Review of The Peanuts Movie (2015) by Mikey S — 22 Dec 2015

The Peanuts Movie certainly does feel the loss of C. Shulz behind this re-vamped 3D version of the classic cartoon series. And that is perfectly fine. What his son does do is provide a sincere and likeable homage to his father's brilliance, while moving us forward in to (what one can hope) is a new era of his legacy.

I should be clear, Shulz is a personal hero of mine. If I could choose to travel back to sit down with anyone for an afternoon coffee, it would be him. He was ahead of his time, and his personal story, which was written all over the Peanuts characters, is heartbreakingly honest and real. He understood depression, he understood anxiety, and he understood inadequacy, all struggles that have grown ten fold in recent years. For anyone who read up on the ambitions of his son in tackling this tailor made for a modern audience version, you will know the amount of time and effort he gave to keeping his father's legacy alive in the final product. This means we feel his loss, for certain, but also means we can celebrate the memory. And that, at least for me, is something of a gift.

The first minutes of the film is a breathless nod to this legacy that moves us briskly through a number of classic references to running gags, moments and trademarks. It culminates in a scene from the previews in which the entire gang is standing by a fence and Chuck declares that his luck has finally changed. It is at this precise moment that the entire fence falls down and we are invited on that all too familiar journey where Charlie Brown, inadequacies and all, must come to term with his own feelings of failure. This opening sequence is intended to remind us that even if Charle's strand of hair is jumping out at us iin full (and kind of oddly creepy) 3D mode, we should feel right at home with the gang we remember.

The actual story of the Peanuts movie is admittedly could have shed a few minutes of screen time, and (without giving away the plot) wraps up a bit too neatly (a product of the length). But this is recognizably minor and subjective, as there is a ton to enjoy along the way. There are clever references to the Christmas specials and the story essentially infuses two complementary lines that includes the flying ace as a symbol of the love story that pushes forward between Charlie Brown and the Red Haired Girl (who is ever so cleverly utilized to mirror Charle's own personal journey). The whole thing is delivered as a nicely wrapped present, but there is definitely something worthwhile that sits underneath the wrapping. What made Shulz specials (and regular series) so compelling and intriguing was that underneath a nice story about a Christmas tree told by two dimensional characters was something darkly honest and human.

There is a moment where Charlie Brown is sitting in the principle's office, and the kid next to him asks why he is there, to which he responds, "Why am I here? I have a serious case of inadequacy." There is an equally revealing moment (one deftly handled by the Shulz script) at the 5 cent psychiatrist stand where we are invited in to the depths of Charle's despair. This despair is symbolized by the scene (again, in the preview) where Charlie Brown is standing at the door of the Red Haired Girl's home, unable to bring himself to ring the door bell. In the final sequence of the film we find ourselves back at this door, only this time Charle's is trying to apply the learnings of introspection and emotional healing that he has aquired along the way. I couldn't help but smile in this moment, partly because I see some of myself in that moment, but mostly because there was a kid directly behind me who leaned forward intently and shouted "you can do it Charlie Brown. Push that button". To me that was a testimony that Shulz son had successfully bridged the gap between the nostalgic two dimensional memories and the 3D modernized recreation.

I hope there is more to come, but if not this film is a nice stand alone gift to fans of the old series and young ones who never had the opportunity to grow up with the series and characters. And for this I say to Shulz, thank you.