Pixar's Elemental: strong on romance, weak on allegory

I have similar feelings towards Elemental, Pixar's latest film, as many others (judging mainly from YouTube). On the strength of trailers and movie clips, I wasn't too eager to go to the cinema to watch it, and was tempted to wait until the Disney + release. When I did watch it at the cinema, however, I was pleasantly surprised and had a really good time.

Why wasn't I more excited for the film, then, as I could see from the trailers etc. that the animation would be stunning and colourful? The general impression of the Elemental's premise seems to be "haven't we seen this before?". A world with humanised elements doesn't come across as very innovative from a studio that has already given us humanised toys, bugs, monsters, fish, emotions and more. What bothered me more than a certain staleness in the Pixar formula, though, was the staleness of the themes addressed. Were we really getting "let's overcome prejudice" and generational conflict? Again?

I've seen the "let's overcome prejudice" theme in animated films and elsewhere many, many times. Zootopia (or Zootropolis in Europe, but as I don't know why the title was changed I'll stick to the original one) is the most high-profiled example among the animated flicks, and to be fair I thought it handled the subject matter rather cleverly. More recently, we've had Raya and the Last Dragon and Luca, and apparently Trolls World Tour from Dreamworks (which I haven't seen) tackled the same issues. It's especially popular to use allegories when trying to put the anti-prejudice message across, and while I can appreciate the good intentions behind them, I feel as if I see another clunky metaphor for immigration (looking at you, Marvel's Secret Invasion) I shall scream. I've already expanded on why I especially dislike allegories where humans are the discriminators and the discriminated against are another species of some kind. At least Elemental doesn't go down that road, but still: this has been done.

Generational conflict is the latest favourite topic of animated Disney films, and it sometimes crops up in Pixar too. I'm getting pretty tired of this as well, especially as generational-conflict films tend to be short on villains. Encanto, Strange World, Turning Red and now Elemental all have the younger generation questioning and/or wanting to break free from the older one, and zero villains.

But enough whining (for now). In spite of my misgivings, I very much enjoyed Elemental, which luckily isn't just Zootopia all over again. What I especially liked about the film was the romance. Here we have two protagonists – the prickly fire girl Ember and the somewhat mushy but endearing water guy Wade – unapologetically falling for each other in a classic romcom scenario. When's the last time we got that in an animated film? Seems like ages. And it's not just one of the characters doing all the running, either. Ember and Wade see the point of each other and complement each other: she appreciates his ability to connect to others, he admires her spark and can-do approach. It's really sweet.

The other main story thread, about Ember's parents' experiences as immigrants to "Element City" and how they affect Ember, has its moments too, though for my part I was more into the love story. Ember's sudden realisation that she doesn't really want to take over her father's shop felt as if it surfaced a bit abruptly after we've seen her repeatedly trying to prove to her dad that she's ready to take over. But maybe that's the point: she feels so guilty about not really enjoying shop work that she's suppressed her ambitions.

The main problem with Elemental is that the allegory of elements living together in one city doesn't serve either of these plot threads. Yes, it's visually impressive, and has inspired the animators to a lot of creative character and city designs. But it doesn't really work. However romantic the scene is where Ember and Wade finally dare to touch and manage to do so without destroying each other, you can't help wondering what will happen when they get even more tactile, plus if and how they'll manage to have children. 

As for the immigrant story, its personal approach is both a strength and a weakness. Unlike Zootopia, Elemental isn't about bringing harmony to a whole society; it's just about Ember trying to have a relationship and find a career that fits her talents without upsetting her parents. This makes the film more engaging and less finger-wagging than if it had gone further down the social commentary route. On the other hand, it can't use the same gambit as Zootopia, where there were no one-to-one parallels between different animals in the film and different groups of people in the real world, which lead to more general and less infected musings on the nature of prejudice. But in Elemental, the fire people are immigrants; they've already been established as such within the story. However, the physical danger that water poses to fire, and fire to everything else, has no equivalent in the real world. Elements really don't mix, but humans can. 

I don't think Element City is meant to be a one-to-one parallel to, say, New York (what would that imply about the air and earth people – that there are some immigrants who've had it easy?), but with some real-world parallels being so explicit, Elemental falls between two chairs when it comes to its world building.

