One-Sentence Review: Kubo and the Two Strings
Not afraid to be real with emotions while diving deep into fantasy, Kubo and the Two Strings is a lushly-rendered and poignant tale that deserves to be considered among the best US-made animated films.
Rating: Full-Price Ticket (9/10)
Rating System: Splurge on IMAX (10), Full-Price Ticket (9-8), Matinee Ticket (7-6), Wait for Digital (5-4), Late-Night Cable Fodder (3-2), I’ve Made Better Films With My Ass Camera (1)
Since I’ve always had an interest in astronomy, this particular song always had a special orbit around my heart. It’s weird and surreal; however, unlike the history songs, “Interplanet Janet” teaches without making you think our Solar System is open, caring, and accepting of all because those are the principles our great corner of the universe was built on.
If you have ever listened to the Holst’s 1918 composition The Planets, you know where the likes of John Williams, Jerry Goldsmith and James Horner got their inspiration for their sci-fi film scores. (Ironically the music was inspired by astrology not astronomy.) The entire suite is quite beautiful. Watching the Star Wars, Star Trek or Alien series will make you entirely comfortable with The Planets should you ever feel the need to listen. In fact, you will probably wonder if the Holst estate can sue for some of the snippets of music.
The first movement, “Mars, the Bringer of War,” is the one most will have heard and is an amazingly catchy piece that truly invokes armies marching off to battle. The problem is every time I hear it now I bust up laughing thanks to “The Venture Bros.” The second show of the second season finds The Monarch’s most endearing henchmen unemployed due to the destruction of the floating cocoon fortress. Suddenly they get the call they have been dreaming of. It’s the Monarch. He’s escaped prison and orders them to put his mighty empire back together. As Henchmen 21 & 24 hang up, this happens:
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZX7Xy3EY6tk
My whirlwind trip to Burbank culminated in an intimate overheard conversation between John Lassiter and Hayao Miyazaki. It was an amazing experience listening to two talented animator speak of their past in the industry and they struggles to make animation a legitimate film form (it always has been, but perception has been different.)
Dave & I landed minutes apart from each other on Tuesday morning and then started to bus around Hollywood for a little while. I’d never seen the Hollywood Walk of Fame, so with a sense of irony, I started to walk on the stars. Near Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, we saw a crowd and flowers on the ground. Of course, we should have know it was this.
Not to be outdone by all those clamoring to get a piece there was a man off to the side playing MJ’s music from a tiny boombox. I don’t remember a tip jar from my quick glance, but wouldn’t not have been surprised to see one.
A stop at Canter’s on Fairfax was fun. Cameron recommended this established diner and it didn’t disappoint. The picture to the left is their ceiling which was a tree canopy pattern that worked on two levels: you felt like you were under a forest of autumn grease or you had turned into a fly on one of the burgers and were seeing a single tile with your multi-facetted eyes. And their famous pickles turned out to be a cacophony of dill and garlic.
Of course, the entire reason we went was pretty damn amazing. The new film I can see anytime when it comes out next month, but seeing two of the best animators alive talk to each other was a rare event. They started with the Japanese previews all of his Miyazaki’s films and would play great clips between the interview. Since I’ve only seen his last three on the big screen (Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle), it was a treat to see clips of his other outstanding pieces blown up to their proper size. At their intended size, small details are more noticeable. So much so that I’m going to watch them all again starting with My Neighbor Totoro in order to appreciate the subtleties. I would recommend you do the same.
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