Review of The Incredibles (2004) by Genaro C — 23 Jul 2013

It is no secret that Pixar animation studios has churned out some of the finest animated features of the past decade, some of which are of such quality that a strong case can be made that they are comparable to the greatest of the Disney films. Following the almost ludicrous success of Finding Nemo, the studio adopted an entirely new direction for the next project and the result was The Incredibles. In my personal history of watching movies, this one has gone through unusual developments. When I watched it in theaters, I enjoyed it but did not feel that it made an indelible impression (probably because I was so fixated on the trailer for Revenge of the Sith). As the years went on I gave it repeated viewings, finding more and more to appreciate each time. Now, I regard it as the strongest film in Pixar's roster.

Admittedly, in its own line this is one of the more difficult films to grow attached to, probably because it is noticeably more intelligent than the majority of the others. While I enjoyed such outings as Finding Nemo and A Bug's Life, it is undeniable that they lack the sophistication seen in the greatest of the Pixar films. Finding Nemo, for all its visual strength and vocal talent, boasts a very standard storyline, as is the case with the latter. The Incredibles, though, is bolstered by an involving narrative and sharp script that touch upon a whole smorgasbord of social topics, giving it a satirical edge that is not present in any of its contemporaries. There is a very subtle sense of humor at work here, such as when Mr. Incredible and Frozone discuss one of the most laughably common mistakes that super-villains commit, and when Syndrome later makes that same mistake. Mid-life crisis, fear of competitiveness, the dangers of hero worship and marital strain are all part of this tale, and there are more than enough jabs taken at superhero conventions to satisfy those familiar with the material.

The strongest aspect of The Incredibles lies in its characters. Mr. Incredible, also known as Bob Parr, I find to be one of the more complex creations of the studio. From some of his more silent and anonymous acts of heroism we can tell that he has a sincere desire to help people. However, there are also strong indicators that his actions are partially driven by a pining for the "glory days". At once, what we get is a hero who has his fair share of faults, not the least of which is his neglect of his family, the members of which also have distinct and well-defined personalities. Speaking of which, the scenes where we see the whole family together are easily amongst the best in the film and an excellent representation of the thematic strength present, also providing many of the needed moments of humor; there is even an amusing sequence where the two parents are arguing over which route to take to get to a certain part of the city despite the fact that there is a giant robot on the loose. It is quite intriguing watching them because there is a sense of familiarity to it all; one would be hard pressed to find a kid with access to a television that did not identify with this stuff. In fact, that is another thing I believe elevates The Incredibles above the other Pixar productions. It is doubtful that many kids care for the art behind making food or the inflated effects of consumerism, but it is difficult to not care for what is going on here, and beyond that it is easy to root for the key players because the overall goal is a good one: we want to see them overcome their differences and become more united.

As is the case with all of the pertinent films, the visuals are of the finest quality. As befits the genre, there are many actions sequences contained, but they are all well executed and kinetic, with plenty of moments where we get to see the heroes use their powers in interesting ways. There are various locations to keep the film feeling dynamic, including a delightfully old-fashioned city scape, a secret island with a volcano, Syndrome's headquarters and the home of Edna Mode. Something notable is the stark difference in tone between the scenes of typical middle-class life and the sequences of heroic derring-do, a technique that was used, albeit less effectively, in Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. The former ranges from calm to drab (particularly in the workplace) while the latter are colorful and energetic. It is an effective contrast that helps us understand why Bob misses the old days so much.

If there is any weakness to be found it is probably that the climax feels a little overdrawn, which can be partially attributed to the simplistic design of Syndrome's robot. Even so, it is still a well-thought action sequence that benefits from many shots where we get a good idea of how huge the robot is compared to the heroes. This is crucial to any movie with a giant character and commonly seen in the greatest of the Godzilla movies.

There is a persistent misconception that animated films are ultimately only for kids. This manner of thinking has thankfully been reduced to one degree or another, but not sufficiently. In truth, when they are made with quality and intelligence, like the pertinent one and many others in its own line, I believe they have a capacity to be just as timeless as any great classic. This is because they can be appreciated on different levels as we age. Kids no doubt enjoy the more energetic sequences and colorful personalities, but as the years roll by more is found that is of value. That is the reward and appeal of a great animated film and something that such films as Chinatown, Goodfellas and Apocalypse Now, for all their greatness, cannot fully achieve.