Usually, I have no problem producing opinions enough about an animated Disney film to fill a post or two. But with Moana - marketed in most of Europe as Vaiana, for copyright reasons apparently - I find myself struggling a bit. (It's a name, how can you copyright it? Wouldn't whoever owns the rights be thrilled over the extra free advertisement? Don't tell me the Italian, er, entertainment profile actually had anything to do with this decision? Anyway...) I didn't dislike it by any means: it has an engaging heroine, a likeable, flawed hero, some hummable tunes and, towards the end especially, a touching moment or two. However, for once when watching an animated Disney film in a cinema I found my attention wandering. I actually spent some of the time thinking about possible storylines for Frozen 2 - a subject for another time - because Frozen this film ain't.
For one thing, it takes a goodish while to get started. The plot hurdle which prevents Vaiana - I'll be a good little European and call her that, since they went through the trouble of making an English version of the film where she's called Vaiana throughout (seriously) - from leaving her home island right away to find her destiny just feels contrived. Not until she gets away at last and finally runs into the vain demigod Maui on a desert island did the film gain interest for my part. Sweet as Vaiana is, she is your usual, plucky Disney heroine who is in fact far braver and more resourceful than her male counterpart etc.; it's nothing we haven't seen before. Maui is funnier - his musical number "You're welcome" was the best one in my book - and a more rounded character. In fact, I found him far more likeable than Kristoff in Frozen, and I thought it a pity that there was no romance forthcoming between the protagonists.
But this is now a standard ingredient in the new Disney formula. It started with Merida in Pixar's Brave, which wasn't even that big a hit. Then Frozen happened, and love-interest-free Elsa got spectacularly popular. Someone at Disney must clearly have thought: "Hey, maybe she's so popular because she doesn't have a love interest? She's a strong, independent female character who doesn't waste time with lovey-dovey stuff... This is clearly the way forward." Now, I don't think Elsa's lack of love life had much to do with her popularity - it was more down to her interesting story arc and a great song - but, nevertheless, the animated Disney films since Frozen have been remarkably devoid of romance. True, many of the old Disney prince/princess pairings were beyond bland (aren't Disney princes the most colossal waste of space? With the exception, perhaps, of one...). But there have been many sweet romances too - think of Rapunzel and Flynn Rider in Tangled, for instance. I really miss the romance ingredient, and I can't see why Disney heroines shouldn't be able to be strong and independent and have some love as well.
Another thing the new Disney formula has all but done away with is the centre-stage villain. For a few years now, Disney films have had plot twists relating to the villain side of things, and it's true that when done well these twists give you some pleasingly jaw-dropping moments. By now, though, I would welcome the recurrence of a villain in the Scar or Jafar mould - obvious, yes, but brainy, suave and full of sarky (ideally British-accented) villain banter. We're sort of onto surprise villain reveals by this time, anyway - I can't say I fell off the sofa by the twist in Big Hero 6, for instance. Vaiana does have one obvious, almost-centre stage villain in the giant crab Tamatoa, but he's... well, he's a crab. His villain song Shiny has its moments - I like the part where he suddenly gets really mean and personal in his attack on Maui - but it's not memorable in the same way as, say, Scar's Be Prepared or Doctor Facilier's Friends on the Other Side. When I remember the first-class bad guys Disney has been able to produce in the past, I really can't get too excited about a boastful, singing crab, though to his credit he does at least relish his own villainy.
Yes, I imagine that Frozen's success was helped by the fact that the Disney formula had some new, fresh ingredients. But if you use them over and over, then they won't feel as fresh anymore. If you ask me, there's nothing wrong with adding some more traditional but spicy ingredients in the form of a romance or a charismatic, attention-grabbing villain. Next time, could we please have them back?
onsdag 22 februari 2017
onsdag 8 februari 2017
The Halcyon and the first-episode problem
Swedish television has been fairly quick off the mark and has already aired the first episode of the new ITV costume drama The Halcyon, premiered in the UK not so long ago. And I must say it was far from terrible. My expectations weren't that high. I'd read an article about the show that sounded as if the people involved thought they were slightly better than Downton - never a good sign - because the employees at the eponymous hotel were more independent than the supposedly over-deferential Downton staff. (Where does this idea come from that the Downton servants were deferential? Remember Miss O'Brien and the soap? Thomas framing Rose's dad-in-law? Edna nearly tricking Branson into marriage? Downton servants have been up to all kinds of mischief, even if the remaining ones do sing "Auld Lang Syne" in the final episode.) Moreover, one interviewed actress referred to her part as a "trope". This seemed to bear out my suspicion that the series was mostly about the setting - "Hey, let's do a TV series about a glamorous hotel in London during WWII where the guests lived the high life while bombs rained down" - and that the characters would be puppets representing a particular demographic, social caste and (caricatured) political opinion. Here's the snooty society lady - there's the pretty, honest girl who cleans the rooms, or something along those lines. A bit like Maid in Manhattan, only in wartime London and without the romcommy froth.
There was a bit of that, I suppose; one of the characters is a pretty, honest receptionist, for instance, and both Lord Hamilton's (the hotel owner's) wife and mistress are good at being snooty in their own special way. But on the whole, things could have been a whole lot more schematic. The script wasn't scintillating, but neither did it clunk, and the story flowed smoothly. The acting was good, and you got a feeling that this could shape up to become something.
