Hell hath frozen over

So I watched the new Disney animation film called Frozen recently ... and it was actually fun - not that it was that much of a surprise as I had read Movie Bob's review prior. I have to say the visuals were incredible, with super sexy (yes, I said sexy) effects associated with every snow animation. Heck, they even created snow physics for the movie which looks mighty realistic. Needless to say the resulting visuals are brilliant. I think artists have finally mastered 3D with a greater degree of fidelity than 2D could ever offer.

However, with the usual lack of imagination, Disney turns to a 200-year-old story by Hans Christian Anderson for the inspiration for this story. Although I truly wonder why they even bother. If you ever read the synopsis of The Snow Queen, outside of a few circumstantial similarities, there is little resemblance to the original story. I guess that's a point for Disney for creating a movie that is inspired by a book but has almost nothing in common. Of course, in Disney's elaboration, it falls into its usual trap of sprouting sappy concepts of family, love conquers all and having a big bad with almost no discernible purpose. So that's one ragged mark against for their unrelenting adherence to formula. But then the film redeems itself with a nicely juxtaposed sister relationship and a hilariously funny coming of that age under-current that makes every Snow Queen moment unintentionally amusing. For those who have not clicked on Bob's review, I'll spell it out: The Snow Queen's uncontrollable 'magic' and pent up frustrations serve as a duality to her migration into adulthood with the associated sexual needs and secret woman's stuff. The point where the Snow Queen's womb-like ice palace takes on a reddish hue and ice crystals pierce inwards toward the vulnerable Elsa made me laugh out loud. No, I will never understand the discomfort, but, yes, I applaud the audacity that Disney would dedicate a metaphoric moment to the crimson tide.

The expression on Gene's face is priceless

There are also songs too. Of course, none of the promotional material for this film ever makes mention that there's singing, so I would say it's a little cheeky of them to sneak it in. Off topic: If they are so embarrassed to advertise the musical quotient of the film, why would they bother including them in the first place? Fortunately for me, they are actually quite listenable and I'm pretty sure I didn't look at my watch once (a rarity), so a begrudging point in the film's favour. Now, if you've got this far into the review, you might be wondering why I actually enjoyed this film. It is around this point that we are introduced to Olaf, ever-escalating clever dialogue and cute little rock trolls, weighted animation (i.e. not zippy for comedic affect) and many fun moments. The funny thing was, I was actually dreading the introduction of Olaf (the animated snow man) but he somehow escapes his stale comedic side-kick role to provide genuine laughs and a child-like innocence. Even the main protagonists had believable and weighted character progression. Yes, this film is still following The Formula but it somehow surpasses it with excellent animation, strong direction, some catchy songs and hilarious woman's stuff metaphors.

Sweet or sour?

As any (westernised) Chinese restaurant will tell you, the dish needs to have both. You need the sweet to be offset by the sour just as the sour needs to be balanced by the sweet. If it is too sweet, the dish is overpowered by the sugar that flavours it. It makes perfect sense. You need the sour to appreciate what would be far too sweet otherwise. Now before you think I am a prattling foodie (guilty) and this blog has devolved into the words of an amateur aspiring culinarist, this rule remains just as true for other categories. And, if I can be so bold, this defines the universal rule: you need to have balance.

I was watching Dexter and even if the main plot line is far from rainbows and unicorns it generally follows a relatively smooth and 'sweet' path. The adorably altruistic endeavours of Dexter Morgan's plight to rid the world of mass-murderers is tempered by his dark passenger and lust for death. This is why characters like LaGuerta exist. Without annoying characters that do their best to disrupt Dexter's harmless endeavours, you would no longer care as much about Dexter. You like Dexter because you hate LaGuerta (or at least I do). If there are no antagonists to hold your actions in check, it just becomes a run-of-the-mill episode of Ugly Betty. And no one would want that.

My mind is mush

I watched the film Upside Down recently and, god, it couldn't have been written worse if the responsibility had been left to the drunken ramblings of a troupe of peyote-drinking retarded chimpanzees mashing their mutilated stumps for hands against a typewriter where the only keys that worked were s, u, c and k.

This film follows the romantic formula to a tee, except it does everything in its ability to be even less intelligible by discrediting science in the process. The story's premise destroys the basis of physics to such an incredible degree that even a five-year old would state that this film makes no sense and would not have a shadow of a doubt that he was correct in his assessment.

So, the premise is that you have two planets that are perfectly aligned (they spin at the same speed, with the exact same orbit and I would surmise the same mass, considering they're not smashing into each other) such that there is a bridge that transitions between the two of them. So far, so unrealistic. Now here comes the kicker; the gravity doesn't work the same between planets. Oof. Items from the one planet only interact with the gravity of their planet. Ouch. If these foreign elements are retained too long on the other planet, they burn up. Owowowow. Also this gravity apparently only affects certain aspects at certain times (or at least the way that this film conveys it). All this 'science' is introduced so that we can have the world's most convoluted romance story possible:  (narrator voice)

Two people, living in separate worlds ... but connected by love

I'm not sure why they needed to go to such silly extents to create such a convoluted mechanism to keep them apart. Anyway the cereal box summary is: They meet each other at the closest point between the two worlds and fall in love. For whatever reason, the people of either side of the planet deny people from the other side from interacting with each other and she falls back to her planet and hits her head. Dufus (that's what I'm calling him) thinks she's dead until he sees her on TV and then finds a means of reconnecting with her ... although she doesn't remember him (quelle contrived). The visuals are really quite good but, if you've seen inception (or Ring), you should be pretty used to seeing people walking on the ceiling so that novelty wears off pretty quickly. 

