WHEN JOHN Lasseter, founder of Pixar, took control of Disney’s animation department, he was faced with a challenging dilemma.
Yes, he wanted to improve the standard of the company's computer-generated features. After all, what sort of perfectionist could bear to watch Walt's heirs continue to cough-up balls of phlegm like Chicken Littleand Meet the Robinsons?On the other hand, Lasseter doesn't want Disney's own-brand films to be so good that they bear serious comparison with Pixar's copper-bottom classics.
Say hello to Bolt. It's funny, but it's not quite as funny as The Incredibles. It looks nice, but if you think it looks as nice as Wall-Ethen you're wearing your glasses upside down.
The central conceit invites mildly unflattering comparisons with an early Pixar release. In Bolt, the canine star of a TV action series believes he actually possesses superpowers and is made aware of his ordinary mortality by a more knowing sidekick. That story is told with some subtlety, but it was told somewhat better in Toy Story.
Nice job, John.
None of this is meant as serious criticism. Though it may not live up to Pixar's absurdly high standards, Boltis a delight from its frothy beginning to its pleasantly blubby denouement. The story begins with a furious action sequence from Bolt's TV show, after which we learn that the little white dog (voiced with surprising adolescent zip by John Travolta) has been duped into believing he really can bring down fighter jets with his magic bark. When Bolt escapes from his Hollywood caravan and accidentally gets shipped to New York, certain uncomfortable realities are rammed home. Back in LA, Penny (Miley Cyrus), his owner and co-star, falls into despair.
The key to the film's success is the neat triangular relationship between Bolt and his two contrasting sidekicks: a world- weary cat named Mittens and a deranged hamster called Rhino. Mark Walton brings amphetamine energy to the rodent's ravings, while Sussie Essman (Jeff's foul-mouthed wife from Curb Your Enthusiasm) has more than enough bile in her timbre for the angry moggie.
We should also mention that the film is screening in 3-D at some venues and that, for at least the third time in the last 50 years, the novelty of that tiresome process is beginning to wear off. Mind you, I fully expect John Lasseter to make it work wonderfully in the next Pixar movie.
