Before I introduce Robogeek's usually well written verbosity, I just want to say... WHAT THE HECK?!?!?!? How... In a million years does THE MASK OF ZORRO get nominated over THE PRINCE OF EGYPT for BEST PICTURE: MUSICAL/COMEDY in the GOLDEN GLOBES? Not that The Mask of Zorro was terrible, but it isn't a MUSICAL and it's not COMEDY. I know this is for the Hollywood Foreign Press, but surely ZORRO isn't THAT lost in translation. (Harry shakes his head in dismay and sighs) Well, here's Robogeek's astute dissertation on the subject matter. Remember... see it this weekend!
ROBOGEEK'S AUDIENCE WITH "THE PRINCE OF EGYPT"
There can be miracles.
How else do you explain a year that's already seen such films as "Pleasantville," "Gods and Monsters," "Life Is Beautiful," "A Simple Plan," "The Butcher Boy," "Saving Private Ryan," "The Mighty," and "Babe: Pig in the City"?
But, in a very significant way, "The Prince of Egypt" towers over all them -- and may ultimately be the one history remembers first out of all released this year. This isn't just a film, it is an evolutionary step forward for cinema itself -- not just animation. Why? Because it, more than any other American animated feature before it, demonstrates the fact that animation is not a genre unto itself, but a tool that can be applied to any genre as effectively as live action. And it does this is by exhibiting truly superb _acting_ through a synergy of voice talent, character design and animation, and direction. There are real _performances_ here, in a _film_ -- not a "cartoon." It is, for lack of less obvious nomenclature, a miraculous breakthrough, one that will forever change the landscape of not just animation, but film itself -- as an art and an industry. My hat is off to co-directors Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner and Simon Wells, as well as everyone else involved at Dreamworks. (You done good, Jeffrey.)
I have no idea if the average viewer will really comprehend the film for what it is, what it represents. So far, few seem to. And, to be honest, it may not ultimately matter, because all they really should see is masterful storytelling, a compelling tale of brothers divided by destiny. A myth most of us know, but still that feels fresh and original in this telling of it, which is staggeringly beautiful. And though not quite a perfect film, it is arguably the most significant accomplishment in cinema this year, especially when you consider the level of difficulty inherent in this endeavor. Film, though some studio executives have forgotten, is a medium of art -- _the_ art form of the twentieth century. And "The Prince of Egypt" is a masterpiece.
Loyal readers will recall a film I reviewed here last December, and continued to discuss in later columns with respect to "level of difficulty." It was a little film called "Titanic." And while I hesitate to draw any broad comparisons (like calling "The Prince of Egypt" this year's "Titanic," as some already have), there are specific parallels I simply can't ignore. Both films were considered massive, nigh-unprecedented undertakings of enormous inherent risk. Both changed the face of filmmaking, representing the first time specific state-of-the-art tools were redirected from their traditional niche- or genre-specific applications to being used to paint on a broad, mature, epic canvas. Each film is a historical drama, one bringing to bear the full arsenal of CG from its roots in science fiction, the other rescuing animation from its pigeonhole in children's films. Both will far outperform what conventional wisdom predicts they'll do at the box office. (No, I'm not predicting "Prince of Egypt" will do $1.8 billion at the box office, but current predictions of a measly $70 million domestic gross are laughable. I mean, even a bad "Star Trek" film can do _that_.)
And, like "Titanic," it's the type of film I've always dreamed of seeing, but never thought I would. Watching the impossible gloriously unspool before me, in the company of two friends for whom it resonated equally, was a religious experience, one of only a handful I've had in a movie theater.
This is a movie you have to go see, this weekend -- and is worth shelling out full price for. Regard it as a referendum on a kind of film that should be made. A chance to tell the industry we are tired of the same old Disney formula. A chance to help get stories for grown-ups told with this medium of magic.
"The Prince of Egypt" is the sum of generations of animation legacy, ascending to a pinnacle of evolution shared by perhaps only one other animated film in existence -- Hayao Miyazaki's "The Princess Mononoke," which will finally be released in the U.S. next year by Miramax (who are watching very closely right now).
Those of you who know and love Miyazaki-san's work know that he opens every film with breathtaking clouds. No one animates clouds like Miyazaki. No one ever has, or ever will. They're pure magic, and emblematic of his artistic genius. I've never seen them rivalled until this Wednesday morning, when I saw the opening shot of "The Prince of Egypt" (which may or may not be a conscious homage, I don't know). It's simply stunning. Staggering, in fact, in the context of what they represent, which is the subtle artistry at work in the film balanced against the grand.
