Up

Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) spent his youth idolizing the seasoned adventurer Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer). Watching an old news reel in a theater, little Carl had his crash helmet and goggles at the ready to dream of traveling the world to see creatures from distant lands—namely Paradise Falls. He finds a kindred spirit in a neighborhood girl, Ellie (named for and voiced by Elie Docter, director Pete Docter’s daughter). In describing the continent where Paradise Falls is to be found, she whispers, “It’s like America… but south!”

The opening to Pixar’s latest gem is a bittersweet memory that takes us through Carl and Ellie’s life up to the present. While Ellie’s passing is implied by a hospital bed followed by a funeral, it has to be one of the most painful expressions of inevitability I have seen on film—animated or otherwise. Carl isn’t beset by grief, but he resides in that place… literally. The house, full of books, knicknacks, a lifetime of memories, represents Carl’s attachment to Ellie in a manner that a child just might understand. Thus, we can forgive the overt symbolism.

Now in retirement, the soundtrack to Carl’s whimsical, daily routine is “Habanera” from Bizet’s Carmen. It fits the curmudgeon. But just when his plan to spend the day loafing on his front porch is about to come to fruition, a developer wants to buy him out of the home he and Ellie so painstakingly remodeled. He refuses to budge, and an unfortunate accident forces him into action. “What do I do now, Ellie?” he asks. Carl spent most of his life selling balloons, and so he puts them to use to make his escape to the place his wife, his best friend always dreamed of seeing.

And that’s just the beginning! A Wilderness Scout named Russell (Jordan Nagai), relentlessly in pursuit of his badge for helping (or harassing) the elderly, finds himself an unwitting stowaway with the square-jawed, no-nonsense Carl. They use shower curtains to maneuver to their destination. In fact, much care has been taken in providing detail and color in this animated outing that focuses more on visual expressiveness than impressiveness. It looks ostensibly animated, but there’s a charm to it. Even the lens flares (J.J. Abrams take note) have a flat, geometric quality that works within the style of circles and lines being used here. I’ve been thinking lately how much work must go into the eye movements, such that we can tell with a single downward glance what the troubled Carl is thinking. The wizardry in Pixar’s films has always been in the storytelling, whereas movies such as Shrek always bothered me with the tendency to rely heavily on shameless product placement thinly disguised as pop culture sight gags.

Here, the story reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle, one of Hayao Miyazaki’s master works. While the visual style is quite different (Miyazaki’s films are painstakingly hand-drawn), the spirit of adventure is present—figuratively and literally, as in the name of Muntz’s dirigible. One difference, and only a minor quibble, is that hardly any time at all is spent showing us sights along the way. They arrive at their destination rather quickly so that a subplot can get underway.

The subplot involves what became of Charles Muntz. I will only leave you to speculate on his motives, but suffice it to say the earlier story is set aside for a while to take us into an action mode. It is kind of funny watching two old guys raising weapons and throwing out their backs in the process. There’s also an army of talking dogs that I, as a shameless dog lover, found amusing—particularly a doberman who has a broken translator making him sound less like Darth Vader and more like Alvin Chipmunk. Odd indeed… but you have to give the filmmakers credit for coming up with the electronic translator collars. We’ve seen a few too many movies where real dogs are given animated mouths and the effect is either disturbing or annoying. Here the talking dogs are animated, but the mouths don’t move. Clever.

The real purpose of the story comes to light in two heartfelt sequences. The first, which I cannot spoil, involves a scrapbook of Ellie’s, shown at the beginning of the film, where she documented her childhood adventures, and left blank space for those that await her. Carl discovers that life’s adventures are about more than just running away to distant lands. Ellie, more or less, wished for him to let go so that he may experience another kind of journey. The second involves Russell, who relates the growing separation between him and his father, whose presence in Russell’s scouting activities wanes. Russell says he enjoyed something so “boring” as sitting on the curb and counting the red and blue cars that go by. It’s obvious that the movie’s central theme is: Time is fleeting for us all… but will the dad sitting in front of me, constantly checking his iPhone for work emails fail to see the irony?

It’s not to say the film is a downer. Quite the opposite. It’s a wonderful voyage with thoughtful little nuances in each character, scene, and setting. And if you’ve ever wondered what kind of jokes dogs would tell if they could speak, here’s your chance.

Up • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1 • Running Time: 96 minutes • MPAA Rating: PG for some peril and action. • Distributed by Buena Vista Pictures