It's not there yet, mind you. The WWII setting is a drawback; there's even a wicked Nazi siren, as in the Upstairs Downstairs sequel, and where Nazis go in, nuance goes out. The emotional stakes aren't very high as yet. So Lord Hamilton doesn't see the point of his younger son's university career? Call that a fraught father-son relationship? Lady Hamilton (I think she was the "trope" mentioned in the article, but Olivia Williams plays her very well, so maybe she was short-changing herself and her part) bemoans the past at one time, recalling how in love with her husband she once was before their marriage deteriorated because of his serial unfaithfulness. But there's nothing in the lukewarm present to suggest there was ever a deathless romance there. The sweet receptionist is set up to be in a love triangle between an American journalist and the eldest Hamilton son, but again: no fireworks so far. Also, aside from the Nazi siren, there's no sign of a villain. The hotel manager Mr Garland has a rather nice arm-twisting scene with an English newspaper man (who meekly goes along with camouflaging a blatant case of blackmail as a friendly chat - "I like you too"), but something tells me this doesn't make him the villain, only a harassed individual trying to hold everything together in times of crisis.
I didn't, in short, start to care for any of the characters in the first episode, with the possible exception of Garland. But then that's the problem with first episodes, especially in ensemble pieces. When the main players and the whole set-up have to be introduced and put in place, there's really no time to introduce in-depth characterisation right away. So what can you do to get a viewer hooked?
A clever, funny script is one way to impress - but, as I said, The Halcyon's script, though in no way bad, doesn't offer much in the way of sparkle. There's also the "style first, substance later" trick which works especially well with villains: a character can be entertaining even before his/her motives are explained. That's not The Halcyon's way either. What it does do is establish at least one relationship between main characters that shows promise of development. Lady Hamilton despises Mr Garland, whose duties include keeping her husband's bits of skirt out of her sight, and he in his turn isn't too keen on her, as his loyalties lie with Lord Hamilton. Just when the lady has decided to give up on her marriage and retire to the country, however, her husband has a heart attack, and she has to step into the breach for the sake of the hotel. So, will she and Garland learn to work together and appreciate each other's good parts, how long will it take and to what degree can we expect them to become matey? Even knowing the characters as little as I do, I'm mildly interested in how this particular plot line plays out.
A piece of advice routinely handed out to hopeful authors is "what story do you want to tell?", and though I find it irritating - how could anyone possibly know that until they've told it? - there's some truth in it, as it highlights the importance of a human interest angle. To decide a setting that appeals to you and then randomly throw some characters into it, as I feared The Halcyon would do, isn't a promising way to start a story. From the start, the characters' story-arcs have to come first, and the back-drop should stay exactly that: a back-drop. The Halcyon might succeed in this or it might not, but at least there's room for hope.
There was a bit of that, I suppose; one of the characters is a pretty, honest receptionist, for instance, and both Lord Hamilton's (the hotel owner's) wife and mistress are good at being snooty in their own special way. But on the whole, things could have been a whole lot more schematic. The script wasn't scintillating, but neither did it clunk, and the story flowed smoothly. The acting was good, and you got a feeling that this could shape up to become something.
It's not there yet, mind you. The WWII setting is a drawback; there's even a wicked Nazi siren, as in the Upstairs Downstairs sequel, and where Nazis go in, nuance goes out. The emotional stakes aren't very high as yet. So Lord Hamilton doesn't see the point of his younger son's university career? Call that a fraught father-son relationship? Lady Hamilton (I think she was the "trope" mentioned in the article, but Olivia Williams plays her very well, so maybe she was short-changing herself and her part) bemoans the past at one time, recalling how in love with her husband she once was before their marriage deteriorated because of his serial unfaithfulness. But there's nothing in the lukewarm present to suggest there was ever a deathless romance there. The sweet receptionist is set up to be in a love triangle between an American journalist and the eldest Hamilton son, but again: no fireworks so far. Also, aside from the Nazi siren, there's no sign of a villain. The hotel manager Mr Garland has a rather nice arm-twisting scene with an English newspaper man (who meekly goes along with camouflaging a blatant case of blackmail as a friendly chat - "I like you too"), but something tells me this doesn't make him the villain, only a harassed individual trying to hold everything together in times of crisis.
I didn't, in short, start to care for any of the characters in the first episode, with the possible exception of Garland. But then that's the problem with first episodes, especially in ensemble pieces. When the main players and the whole set-up have to be introduced and put in place, there's really no time to introduce in-depth characterisation right away. So what can you do to get a viewer hooked?
A clever, funny script is one way to impress - but, as I said, The Halcyon's script, though in no way bad, doesn't offer much in the way of sparkle. There's also the "style first, substance later" trick which works especially well with villains: a character can be entertaining even before his/her motives are explained. That's not The Halcyon's way either. What it does do is establish at least one relationship between main characters that shows promise of development. Lady Hamilton despises Mr Garland, whose duties include keeping her husband's bits of skirt out of her sight, and he in his turn isn't too keen on her, as his loyalties lie with Lord Hamilton. Just when the lady has decided to give up on her marriage and retire to the country, however, her husband has a heart attack, and she has to step into the breach for the sake of the hotel. So, will she and Garland learn to work together and appreciate each other's good parts, how long will it take and to what degree can we expect them to become matey? Even knowing the characters as little as I do, I'm mildly interested in how this particular plot line plays out.
A piece of advice routinely handed out to hopeful authors is "what story do you want to tell?", and though I find it irritating - how could anyone possibly know that until they've told it? - there's some truth in it, as it highlights the importance of a human interest angle. To decide a setting that appeals to you and then randomly throw some characters into it, as I feared The Halcyon would do, isn't a promising way to start a story. From the start, the characters' story-arcs have to come first, and the back-drop should stay exactly that: a back-drop. The Halcyon might succeed in this or it might not, but at least there's room for hope.
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