Take the Red Sea scene, the one everyone's talking about. Sure, all the special effects are astounding -- unlike anything ever committed to celluloid -- but what impresses me most about that sequence is how it begins. A quiet moment. Moses steps forth into the sea. He raises his staff. A close-up. He lifts his gaze to Heaven, and the enormity of the moment flashes across his face. The sum total of experience that has brought him to this point. The fulfillment of divine providence. We look at his face in that moment, and we feel the responsibilty that weighs heavy on his shoulders, and the resolve that he summons forth. The power he is about to command in the name of God. His eyes close. The staff comes down. And His wonders are wrought. And you _believe_.
Because of great animation. Because of great filmmaking. Because of great storytelling. Because of great _acting_.
The Plagues scene is another one. All the effects, again, are absolutely stunning, and it's a powerful sequence that, rather than being too short (as some seem to have heard), is instead focused tightly so as to maximize its impact. (If it dragged on, its impact would be deflated.) But what gets me is the scene immediately following, when Moses speaks with Rameses for the last time. It's heartbreaking. And though he emerges with victory, Moses carries the pain of its price with him. As he walks down the stairs with a heavy heart, he stumbles, drops his staff, and breaks down with emotion, slumping against the wall. It's an extraordinary moment, and a potent performance. By this point in the film, Moses is not ink and paint on celluloid, he is a living, breathing human with a soul that we have taken an incredible journey with. And I don't think there are more than a couple characters on film this year who take as compelling and convincing a journey.
After this scene, the aftermath of the Plagues' horror gradually transitions into a celebration of triumph. This narrative bridge starts quietly, as Hans Zimmer's exquisitely textured score solemnly segueways into Stephen Schwartz's gorgeous song "When You Believe," which Miriam (Sally Dworsky) starts singing ever so softly, almost tentatively as she and the characters just begin to realize that a dream has been realized, a promise fulfilled. This transition is so subtle, so integrally woven into the narrative, that I didn't even realize a song had started. And that's why it works. Miriam's words, and of them start so gently they're almost spoken, and Dworsky's interpretation (inhabitation?) of them, perfectly capture and illuminate the moment. Delicately, the song crescendos, Miriam's voice grows more sure as she enters the first refrain -- at which point I realized, oh my God, this is a song. Then the song is handed off to Tzipporah, who starts the next stanza, sung with lush strength by Michelle Pfeiffer, soon joined by Dworsky in duet. After the refrain repeats, children sing in growing, accelerating jubilance, growing louder, joined by a chorus, and then exploding back into the song in magnificent glory. As far as musical moments in film go, this... this is really something. And it takes us right up to the Red Sea scene.
[Oh, and the song just happens to be brilliantly arranged with wonderful orchestration, starting with rich, low strings, joined by graceful winds and a touch of brass, gently swelling into the refrain, and then a rustle of cello summons the second voice, and the orchestra becomes grander. As we arrive at the refrain the second time, the orchestra blooms. (It's a tragedy that the world is being subjected to the abominably over-produced pop Chernobyl that is the Whitney Houston - Mariah Carey version of what is actually a great song.)]
Aside from all the obvious visual wonders of the film, perhaps its most amazing accomplishment is creating living, breathing characters that are _real_. Hands-down, "The Prince of Egypt" features the finest voice characterizations of any American animated feature I think I've ever seen, married with equally strong character design, animation and direction. And while there's outstanding work across the board -- Ralph Fiennes as Rameses, Michelle Pfeiffer as Tzipporah (a phenomenal character design wonderfully animated; I'd kill for an original sketch), Sandra Bullock as Miriam, Jeff Goldblum as Aaron (another exceptional design), Danny Glover as Jethro, Patrick Stewart as Pharaoh, and Helen Mirren as the Queen -- the real standout is Val Kilmer as Moses, which, married to the character animation, yields one of the best acting performances of the year. Seriously.
Granted, all this praise I'm lauding on this extraordinary film doesn't mean I don't have a few quibbles and one complaint. Does the CG and traditional animation seamlessly mesh? Not quite. But then, it's no where near as jarring as the contrast between the two was in "Beauty and the Beast." It's not perfect, but it's damn good. Storywise, the script could have used a little more work. But for those of you worried that the "Titanic" comparisons may carry over in this department, I can safely say that "Prince of Egypt" boasts depth of character development that "Titanic" lacked. Also, I have to say that I really would have rather not had the "comic relief" of the two high priests played by Steve Martin and Martin Short. They aren't really that bad -- I mean, it's not like there are talking animals in this film (thank God) -- but they are intrinsic to my one real problem with the film, the one thing that isn't just a quibble, but a bona fide complaint.
