It's unfair to say that Pixar has lost its mojo over the last few years, but there's no doubt that the studio no longer has a monopoly on mainstream animated films. In the years since 2010's Toy Story 3, the film that capped off a decade of unparalleled quality and cinematic mastery, the road for Pixar has been a little bumpier. Operating under the Disney banner, the studio released a string of lackluster sequels, including two new chapters in the Cars franchise and the disappointing Monsters University. While all the sequels haven't been bad, even a strong follow-up like Finding Dory (which was a box office behemoth) doesn't stand as one of Pixar's most memorable efforts. In addition to the franchise plague, there were major struggles with two original projects- Brave and The Good Dinosaur. Despite interesting ideas, those were undoubtedly some of the weakest Pixar films yet.
Pixar's newfound problems were compounded by the ascendance of Disney Animation, which was brilliantly revived after several years of mediocre output. At one point, the intelligence, wit, and quality of a Pixar film was easily distinguishable from other animated movies. But with near-masterpieces like Zootopia, Wreck-It Ralph, Moana, and the omnipresent Frozen, the line between Pixar and everyone else is blurrier than ever before. And then weeks ago, there was the bombshell that Pixar genius John Lasseter had abused his power for years and engaged in practices of harassment at work. Lasseter took a leave of absence that very well could be permanent, leaving the studio in a state of limbo. Considering the fact that the studio has only released one true masterpiece this decade (Inside Out) with nothing but sequels on the docket (granted, I'm very excited about both Incredibles 2 and Toy Story 4), I went into Coco seriously wondering about Pixar's future.
And then, over the course of 105 perfect minutes, Hollywood's most iconic animation house reminded me what they can do when they're firing on all cylinders. Coco is a masterpiece. Full stop. I really don't need to say much more. Flock to theaters to see this thing- it is one of the very best films of the year. On paper, Coco seemed like it could be the next movie in the string of original missteps for Pixar. The film was initially canceled after the release of The Book of Life, but director Lee Unkrich decided to move forward anyways. This was cause for concern, but there's no reason to worry- this is one of the finest films that Pixar has ever made. Blending innovative world-building, unpredictable, masterful storytelling, and the kind of raw emotion that made the studio famous, Coco is a jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring work of art. Thought Pixar's glory days were over? Think again.
In the Rivera family, there is a long and painful history involving music. Young Miguel Rivera (Anthony Gonzalez) tells the story early in the film of how his great-great grandmother, Mama Imelda (Alanna Ubach), fell in love with a musician who later walked out on the family. Because nothing is more important than family, Imelda proceeded to ban music completely. While Imelda later passed on, the last reminder of this generational story is Mama Coco (Ana Ofelia Murguia), the daughter of Imelda and the unknown musician. The ban is primarily reinforced by Miguel's abuelita (Renee Victor), who will do anything and everything to make sure that music is never heard in the household again. Instead, the Riveras have become shoemakers, devoting their time and attention to a booming family business.
There's just one small problem- Miguel is a musician, and he's convinced that it's his destiny to follow in the footsteps of his great-great grandfather. On Dia De Los Muertos, Miguel learns that Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt), the most famous musician in Mexico and his own personal idol, may just be his great-great grandfather. Despite an intense fight with his grandmother, Miguel runs off to play in a contest in the town square. But when he tries to "borrow" Ernesto's guitar for the competition, Miguel is instantly transported to the Land of the Dead on the same day that so many spirits are returning to the human world. To get back home, Miguel will need the permission of his late family, but their insistence that he abandon his musical dreams becomes a problem. With that in mind, Miguel knows that there's only one person who can take him home- Ernesto de la Cruz. Along with Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), a fading spirit hoping to return to the world of the living, Miguel embarks on a journey that will change his life and his family.
