Cars Again

Pixar films have been praised for its return to good, basic storytelling, the magical stuff that apparently had been missing the traditional Disney comic machine. However, you can't underestimate the power of computer graphics in storytelling.

In film after film, as you're engaged in the story, you're amazed at the effects. The desolate highways, the overhead lamps, the desert scenery, the shimmer off the cars themselves, the dirt on the tires, the cavernous depths and angles of the racetrack, the gloppiness of the tar on the roads. All of it contributes to an "how do they do that factor", the kind that's missing from the traditional SF blockbuster.

Only a handful of traditional special effects films stand out with the quality of their effects. Jurassic Park giving rise to realistic (enough) dinosaurs. Terminator 2 with its morphing technology (until everyone ripped them off). The Matrix with its hyper-crisp photo-realism giving 360 spins around Hong-Kong style wire-fu (until everyone ripped them off too). The impressive Gollum. Most special effects films work much better if the underlying story is compelling.

Cars treads (pun intended) over some well-worn area. The premise is borrowed nearly wholescale from Doc Hollywood a movie that's barely on the tips on anyone's tongues. If it succeeds, it does so because it's not terribly preachy, it's fun in its observed details, and it tries to teach a little bit of American auto history, about a time when the novelty of driving lead people to drive.

Steeped in nostalgia and small-town antiquery, it's not really a return to Waltons, but to a simpler life where people knew people, and yet, it's a modern twist, the inhabitants of Radiator Springs consist of some small-town types, the doc, the police car, Mater, a hick, but also Italian, a Latino, a sassy black. Even as all of these are stereotyped, they aren't stereotyped in the usual way. Real Italian is spoken, and there's a passion for cars.

Lightning McQueen is never made so hideous that his transformation to someone that cares is that unrealistic. While he doesn't quite embrace small-town values, he does begin to care for a little more than himself (he's at least aware of the history of racing, making him not obviously shallow).

If the film suffers, it is because there are some nods to expected story telling. He learns lessons from his elders, and even simple Mater, on how to drive. He learns to appreciate the friends he makes. He's playful with Sally, though it has the sizzle of a middle school romance, playful, but not much more, no heavy sexual innuendo, making the film family friendly. (Somehow they managed to stick the word "hell" a few times through, but it's become innocuous enough).

The race itself becomes one big lesson of "winning isn't everything", which, despite it's wholesome lesson, is not often seen in film these days, and often not shown as "losing is better than winning" (e.g., in Friday Night Lights, the underdogs lose, and their is bitterness when that happens).

Like Star Wars, you admire how the film observes its details, and that its slow running time gives a chance for slow characer evolution.

Entertaining and touching, even if sometimes a bit predictable.