Despite my adoration for many things Disney, all kinds of different cartoons were on display to my viewing eyes in the early 1980’s. Early Sunday mornings were one of those times where I was introduced to the works of Mr Jay Ward. Jay’s bag-of-tricks was simple animation, but containing stories with a few extra gags, and acerbic wit.
His most famous work is The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle and Friends. Each half-hour segment would not only contain segments regarding the famous “Moose and Squirrel,” but several other vignettes. These would include the likes of Fractured Fairy-Tales, Dudley Do-Right, Bullwinkle’s Corner, Mr Know-It-All, and Mr Peabody’s Improbable History.
During the 1990’s, an epidemic swept through Hollywood, in which studios suddenly felt they could make plenty of money, turning old cartoons into full-length features (most of them live-action). Unfortunately, Jay Ward and live-action films equaled box-office poison. The track records for 1999’s live-action Dudley Do-Right and 2000’s The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle pretty much speak for themselves: noone went to see them, and you can find them for around $3 at most used DVD stores.
Of all the different segments left from the Bullwinkle show to be made into features, that just left Fractured Fairy Tales, and Mr Peabody’s Improbable History. Though given Dreamworks SKG’s Shrek films were pretty much the 21st Century’s rendition of Fractured, that just left the segments regarding Mr Peabody. Almost 55 years after the characters were introduced, Mr Peabody and his “pet boy” Sherman, have made it to the big screen (in animated form, no-less).
For those of you who weren’t raised on Jay Ward’s shows, Mr Peabody’s Improbably History followed the adventures of the world’s smartest dog, and his “pet boy” Sherman. Using Peabody’s Wayback machine, the two would travel throughout history, visiting all sorts of famous historical (and a few literary) figures. They assisted Robin Hood’s merry men when the famed rogue got amnesia, helped William Tell when he broke his glasses, and helped the famed painter James Abbott McNeill Whistler complete the famed portrait of his Mother (who was a big fan of playing ‘cowboys and indians’). They’ve also popped up in numerous time-travel gags, including an episode of The Simpsons.
Of course, when it comes to the feature film naturally, some creative liberties were bound to take place.
At the start, Mr Peabody (Ty Burrell) is very much unlike other dogs, and at a young age, puts his considerable brain power to bettering himself, and mankind. However, upon finding an abandoned baby, Peabody takes it upon himself to adopt the boy, and raise him as his own.
Though unknown to the rest of the world, Peabody was also able to perfect time-travel. For much of their lives together, Peabody and Sherman (Max Charles) have used the WABAC machine to traverse across time-and-space, giving Sherman a first-person look at what has come before.
Needless to say, Sherman is quite well-versed in history at a young age, and quickly ends up impressing his History teacher on the first day of school. However, when he ends up (unknowingly) showing up a little girl named Penny Peterson (Ariel Winter), she provokes him, leading to a serious altercation. This then leads to a Social Worker named Ms Grunion (Alison Janney) “threatening” Mr Peabody to have Sherman taken away from him.
Peabody then invites Penny and her parents over for a reconciliation meeting. It is during this time that Sherman ends up letting slip about the WABAC to Penny, and…well, let’s just say that in a film involving time-travel, stuff happens.
Any former cartoon brought into the digital world is bound to be filled with bells and whistles, and that’s what is on display here. The Wabac has been transformed into a “futuristic orb,” with floating, 3-D digital touchpads, and more. The art stylings of the environments do evoke the simplicity almost reminiscent to Dreamworks’ Madagascar films, but not pushed quite as far. The characters definitely put me in mind of those from the old animated shows, and even the loose-limbed way they made Sherman walk was fun (I think because I also have exaggeratedly walked like he did when I was little).
Unlike the show, which mainly focused on Sherman tagging along on Mr Peabody’s adventures, the characterizations here are made out to be moreso a father-and-son film. As well, given that Peabody is one of the smartest beings on the planet, it seems that sending his son out into the world is not something he has been altogether prepared for, which leads to much of the conflict in the film.