And so, to summarise, this was not my cup of tea. This film is like a nightmare that you keep hoping to wake up from ... until you realise you are awake and you are actually watching your mind unravel as you try to make sense of all the inconsistencies. If you do still want to watch this, do it while stoned or heavily inebriated. You have been warned.

The disney formula

I love formulas. My world revolves around devising the formulas that rule our world. The one place I do not like them, however, is in my stories and films. If I recognise the trope early on, and the storyteller does nothing to deviate from this well-worn path, is the moment I begin getting irritated.

Romantic Comedies almost never deviate. Let me see whether you recognise this: An attractive but unlucky in love female meets an attractive rogue whom she instantly hates while this rogue annoys and teases her. They somehow form a pact where they're forced to be in each other's company (usually to assist the heroine in her plight to attract the man she's got her sights on  and that is coincidentally less attractive and has at least one character flaw). They fail in their quest but realise they're in love with each other. The End.

Examples:

Did You Hear About the Morgans, What's Your Number?, For Richer Or Poorer, French Kiss, The Wedding Planner, The Bounty Hunter, Killers, He's Not That Into You, The Proposal, The Ugly Truth, The Dictator, Failure to Launch, Mr & Mrs Smith, 50 First Dates, How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days, Maid in Manhattan ... and the list goes on

Horrible, because that's all I see. Sure, you can mix this up with different contrived scenes through the length of the story, but the trope still remains. Which brings me to Disney films. I hate them ... well, apart from the very few exceptions where the maniacal reigns are momentarily loosened and something less abortive is created. Anywho: I shall now divulge the Disney formula in all its gory.

The story revolves around an attractive young male/female from a less than ideal background. The protagonist gets together with one or two plucky side kicks which provide levity to the stale-as-toast personality of the main character that is as boring as ... well, something really, really boring. There is invariably some kind of rom-com partnership along the way (where the two of them inevitably fall in love) and there is almost always an adversary that needs to be defeated. Nearing the end of Act 2, there's always a lull where the main character needs to find themselves and loses hope ... before they discover the strength they need through the support of friends/family. Needless to say, cheesy morals abound, where believing in yourself, relying on your friends/family and following your heart is the true path to happiness etc. This gets bludgeoned into your head multiple times throughout the course of the story ... and the moralistic theme is always introduced early in the story so that the viewer knows exactly what kind of path the protagonist will take towards final redemption. The End.

Examples:

Dumbo, Bambi, Snow White, Cinderella, Lady and the Tramp, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, The Rocketeer, Aladdin,  Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, Tarzan, Treasure Planet, Tangled, Enchanted ... and the list goes on.

The by-the-numbers story telling and head-bangingly moralistic message makes watching Disney films an exercise in torture. 

please note the whitebread heroine and quirky sidekicks

I saw 'Brave' recently (against my will). A story that revolves around a spoiled child who does everything in her power to avoid responsibility. She has three younger siblings who help her avoid her Mother's ire through magic (and provides levity in the place of the boring main character). Hilarity ensues and she discovers that if she listens and respects her family's wishes, all will be well. She reconciles with her overbearing mother and learns her place (like a good little 1950's stay-at-home wife). Of course, there's an evil antagonist who adds drama/excitement to the mix. Ooooh ... way to break the formula, there.

I honestly don't want to dislike Disney films but there's no good reason that a multi-billion dollar company isn't able to make something fun, original and at least entertaining. Heck, they've had enough attempts. It's just that I want the formula to change. Please change the formula, Disney. Please.

Side note: I remember one of the producers (or something) discussing how they'd paid all this attention to imbuing the heroines' hair with personality. He seemed proud of that. There has to be something wrong with your priorities if you focus more effort towards injecting personality into her hair than into her character.

I can see the future

I have a brain that cannot help seeing the patterns in the stories I read and watch.

I know what the formula is for Scooby Doo and I know the formula for CSI and Criminal Intent and pretty much most TV shows out there. As soon I read the synopsis for The Prisoner of Azkaban, I knew that Sirius would be friendly and that he was a friend rather than the murderer of his parents and would more-than-likely become a foster parent for Harry. It was then just a matter of seeing it play out, rather than actually be surprised when this twist came to be.

A story that is reliant on a twist only works if you don't see it coming. If there aren't any other strings to its bow then it falls flat. A story like Fight Club still works because it is not reliant on twists as its sole hook - it has so many more layers that it can rely on.

Which brings me to romance novels: why are they so popular when the reader should know the basic plot by the end of the first paragraph? Why is it that romance novels religiously follow one (or more) of these plots?