Quibbles aside, Elemental is a heartwarming love story and sometimes touching family drama which is beautifully animated. It's definitely worth watching in a cinema. But Pixar does need to look out. In a film like Inside Out, they were really committed to the idea of animating a girl's emotional development by making her emotions into characters of their own. They had fun with the concept, whereas in Elemental, the animated elements are mostly a way to dress up a story that might as well have been told as a live-action romcom featuring humans. If the story and concept don't gel, then maybe one of them has to go.

Filling a Downton-shaped hole: Sanditon series three

Yep, I'm late with my blogging, which should really have taken place last week. My excuses are pre-vacation stress and a complete lack of inspiration. But now the vacation has started, and I have a given subject after having watched the whole series three of Sanditon.

Admittedly, there's not much scope for in-depth analysis (which suits me fine, to be honest), as this remained an enjoyable soufflé of a show throughout. The main difference to series one and two was that this time around, we got a satisfying ending. Series three was the final one, and its creators knew it, so they tied everything up in a pretty bow, something critics hate but viewers like myself love. Much as I've tried to see the point of "dynamic" endings that are more like "real life", few things beat a conclusion to a story which clearly signals that everything will be all right.

And that's not the only thing this show succeeded with. I have an impression, too, that it was popular. In (admittedly anglophile) Sweden it was aired on our main channel in a prime-time Saturday slot, and a common line in conversations with other costume-drama lovers became "you've seen Sanditon, of course". Yanks seemed to have loved it as well. Also, the fact that the show was saved from cancellation and then got two more series demonstrates that it must have done something right.

So, what is its appeal? After all, there is plenty to criticise. It's unashamedly shallow, making Downton Abbey look like Dostoyevsky in comparison, and the characters' mind-set feels more modern than Regency. Charlotte's proto-feminism and "follow your heart" rhetoric, and the respectful way it's received by her swains as priceless pearls of wisdom, strain credibility. Marriages of convenience were very much a way of life, and Georgiana's mother, for instance, would not have any reason to be shocked to learn that her daughter wasn't head over ears in love with her fiancé. Arthur Parker refuses to live in a ménage à trois with Georgiana and said fiancé because he would rather "live alone than live a lie". Well, those are exactly his options. If a gay man in Regency England wanted to get any at all, he had to "live a lie". And a Duke was expected to marry and produce heirs, whatever his inclinations. While I could buy why Arthur was upset that his Harry chose to become engaged to Georgiana of all people, I did wonder what exactly he thought would happen.

But for all the clichés, not to mention the unnecessarily drawn-out romance of Charlotte herself and its idiotic misunderstandings, Sanditon was never dull. The acting was consistently good; the actors played every scene, however melodramatic, perfectly straight. The characters were likeable. While much of the story was predictable, there were a couple of surprises and nice details: the unenlightened judge who nevertheless sees himself obliged to judge Georgiana's case fairly; some nuance added to the rakish Sir Edward's character which kept you guessing whether he was serious about Augusta or not; the vicar's realisation that he disapproves of his sister's autumnal romance with Dr Fuchs, not because Fuchs is too sciency but because he (the vicar) doesn't want to live alone; Harry's mother being perfectly aware of and unfazed by his preferences, but anxious that he should escape the gallows (and preferably secure the family's future by doing so) – these were plot points you couldn't necessarily see coming, and were welcome because of it. 

I should also mention that Arthur's rejection of the ménage à trois plan (which sounded pretty good to me, if Georgiana hadn't had a better suitor waiting in the wings) was given some credibility by his fondness for both Harry and Georgiana. He wasn't just thinking of himself; he was convinced that two people he loved would be unhappy together and didn't want to witness it. Arthur's and Georgiana's friendship was a sweet detail throughout the series, which I thought added to their respective character.

Also, while highlighting the good points of series three, Colbourne's lawyer brother turned out to be hot (and better at shaving than his bro), so there's that.

So, to circle back: why does Sanditon work? One important factor, I believe, is that we've missed series like this. That's why I mention Downton in the headline, though Downton in my opinion is a superior show. The point I'm trying to make is that long-running period dramas that focus heavily on relationships, with a sizeable cast and room for plenty of twists and turns and parallel plots, have a large and faithful fanbase which TV producers should perhaps be more mindful of. There's a reason why Downton, Upstairs Downstairs and, in its day, The Forsyte Saga became such big hits. This is why I hope The Gilded Age will eventually become a bigger thing and fill the void. And maybe ITV should give Beecham House another chance?