As seen in the previews, there’s a rather quickly shoe-horned young-love plot between Sherman and Penny, leading to one of those ‘animosity equals attraction’ scenarios we’ve seen in many films before. Penny is probably going to be one of those ‘love her/hate her’ characters to those watching the film. At times she can be quite nasty, but others she can be quite appealing. The inclusion of Penny in the time-travel adventures is a little awkward at times, and it feels like some of these moments would have benefited from a gradual transition. Then again, the running time of the film clocks in at almost exactly one hour and thirty minutes.
One area some may be surprised at, is a few times, the story gets a little darker than one would believe. I found myself surprised that the film would go to the places it did, but it definitely helped advance some of the characters at times.
The film also serves to almost be a statement on certain family set-ups. As some saw symbolism in parts of Disney’s Frozen, it feels like one can find them here in Peabody and Sherman. While most of the people that Mr Peabody knows have no problems with a dog raising a boy, Ms Grunion seems moreso out to prove some form of personal agenda regarding how she feels Sherman is being raised. I think that theme of the film being “it’s not ‘what’ you are, but ‘who’ you are” was a great way to go, and will help those see it as more than just a slapstick comedy.
As an aficionado of the show, I was pleasantly surprised that several key moments in the film mirror or callback to the introductory episode of Peabody’s Improbable History, but with some modern-day embellishments. However, it was less intrusive than say, the mention of “a Who-Phone” in Horton Hears a Who. As well, Peabody is not without his often “lame” puns about history.
With this film, Director Rob Minkoff returns to the Animation Director’s chair for the first time in almost 20 years. A former Disney animator, he previously wrote the Roger Rabbit short Tummy Trouble, as well as co-directed The Lion King. Since then, Rob has moved into live-action, but also still kept to his animation roots, being the director of both Stuart Little films in 1999, and 2002. In 2003, Rob’s name was connected to Sony making a live-action/computer-generated feature about Peabody & Sherman, but talk of the films development quickly disappeared.
Rob is definitely a man who seems to know his comedy, but it can often be in finding a balance between comedy and drama, the line begins to falter a bit. That seems to be the case with Peabody and Sherman. It felt like there were so many extra time-related gags that they could have crammed into the film, but they had to keep reminding us about the Peabody and Sherman’s journey to finding an equilibrium regarding their familial relationship.
That’s not to say that Peabody & Sherman is bad. In fact, it’s one of the few Dreamworks films I’ll give a pass to. I recall last year how I was eager to see The Croods, but found that production to be big on some excellent design-work, but not reaching me when it came to the deeper story dramatics. Peabody & Sherman manages to get to a place at times where I think audiences will connect, but I do hope that Rob Minkoff will continue to do other projects for the company in the future. Not everyone can be a Herman Cappuccino, you know.
Book Review: The Men Who Would Be King: An Almost Epic Tale of Moguls, Movies, and a Company Called DreamWorks
Reading Nicole LaPorte’s The Men Who Would Be King, was almost like going back for a high school reunion, and remembering the old days. As I made my way through the pages, visions of my entertainment-obsessed teen years quickly came back into view.
It was big news in the fall of 1994 when Steven Spielberg, Jeffrey Katzenberg, and David Geffen sat down in front of reporters, and announced they were going to be founding the first new American film studio since Hollywood’s Golden Age. I remember the Time Magazine cover with the three partners, articles about their grand plans for a 21st century studio in Playa Vista, CA, and of course, the company’s quest to break out of a monotonous studio system, and make a utopia where artists were free to express themselves based on ideas, and not marketability. Quality would be the mantra for the studios’ film, television, music, and digital media divisions. However, the dream never quite solidified, and the studio found itself struggling, before soon throwing up its hands and creating less-than-stellar product just to try and stay afloat (remember the 2003 sports drama Biker Boyz? Anyone?).
When compiling the information for her book on the rise and fall of Dreamworks SKG, LaPorte (a former editor for Variety) first attempted to get the story straight from the founders themselves. As one can expect, they didn’t give in to her requests. Of those who were willing to talk, some are mentioned by name, and many are simply titled ‘source.’ Those listed as a ‘source,’ were often very cautious about talking about the company. One meeting that LaPorte had with a ‘source,’ sounded similar to the scene in JFK where Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner) met an informant named “X” (Donald Sutherland).