If you go back to Toy Story and the early Pixar movies, they aren't exactly the most visually dazzling films ever made. Now, I know they were revolutionary aesthetic achievements at the time- nobody had ever done what they were doing with computer generated images. But they have dated severely, and to ignore this fact feels like blind nostalgia. I say all of this for one simple reason: Pixar's visual style has evolved astronomically over the course of this decade. Some of their worst recent films are stylistic triumphs the likes of which the medium has never seen before, as The Good Dinosaur, Brave, and Cars 3 all depicted vistas and real-world locales with a level of precision and depth that was virtually unprecedented at the time of their release. They are such richly detailed films that they feel real, with little to truly distinguish them from photographic images.
From a visual perspective, Coco is hands down the best work Pixar has ever done. It is eye-popping, genuinely incredible stuff, and it took me to a world beyond my wildest dreams. This film is drawing on the traditions of the fantasy genre, blending reality and fiction in a way that is wonderfully imaginative. In terms of its storytelling (more on that soon) and its color palette, Coco feels like it was directly inspired by iconic films like The Wizard of Oz- and that isn't a comparison I make lightly. It is an experience with the power to transport you to a whole new world, and it's so utterly magical that I'm fairly certain my jaw hit the floor a few times. Pixar has always been on the cutting edge of animated technology, but they've never made something as wondrous as this. The Land of the Dead feels so vivid and thoroughly realized, a majestic, kaleidoscopic world of beautiful surrealism. I've never seen anything like this before, and it's a large reason why Coco works as well as it does.
If Coco was just a gorgeous movie to look at, it would still be worth seeing. But the Pixar formula comes down to a unique combination of visuals, storytelling, and emotion, and each element is in full force throughout Coco. The narrative here feels authentic and true, and its meditation on tradition and culture never misses a beat. The story unfolds with an effortless sense of energy and poise, utilizing the three act structure to sheer perfection. I've heard some complain that Coco is predictable, and I see some merit in that interpretation. Sure, you know that it's not going to end in tragedy. And yeah, I guess it is pretty clear that Ernesto de la Cruz won't be the hero of the story. But despite these hints of familiarity, Coco takes so many turns that it upends predictability at every moment. There were some surprises in here that I truly didn't expect, moments that shocked me and touched my heart. I can always tell if a movie is really working judging by my reaction to the twists of the story, and everything in Coco just clicked for me.
And then there's the emotional kicker. It wouldn't be a Pixar film if it didn't try to make you cry, and Coco goes for the knockout punch in its final act. Surprisingly, I didn't shed any tears this time around (I guess Bing Bong and donated toys just get me in the feels), but Lee Unkrich and Adrian Molina use all of the tools at their disposal to create an emotional impact. I love when films take characters in unexpected directions, shifting our relationship with them and changing how we think about their actions. Some of the best films in 2017 have succeeded at this enormously difficult task, but Coco does it with an impressive degree of ease. The emotional notes are graceful and quietly affecting- they don't feel as manipulative as the opening few minutes of Up, but they're just as poignant and heartbreaking. To say much more would delve into spoiler territory, but I'll say this- you won't be able to hear "Remember Me" without getting choked up.
Coco hits the Pixar trifecta, embodying every single thing that this studio does right. Believe me when I tell you that this is one of the very best films that they've ever created. Even beyond the core things that you've come to expect from Pixar, each little note is powerful and memorable in a wonderful way. Coco is practically the studio's first musical, and their collection of songs is truly terrific, highlighted by "Un Poco Loco" and the aforementioned "Remember Me." The pacing is impeccable, and the third act achieves a sense of dramatic momentum that is thrilling and awe-inspiring in its power. Coco is tuned to perfection, and it just keeps getting better and better as it moves forward.
It's rare for me to get swept up in a movie these days. I think it's just a by-product of seeing so many movies, and then responding to them all in a critical fashion. I'm definitely not complaining (I love doing this stuff, otherwise I just wouldn't do it), but the way I watch movies has changed drastically over the last few years. So when I'm genuinely taken away by a film, it's an absolutely blissful experience. I expected to enjoy Coco, but I didn't expect to be so completely engrossed by the film, so invested in the characters and the world that Unkrich and Molina created. Coco is Pixar of the highest order, a brilliant swirl of artistic ingenuity, tender storytelling, and old-fashioned movie magic. Don't even think about missing it. After a few missteps, the best animation studio in the game is back on top.
