I was digging through my school assignments and found my Comp I essay from last semester... Thought y'all might appreciate this.
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There’s an unspoken rule in Hollywood that a film must be rated R to be considered “art.” This does not mean all R-rated movies are classified as art films, of course; some movies, like
Deadpool, ride their R ratings like a sparkly unicorn, reveling in the crass and taboo. It seems odd, then, that critics have chosen to hide behind this age-restricted gate, preferring to share their space with the likes of
Fifty Shades of Grey than mix with the swarms of romcoms and action movies that congregate under PG-13. But for whatever arbitrary reason, it has become accepted that, for an “art film” to be taken seriously by the industry’s leading critics, it must be rated R, even if one simply adds a few extra swear words to get there.
It is for this reason that
WALL-E, Disney-Pixar’s Academy Award-winner from 2008, will never truly be considered an art film. But in spite of the benign G rating,
WALL-E shares many characteristics with the elegant greats, and I hope to prove to you that it is worth another look, even for the most serious critic.
WALL-E is a 90-minute sci-fi/action film set in the much distant earth—or what’s left of it. As the film sweeps across the desolate landscape in the first few minutes, we learn that humans have long since evacuated the trash-covered surface, leaving behind an army of miniature “trash compactor” robots to try and clean up the mess. Now, over 700 years later, only one of the orange-colored, tread-wearing “WALL-E’s” is left. Our friend WALL-E dutifully continues with his endless task, pausing along the way to collect interesting trinkets and befriend cockroaches. But when his usual routine of scavenging is interrupted by a sleek, spotless model named EVE who’s scanning the surface looking for an unknown object, their structured robot lives are set on a collision course that will determine the fate of humanity.
Although that plot may sound adorable—and there is certainly much about the film that warms the heart—
WALL-E is quick to show you that it is not merely a goofy kids’ animated film. In fact, the film thrives on ironic juxtaposition, and within the first ten minutes we are treated to a variety of surprises. Instead of a dramatic score accompanying the film’s opening space shots, we are greeted with the crackly, chipper tune of “Put on Your Sunday Clothes” from the 1964 musical
Hello, Dolly! When the score finally does slip in, the futuristic melodies are primarily composed of strings, bells, and eerie harp. As for our protagonist, the carefree, innocent WALL-E is sharply contrasted with the desolate and dry-colored landscape around him. Our horror and confusion set in as we watch WALL-E carelessly scalp parts off of his dead compatriots to keep himself running.
As if that wasn’t enough to clue us in to this film’s complex nature, we quickly learn that WALL-E doesn’t talk.
Well, he does—all the robots do—but they use extremely limited vocabulary. WALL-E’s contribution to the dialog consists mainly of purrs, croons, and shrieks, with about five or six one-word phrases mixed in. The only true conversation we hear for the first 30 minutes is the brief exposition given in the form of old advertisements that play on scratchy TVs in the background of WALL-E’s world. We do not hear anything else until WALL-E finally encounters some humans much later in the film.
This risky creative choice forces the bulk of the movie to play like a silent film. The movie uses all of the same tactics to convey emotion and bolster the plot as the classic silent films did: exaggerated expressions and gestures, a boisterous score, and suggestive foreshadowing hidden in the characters’ everyday activities. The result is an immersive, startling journey that’s both colorful and thoughtful.
This alone sets
WALL-E apart from most action-oriented animated films, but to further secure its standing, the film distinguishes itself with superb writing. The attention to detail is astounding, as is clearly seen through the film’s devotion to its theme. “Theme” in the screenwriting world refers to the core value of a film, a value that should be consistently reflected in nearly every shot. In the case of
WALL-E, the theme focuses on allowing morals to trump protocol, as the robots (and humans) constantly struggle with choosing their “directive” over the greater good. Although this is clearly displayed through the interplay of the main characters, a careful viewer will spot its influence in even the smallest background detail.
A prime example is WALL-E’s interaction with the “doorkeeper” robot that controls the elevator to the bridge. WALL-E waves at the robot, as he does with everyone, but the doorkeeper, whose only function is to push buttons on a control pad, struggles with the concept. After WALL-E leaves, the doorkeeper tentatively flexes his hand-like extension, testing out the motion. By the time WALL-E comes back down the elevator, the doorkeeper enthusiastically “waves” at him, delighted at his newfound skill. This and other little interactions that decorate the plot throughout are a testimony to the careful writing and devotion to consistency.
There are many other reasons why
WALL-E sets itself apart from the average animated film: the hyper-realistic animation, the racy inclusion of live action sequences, and fine-tuned emotion from many of the characters. Still, there are a few elements that have likely kept it from being an instant classic on everyone’s list. Although much of the animation was ahead of its time and continues to hold up brilliantly, animating humans has never been Pixar’s strong point, and the rounded, homogenous models seen here are not spectacular. The multi-layered “moral” of the film, while timely, has given some viewers mixed messages. Even the film’s greatest strength—the lack of dialog in the first 30 minutes—caused some critics to dub the film “overrated.”
Is this why the film passed into relative obscurity soon after its successful release? Unlike most other Pixar properties,
WALL-E has not been given a sequel or spin-off series, and the merchandising was relatively limited. The film only received a passing presence in Walt Disney World and other attractions. Could it be that the film simply wasn’t as conducive to the usual dog and pony show? Or did even Pixar realize that
WALL-E was their love letter to the art film genre, a match that was never meant to be, and let it fade quietly from the spotlight?
Perhaps we’ll never know, but in the meantime, there is much to love about this charming, oft-forgotten classic from Pixar’s roster. As the film continues to age beautifully, I can only hope that others—including you—will be willing to give it another viewing.