LaPorte quickly starts building up character archetypes with the three moguls. Spielberg is portrayed almost like a genius-level child, whose ideas and creativity are nurtured to the point where his sensitivity to bad news and negativity is shielded by everyone around him. Katzenberg is the guy who is seen as very quick and always in motion, but cross him, and he isn’t so forgiving. Geffen had always been the enigma whenever I heard the ‘SKG’ moniker. Of the three, LaPorte paints him in a more serious, business-like light. Geffen quickly becomes the person doing most of the heavy-lifting behind the scenes, and is pretty quick with the expletives.
In the first 15 pages, I started having uncertain flashbacks to Ben Mezrich’s The Accidental Billionaires (the unauthorized biography on the founding of Facebook).As the journey into her book began, LaPorte would try to intricately paint scenes with words. However, her work in crafting entertainment-related articles for Variety seems to have helped her writing this book, as I soon got over my fears, and eagerly settled in to reading her story. Unlike Mezrich, LaPorte has plenty of articles and sources regarding her subject, to make the text ‘flow.’
Even so, one thing that may bog down some readers, are the endless amount of names that have played a part in the story of Dreamworks. Many of them that were showbiz names (like Cameron Crowe, Sam Mendes, & Robert Zemeckis) I already had knowledge of. But when it came to some like Paramount Pictures CEO Brad Grey, I had a little trouble comprehending. Then again, maybe it was my inner fanboy reacting negatively as LaPorte pegged Grey as one of the men who seemed disrespectful of Dreamworks.
Dreamworks SKG, as a start-up studio, found itself in a world much different than the early 20th century studios that Spielberg and his cohorts attempted to emulate. In a world where merchandising and home video catalogue titles can help fatten the bottom line of a studio, the start-up had none of these things. However, the ‘K’ and ‘G’ of the studio would often play up their wild card: The Big ‘S.’ Katzenberg and Geffen would often have Spielberg as their poster-boy, and Katzenberg could often sway people into joining the new company by giving them a few moments to chat with Steven. This led to investors showing interest in the company, and even helped Katzenberg lure away some artists from Disney, as he began to start into Dreamworks‘ animation division.
Many people were expecting the studio was going to come charging out of the gate with plenty of product shortly after the big announcement. As it stood, it would take almost 3 years before anything with the Dreamworks logo hit theaters, with only a select few being truly made by Dreamworks. Many of the films released were co-production deals with other studios, leaving much of the profits (if any) split in a way that did not leave the company with much to show for its efforts. In fact, it’d be almost 7 years before the studio would have a hit film’s grosses all to itself, in the form of 2001’s Shrek.
As the productions from the company start to enter into the book’s chapters, LaPorte picks and chooses among many of the studio’s live-action films. Naturally, she goes whole hog on some of the films being directed by Spielberg (focusing on his more dramatic directorial films like Amistad, Saving Private Ryan, & Munich). Some films are chosen for their complex productions (and cast and crew), such as The Peacemaker, Gladiator, and Dreamgirls, which in itself becomes a chapter that really envelopes David Geffen, who had wanted to make the musical into a film if it could be done right. Small shout outs are given to plenty of other film titles, usually the ones that barely made a blip on the box-office radar (such as Paulie, and Small Soldiers).
Animation fans (like myself) will most likely be drawn into the chapters and stories about Dreamworks Animation. Sources chronicle everything from Jeffrey Katzenberg’s hands-on approach during the production of Prince of Egypt, as well as some instances where when an animated film tanked (like 2000’s Road to El Dorado), Jeffrey seemed quick to blame everyone but himself for the film’s failure (on El Dorado, word was he even blamed the film’s songwriter, Elton John).
A couple chapters are also devoted to the now-defunct Dreamworks Interactive, and Dreamworks Records labels. Both of them are intriguing in how Spielberg attempted to bring his creativity to the Interactive unit, and how singer Nelly Furtado’s career was nurtured through the Records label, in the face of the changing music/radio landscape of the early 2000’s.
Reference is even made to Dreamworks Television, which found itself with one major hit on its hands, the Michael J Fox-starring Spin City. LaPorte also chronicles the rise and fall of the studio-produced Freaks and Geeks, which has since earned a cult-following on DVD.