It's the "Playing with the Big Boys" number, performed by Martin and Short. It doesn't work. For me, anyway. Up until the shot just before it (Harry's favorite) the film is a perfect crescendo, building and building absolutely brilliantly. Once you get to that scene where Moses and Tzipporah are riding back into Egypt, you are totally engrossed, involved, and committed. Then, you hit the "Big Boys" number like a six inch speed by bump, and you are taken out of the film. It becomes a little too self-conscious, too hokey, too silly, too... well, cartoony -- at least in relation to the rest of the film. It's way too "Poor Unfortunate Souls" for my taste, and while that number fit in just fine in "The Little Mermaid," it doesn't in "The Prince of Egypt." It took me out of the movie, and the movie had its work cut out for it to get me back into it. It succeeded (almost immediately in the following scene, in fact), but this one scene keeps the film from being perfect as well as great.
Now, I know there will be those of you who will say I just don't get the scene, that I just don't understand why it has to be there. You're wrong. I do get it. I do understand why it has to be there. It just should have been done _differently_, in a tone consistent with the rest of the film, in a manner that didn't interrupt the emotional escalation of the narrative. It could have been done right. I don't think it was. This scene simply lacks resonance, in stark contrast to the rest of the film, which has so much substance. Comparatively, this scene rings hollow and empty. I _wish_ I could go back in time and have this one scene redone right.
But, I can easily forgive the film this one flaw, because it is so vastly outweighed by such abundant brilliance, and it's not nearly as insufferable as, say, the gargoyles in "Hunchback of Notre Dame" or the dragon in "Mulan." "The Prince of Egypt" is a serious film -- something I haven't seen from Disney yet. "The Lion King" was an admirable effort, but falls far short of this one. And in 97 minutes "The Prince of Egypt" pulls off a superior film than "The Ten Commandments" did in 220. (Quick aside: I'm amazed that "Prince of Egypt" was rated PG, while "Babe: Pig in the City" got away with a G.)
"The Prince of Egypt" -- especially once it makes more money than any in their right mind expects it to -- is a wake-up call to film. Animation is coming of age, and is a tool that enables the impossible. A huge door has been opened that we only have to walk through.
Imagine if Warner Bros. unleashed the talent behind their Batman and Superman animated TV series, and gave them a canvas of this size to work on. Imagine "Kingdom Come" done on the scale of "The Prince of Egypt." I get chills just thinking about it.
Imagine what "Tarzan" could be if it didn't have an annoying, jarring, out-of-place Rosie O'Donnell-voiced ape in it.
Imagine what Katsuhiro Otomo and Nick Park and so many others are doing right now at Dreamworks.
Imagine something else for a minute, two months in the future. Besides the obvious Oscar nods one can predict for "The Prince of Egypt," I think the film has earned one for Best Actor -- a nomination which should be shared between Val Kilmer and the supervising character animators for Moses, including Kristof Serrand. (I wish I could name the others, but I can't find their names anywhere on the net; Dreamworks: _please_ post a full credit list on the movie's web site!) I don't expect this to happen, but it should. For the Oscars, acting nominations are selected by actors -- and most of them may fear that casting a vote for an animated character is sacreligious and self-defeating. To them I say three words: BE NOT AFRAID. I challenge you to see this film with an open mind. I challenge you to see a performance that does not have five superiors this year. I challenge you to remember it when it's time to fill out your nominations ballot.
There's a particular scene in the film I ask you to consider -- one of the most potent scenes in any film this year. A shepard who was once a prince hears a familiar voice emanating from a burning bush. Curiosity becomes fear becomes wonder becomes faith. It is the most pivotal and important moment in the film, the fulcrum upon which everything else rests. This scene has to work for the film to succeed. Everything before it culminates in this moment, everything that follows blossoms from it. It is amazing. The subtlety at work in this sequence, the attention to detail, is nothing short of phenomenal. And it all comes down to honest-to-goodness, genuine _acting_, which registers through his voice, on his face, in his movements. It's the moment when I just couldn't help but weep, when I knew the film had me. It's when you will see a completely convincing character. When you connect with a living, breathing soul. When you see Moses speaking to God, as if it's really happening before your very eyes. When you forget you're watching a film.
When you believe.