THE FINAL GRADE: A+ (10/10)
Images: IMDB/Disney Pixar
Pixar's newfound problems were compounded by the ascendance of Disney Animation, which was brilliantly revived after several years of mediocre output. At one point, the intelligence, wit, and quality of a Pixar film was easily distinguishable from other animated movies. But with near-masterpieces like Zootopia, Wreck-It Ralph, Moana, and the omnipresent Frozen, the line between Pixar and everyone else is blurrier than ever before. And then weeks ago, there was the bombshell that Pixar genius John Lasseter had abused his power for years and engaged in practices of harassment at work. Lasseter took a leave of absence that very well could be permanent, leaving the studio in a state of limbo. Considering the fact that the studio has only released one true masterpiece this decade (Inside Out) with nothing but sequels on the docket (granted, I'm very excited about both Incredibles 2 and Toy Story 4), I went into Coco seriously wondering about Pixar's future.
And then, over the course of 105 perfect minutes, Hollywood's most iconic animation house reminded me what they can do when they're firing on all cylinders. Coco is a masterpiece. Full stop. I really don't need to say much more. Flock to theaters to see this thing- it is one of the very best films of the year. On paper, Coco seemed like it could be the next movie in the string of original missteps for Pixar. The film was initially canceled after the release of The Book of Life, but director Lee Unkrich decided to move forward anyways. This was cause for concern, but there's no reason to worry- this is one of the finest films that Pixar has ever made. Blending innovative world-building, unpredictable, masterful storytelling, and the kind of raw emotion that made the studio famous, Coco is a jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring work of art. Thought Pixar's glory days were over? Think again.
In the Rivera family, there is a long and painful history involving music. Young Miguel Rivera (Anthony Gonzalez) tells the story early in the film of how his great-great grandmother, Mama Imelda (Alanna Ubach), fell in love with a musician who later walked out on the family. Because nothing is more important than family, Imelda proceeded to ban music completely. While Imelda later passed on, the last reminder of this generational story is Mama Coco (Ana Ofelia Murguia), the daughter of Imelda and the unknown musician. The ban is primarily reinforced by Miguel's abuelita (Renee Victor), who will do anything and everything to make sure that music is never heard in the household again. Instead, the Riveras have become shoemakers, devoting their time and attention to a booming family business.
There's just one small problem- Miguel is a musician, and he's convinced that it's his destiny to follow in the footsteps of his great-great grandfather. On Dia De Los Muertos, Miguel learns that Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt), the most famous musician in Mexico and his own personal idol, may just be his great-great grandfather. Despite an intense fight with his grandmother, Miguel runs off to play in a contest in the town square. But when he tries to "borrow" Ernesto's guitar for the competition, Miguel is instantly transported to the Land of the Dead on the same day that so many spirits are returning to the human world. To get back home, Miguel will need the permission of his late family, but their insistence that he abandon his musical dreams becomes a problem. With that in mind, Miguel knows that there's only one person who can take him home- Ernesto de la Cruz. Along with Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), a fading spirit hoping to return to the world of the living, Miguel embarks on a journey that will change his life and his family.
If you go back to Toy Story and the early Pixar movies, they aren't exactly the most visually dazzling films ever made. Now, I know they were revolutionary aesthetic achievements at the time- nobody had ever done what they were doing with computer generated images. But they have dated severely, and to ignore this fact feels like blind nostalgia. I say all of this for one simple reason: Pixar's visual style has evolved astronomically over the course of this decade. Some of their worst recent films are stylistic triumphs the likes of which the medium has never seen before, as The Good Dinosaur, Brave, and Cars 3 all depicted vistas and real-world locales with a level of precision and depth that was virtually unprecedented at the time of their release. They are such richly detailed films that they feel real, with little to truly distinguish them from photographic images.