We even learn of the studio’s struggles to go for the gold (aka The Academy Awards). In the wake of the eye-opening Oscar Race ending for 1998 (in which Dreamworks took home Best Director for Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, but Best Picture ended up going to Miramax’s film Shakespeare in Love), LaPorte structures what can best be described as a true campaign war, led by Dreamworks marketing executive Terry Press. Not wanting to be shown up by Miramax again, Press steps up her game, and ended up securing Dreamwork’s Best Picture wins at the Academy Awards for 2000-2002.
LaPorte’s experience writing for entertainment publications definitely helps move the story along, but she has a couple little quirks here and there. One of them is the occasional flinging around of Yiddish words when talk turns to Spielberg. As well, some of her facts aren’t completely infallible. At one point in discussing a spat between Dreamworks and Mike Myers, the book mistakenly says that it was Myers who starred in the 2000 film, The Grinch, not Jim Carrey.
In the end, LaPorte chronicles a start-up that with its big-name star power at the helm, could almost be considered like our current banking system: Too big to fail, or in the case of its 3 namesakes, too famous to fail. The hype was ratcheted so high, that you were either rooting for the underdog, or hoping for them to fall flat on their faces. In the end, numerous influences chipped away at the new studio. From outside influences like business models and the economy, to inner turmoil among producers, studio heads, and much more. Noone said running a studio would be easy, and LaPorte’s book never tires of leading its readers on a wild rollercoaster ride.
Up Harbor Freeway in Los Angeles, and right by the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, lies the campus of the University of Southern California. While it has plenty of your typical academic studies, one that it gained fame for over the years, was its Film School. Some of its noted alumni include George Lucas, Robert Zemeckis, Bob Gale, and Judd Apatow (just to name a few).
USC’s School for the Cinematic Arts is nestled in a small corner of its campus, and almost resembles a small movie studio itself. Its founding was done so by such early screen visionaries as Douglas Fairbanks, and D.W. Griffith. Today, a statue of Fairbanks stands between the George Lucas Building, and the Steven Spielberg Building. Nearby, one can find the John Williams Scoring Stage, and the Harold Lloyd Motion Picture Sound Stage.
Needless to say, as I walked through the courtyards, I dreamed of having a time machine to go back and explain to my teenage self about the wonders of the campus.
But on the day I visited, I came to the Steven Spielberg Building to view an exhibition entitled DreamWorlds – Behind the Scenes, Production Art from DreamWorks Animation.
I was a little surprised at what I found. After having been wowed with The Art of PIXAR exhibition in Oakland, CA back in 2010, I was expecting a large gallery space for Dreamworks Animation’s material. Instead, I found myself in a small room after taking a couple turns from the main entrance.
The highlight of the exhibit for me, were some of the original concept and production materials used in Dreamworks animated features. Such highlights included:
While one wall of the exhibition was made up of original material from the studios’ archives, the adjoining walls were filled with non-original, digital prints of other artwork from the archives. Some were interesting to view, but I would have been more intrigued if they had been original art pieces as well.
In the center of the exhibition, was a screen that looped in with clips from Dreamworks’ features. It also showcased breakdowns of sequences from films like How to Train your Dragon, and also provided us with the trailer for the upcoming Rise of the Guardians. I’m hearing some decent word-of-mouth about Rise, and just might make my first return to the multiplex to see a Dreamworks animated feature since Shrek the Third. Yes, it’s been almost 5 years since I did a ‘theatrical boycott’ on Dreamworks Animation features because of that film (missed out on seeing How to Train Your Dragon on the big screen in the process).
Two video stations were also set up with headsets. One of them featured video testimony from former USC alumni who were now employed with Dreamworks. It seemed pretty persuasive (it made me want to consider working for them!). The other video station featured sets of RealD 3D glasses, and demonstrated Dreamworks’ features with 3D picture quality. I viewed a clip from Puss in Boots, and the majority of the imagery looked good, but I some areas of the image did not seem to phase properly.
For those expecting a full-on museum exhibit, you may be a little disappointed. However, if a little taste of Dreamworks Animation’s creativity on display is what you crave, the small-scale exhibition serves as a great way to view some production pieces outside of the typical Art of book releases.
However, if you do plan to visit, hurry fast. Dreamworlds will only be on display at USC’s Steven Spielberg building until September 7th, 2012.