who appear to be using Michael Jackson's cosmetologists.

Fans knew Cowboy Bebop: The Movie wouldn't mess with the manga formula, and so director Shinichiro Watanabe has pandered to his devoted fan base--which reportedly lobbied the project's upper echelon to retain the vocal talents of the English-language TV series--by not changing a thing. Furthermore, the movie heavily relies on Western culture: stylish opening credits, antiheroes with Superman complexes, a multicultural "cast" (including a Yoda-like Native American guru) and frequent homages to Hollywood institutions (especially The Matrix). Even the sound supervisor is American--alt-music funkster Les Claypool, whose lively approach influences the mood throughout the film.

On its own, Cowboy Bebop: The Movie is nonetheless engrossing. It begins with a convenience store sequence as compelling as any of its filmed inspirations, and from there the story--a timely, violent Halloween tale about the threat of SARS-esque bioterrorism and the evils of the pharmaceutical industry, investigated by the ragtag Bebop bounty crew--imaginatively builds toward a climax. The plot is sometimes sinewy and susceptible to flatness mid-movie, and its emotional intelligence isn't as potent as Spirited Away. But the juxtaposition between the familiar and the otherworldly fascinates enough to validate the franchise's endurance.--Mike Prevatt

A fish called bonzer

Finding Nemo, the latest digitally animated feature from Disney's Monsters Inc. partner Pixar, is a visual, comic delight for children and their parents, though the movie's crux--a father's struggle to let his child take risks--may be lost on the little ones.

Director/co-writer Andrew Stanton's story concerns Marlin (voiced by Albert Brooks), a neurotic clownfish who's fiercely overprotective of his only son, Nemo (Alexander Gould). His dad's mollycoddling prompts an act of defiance by Nemo that results in his "fishnapping" by a scuba-diving Australian dentist. With the help of Dory (Ellen DeGeneres), an eternally optimistic, memory-impaired blue tang fish, the distraught Marlin sets out to find his son. Along the way, they encounter a host of Great Barrier Reef creatures that manifest the ocean's myriad beauties and dangers: a Fish School (John Ratzenberger), Bruce the shark (Barry Humphries), sea turtle Crush (director Stanton) and pelican Nigel (Geoffrey Rush).

Nemo, meanwhile, has adventures of his own with an eclectic group of aquatic characters in the dentist's Sydney aquarium: tough guy Gill (Willem Dafoe), sensitive Bloat (Brad Garrett), peppy Peach (Allison Janney), germphobic Gurgle (Austin Pendleton) and fastidious, tank-cleaning Jacques (Joe Ranft).

Pixar's animators, drawing from studies of ichthyology, botany, ocean-themed films and Disney classics, have masterfully designed and executed the movements, coloring and light of the deep and its denizens. The result is a magnificent, pictorial blend of the real and fantastic.

While young and old can appreciate the art, the theme and characterization of Marlin may stick longer with angst-ridden parents. Few actors do neuroses better than Brooks (excluding the In-Laws remake). Couple his skills with DeGeneres at her loopy, scene-stealing best and the humor is both clever and kid-friendly.

As a bonus, the feature is preceded by executive producer John Lasseter's charming 1989 short Knick Knack--so take the plunge and find Nemo.--Tammy McMahan