From a visual perspective, Coco is hands down the best work Pixar has ever done. It is eye-popping, genuinely incredible stuff, and it took me to a world beyond my wildest dreams. This film is drawing on the traditions of the fantasy genre, blending reality and fiction in a way that is wonderfully imaginative. In terms of its storytelling (more on that soon) and its color palette, Coco feels like it was directly inspired by iconic films like The Wizard of Oz- and that isn't a comparison I make lightly. It is an experience with the power to transport you to a whole new world, and it's so utterly magical that I'm fairly certain my jaw hit the floor a few times. Pixar has always been on the cutting edge of animated technology, but they've never made something as wondrous as this. The Land of the Dead feels so vivid and thoroughly realized, a majestic, kaleidoscopic world of beautiful surrealism. I've never seen anything like this before, and it's a large reason why Coco works as well as it does.
If Coco was just a gorgeous movie to look at, it would still be worth seeing. But the Pixar formula comes down to a unique combination of visuals, storytelling, and emotion, and each element is in full force throughout Coco. The narrative here feels authentic and true, and its meditation on tradition and culture never misses a beat. The story unfolds with an effortless sense of energy and poise, utilizing the three act structure to sheer perfection. I've heard some complain that Coco is predictable, and I see some merit in that interpretation. Sure, you know that it's not going to end in tragedy. And yeah, I guess it is pretty clear that Ernesto de la Cruz won't be the hero of the story. But despite these hints of familiarity, Coco takes so many turns that it upends predictability at every moment. There were some surprises in here that I truly didn't expect, moments that shocked me and touched my heart. I can always tell if a movie is really working judging by my reaction to the twists of the story, and everything in Coco just clicked for me.
And then there's the emotional kicker. It wouldn't be a Pixar film if it didn't try to make you cry, and Coco goes for the knockout punch in its final act. Surprisingly, I didn't shed any tears this time around (I guess Bing Bong and donated toys just get me in the feels), but Lee Unkrich and Adrian Molina use all of the tools at their disposal to create an emotional impact. I love when films take characters in unexpected directions, shifting our relationship with them and changing how we think about their actions. Some of the best films in 2017 have succeeded at this enormously difficult task, but Coco does it with an impressive degree of ease. The emotional notes are graceful and quietly affecting- they don't feel as manipulative as the opening few minutes of Up, but they're just as poignant and heartbreaking. To say much more would delve into spoiler territory, but I'll say this- you won't be able to hear "Remember Me" without getting choked up.
Coco hits the Pixar trifecta, embodying every single thing that this studio does right. Believe me when I tell you that this is one of the very best films that they've ever created. Even beyond the core things that you've come to expect from Pixar, each little note is powerful and memorable in a wonderful way. Coco is practically the studio's first musical, and their collection of songs is truly terrific, highlighted by "Un Poco Loco" and the aforementioned "Remember Me." The pacing is impeccable, and the third act achieves a sense of dramatic momentum that is thrilling and awe-inspiring in its power. Coco is tuned to perfection, and it just keeps getting better and better as it moves forward.
It's rare for me to get swept up in a movie these days. I think it's just a by-product of seeing so many movies, and then responding to them all in a critical fashion. I'm definitely not complaining (I love doing this stuff, otherwise I just wouldn't do it), but the way I watch movies has changed drastically over the last few years. So when I'm genuinely taken away by a film, it's an absolutely blissful experience. I expected to enjoy Coco, but I didn't expect to be so completely engrossed by the film, so invested in the characters and the world that Unkrich and Molina created. Coco is Pixar of the highest order, a brilliant swirl of artistic ingenuity, tender storytelling, and old-fashioned movie magic. Don't even think about missing it. After a few missteps, the best animation studio in the game is back on top.
THE FINAL GRADE: A+ (10/10)
Images: IMDB/Disney Pixar
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