Film Review: Puss in Boots

Puss in Boots. Rated PG (mild violence). 90 minutes. Directed by Chris Miller. Screenplay by Tom Wheeler.

Created by Frenchman Charles Perrault and first appearing in a collection of eight fairytales published in 1697, Puss in Boots – a heroic, swashbuckling cat – has long been a source of childhood fascination. It might also be argued that the enigmatic Puss has rarely been so perfectly realised than in his scene-stealing supporting role in DreamWorks Animation’s Shrek films (he debuted in 2004’s Shrek 2). Superbly animated and brilliantly voiced by Antonio Banderas, Puss was the perfect foil for the grumpy, green ogre and his loyal donkey – and his instant rapport with his co-stars and audiences of adults and children alike, immediately sparked rumours of a spin-off. Has the seven-year wait been worth it? Uncategorically, yes.

Puss in Boots is never anything less than a dazzling triumph of character animation and storytelling for all ages as Puss (a perfect Mr Banderas again), his childhood friend Humpty Alexander Dumpty (The Hangover’s Zach Galifianakis), and Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek) join forces to steal the, now, middle-aged hillbillies Jack and Jill’s (Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris) magic beans. The beans, as we all know, will grow into a giant beanstalk that our heroes will climb to reach the goose that lays the golden eggs – untold wealth that can be distributed amongst the good people of their hometown, San Ricardo. But Mother Goose has other ideas.

Mr Wheeler’s screenplay is a delightfully engaging and equally involving mash-up of popular nursery rhyme and fairytale characters, and Mr Miller (Shrek the Third) capitalises on every single opportunity to bring the collision of instantly recognisable characters to life. Editor Eric Dapkewicz (Flushed Away, Monsters vs Aliens) expertly nails the pace, while the choreography by Laura Gorenstein Miller is so good that, at times, it is almost impossible to believe you’re actually watching animated characters.

Henry Jackman’s (Kick-Ass, X-Men: First Class) flawless original score perfectly captures every mood and location, while the skills of production designer Guillaume Aretos and art director Christian Schellewald ensure that the entire film is a stunning visual treat. Amongst the unforgettable luxury of riches are the eye-popping beanstalk sequences that easily qualify as the most spectacular animation we’ve seen this year.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.

Film review: How to Train Your Dragon

How to Train Your Dragon. 97 minutes. Rated PG. Directed by Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders. Written by William Davies, Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders. Based on the book by Cressida Cowell.

Dragons, it would appear, are currently all the rage as far as Hollywood is concerned. And while the list of films that feature dragons is becoming virtually limitless, something about these extraordinary creatures has obviously captured the imaginations of our current generation of filmmakers. The latest fascination may very well have been influenced by the worldwide, cult-like following enjoyed by the Japanese animated 'Dragon Ball' and 'Dragon Ball Z' phenomenon, where wish-granting dragons were summoned by the discovery of magical Dragon Balls. In 2006, there was Eragon, in which our young hero discovers a dragon's egg that later hatches to become 'Saphira', the dragon who will help him overthrow an evil regime and define his destiny. In Avatar, the astonishing sequences involving the taming of the banshees (James Cameron's imagining of the mythical beasts) leant the film, arguably, its most comprehensively exhilarating sequences as our heroes took to wing to, once again, define their destiny. And now, courtesy of animation powerhouse Dreamworks, we have another addition to the dragon-starring catalogue – and what a stunner it is.

'Hiccup' (beautifully voiced by She's Out of My League's Jay Baruchel) is a spindly, gawky young Viking whose clumsiness and lack of physical prowess and war-mongering skills are a source of constant humiliation to his father 'Stoick' (Gerard Butler). When the Viking clan are forced to defend their island home from a dragon attack, Hiccup inadvertently wounds a Night Fury (one of the most fearsome and elusive dragons), triggering a chain of events that will lead to a greater understanding and appreciation of the role each member of the clan plays in securing a harmonious co-existence with their supposed enemies.

The animation from the Dreamworks team is superb, with the Viking clan providing a unique cast of characters that are richly exploited by the artists. The exotic island setting and astonishingly realistic Viking boats provide the film with its singular uniqueness, and the sequences at sea – both above and below the waterline – are literally ground-breaking. But at the heart of this film is the friendship between Hiccup and his wounded Night Fury 'Toothless'. With the benefit of a great deal of screen time, it is here, in a divinely rendered, high-walled grotto, that the film truly comes into its own. The revelation of Hiccup's marvellously inventive creation that helps his newfound friend to fly is rich in detail and wonder – to the point where, when it appears that Toothless might not survive the ultimate battle sequence, we find ourselves in real lump-in-the-throat territory.

How to Train Your Dragon achieves what it sets out to magnificently. It is helped by a marvellous script that powers along with supreme confidence and manages to successfully combine high-energy action sequences with some beautifully studied, intimate scenes between a father and son as they struggle to respect the strengths each bring to the future of their clan. Ultimately, it is this celebration of the difference that we each bring to our world that elevates this film from being a stunningly imagined animation adventure to being a captivating film of immense heart and soul. Unmissable.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspapers Group and was published in the print edition of the Geraldton Guardian.