Up: Why Adventure Can Remain Elusive

       Up remains one of Pixar's most unique movies. After demonstrating human depths in The Incredibles and Ratatouille, the company decided to take a break from serious stories and decided to have fun. They took a challenge in using a grumpy old man as their protagonist, but the gamble paid off.

        Unlike the last post, which covered Theme and Concept, we're going to look at Up's main theme: adventure. Pixar keeps the theme as overt as possible, using the word adventure as a recurring motif. Charles Muntz, the mysterious explorer introduced as Carl's inspiration, even names his ship The Spirit of Adventure, and we get to see why when Carl and Wilderness Scout Russel meet him. 

        As mentioned in my previous blog post, Pixar makes sure that their themes have balance. In the case of Up, the movie emphasizes that adventure can be crazy and exciting, but you can't let it get to your head. I will explore the theme's light and dark sides.

Defining Adventure

      Adventure becomes Carl's liberation when the explorer has something to lose. The movie starts with explaining how Carl and Elliot are a determined, happy couple. We see him and Elliot struggle with a smile to make ends meet so they can visit Paradise Falls and sympathize with their constant failure; the tears come when Elliot dies before she can make the trip, and Carl feels guilty for not keeping his promise to her. As a last straw, when Carl is forced to move to a nursing home after Elliot dies, he doesn't take the news lying down.  The audience thus cheers when he opens up the millions of balloons that lift his house off the ground and away from the nursing home doctors. Carl's decision liberates him from a mundane, unfair life and gives him a chance of redeeming his promise to Elliot.

        Carl relearns from Russel, an Asian boy who ends up on the flying house by accident, that you only need people you care about to have an adventure. Pixar wants us to view Russel as an annoying, determined, and naive Wilderness Scout who has never been outdoors; they hint at hidden depths, however, when he steers Carl's house through a storm and mentions that his dad lives with another woman. The real sadness hits when he says he used to eat ice-cream with his dad and count cars: "I know it sounds boring, but I remember the boring parts the most." The viewer flashes back to Elliot and Carl's cozy happiness at their more mundane moments and realizes what Carl has been missing.

       Carl's living contrast and representation of adventure's darker side is Charles Muntz, now aged and obsessed with capturing an exotic bird named Kevin. Guilt motivates Carl; pride motivates the former explorer. Also, instead of attempting to live in normal society, Muntz isolates himself in the jungle until he brings back Kevin; he has lost any semblance of compassion or morality. The film hints at this when Muntz displays helmets from people he has killed, increases the tension when Muntz captures Kevin and leaves her babies to starve, and has him cross the line by attempting to kill Russel. By the time Russel's life is threatened, the viewer feels no sympathy for Muntz and see how his obsession has corrupted him. While the dogs participate in mundane actions like playing fetch and asking for treats, their abilities to communicate, cook, and coordinate as a military group (some even fly planes) undermine any "boring" or memorable moments that Muntz might have had with a person.

      Despite seeing how adventure has corrupted Muntz's sanity and morality, as well as Russel's unintended influence, Carl only realizes that he needs people when he sees Elliot's scrapbook. The movie has Muntz threaten Carl's house to distract him from rescuing a wounded Kevin; Carl shows an understandable lack of compassion about losing Kevin, although we see his similarity to Muntz. He regains his sullen composure, shunting aside his guilt and focusing on getting the house to Paradise Falls. With that in mind, we would have had a very different movie if Carl had opened the scrapbook earlier as well as a very different adventure, because she shows that Carl was her greatest adventure. Her words and pictures remove Carl's guilt and allow him to move forward; he rescues Russel and Kevin from Muntz and befriends Dug, a golden retriever ostracized by Muntz's pack. By building a new family with Russel and Dug, as well as the other dogs once Muntz gets defeated, Carl proves himself as the better of the two men and the more deserving of a second chance.

Visual Motifs

       The movie's light tone supports its positive view of adventure; unlike Wall-E's dark palette, or Ratatouille's alternating layers of moody color, Up uses vibrant colors even during the film's most serious moments. The sad beginning has soft pastels that give way to emotional piano music, while Carl's initial takeoff emerges in a triumph of shiny red and blue balloons. Pixar wants it viewers to go on a crazy trip, but not to lose sight of the people they care about; they emphasize that with South America's gorgeous, dangerous landscape and the clean atmosphere of America's suburbs.

      The Spirit of Adventure airship represents the theme's ambiguity during the film. Much like how Carl's house is just a house, the airship is just an airship; it serves to transport the owner and house him safely. Muntz and Carl make the ship symbolic; Muntz uses the ship for both benevolent and nightmarish purposes. It can feed a crew of dogs or cage an exotic bird. The ship also tosses and turns during Carl's climactic confrontation with Muntz, emphasizing how it could be used for good and evil. We finally see this when Muntz gets tangled with drifting balloons and the house floats down (on Paradise Falls, no less): Carl now uses the airship as his home, and the dogs become his pets. He remembers his lessons learned with Russel and Elliot's scrapbook, however; he uses the ship only to spend time with the dogs and Russel so they remember the good times. Carl can find adventure anywhere, and he does so thoroughly.

Closing Thoughts


     Although the viewer senses that Up is a complex movie, we enjoy its fun and empathetic nature far more. Toy Story 3 dealt with toy "retirement", Wall-E was a depressing look at our future, while Ratatouille asked if genius could flourish from the lowest levels; Up offers a thrilling and exciting adventure and second chances. Beneath the colorful exterior, however, lies the Pixar layers that we have come to love mingled with familiar humor. We get hope for our personal futures, and the promise that we can have adventures of our own with a peaceful conscience. No second of life is wasted, Pixar tells us, as long as we share it with someone.

Cars 2- How Spies and Pixar Go Together

    This morning a friend and I did a Pixar double feature: we watched Up and Cars 2. In another post, I'll go through Up piece by piece and explain what writers can learn from the movie. For now, let us turn to writer John Lasseter's latest creative venture.

   Cars 2 ups the stakes from the first movie by introducing the World Gran Prix, an international race that promotes Allinol, and alternative fuel. Racecar Lightning McQueen joins the race and brings his best friend Tow Mater for the trip; they soon find out that unlikely friendships are more complicated than they appear.


   The movie also introduces a mob of "lemon" cars that sabotage the race and Allinol's reputation. Fighting the mob are British spies Finn McMissile and Holly Shiftwell; they recruit Mater after mistaking him for an American spy. They have to stop the lemon car mob from killing Lightning McQueen before the races' conclusion in Britain.


   I will analyze the movie by talking about the movie's concept and themes, and how they play out. I am going to talk about the plot in detail, so please do not read if you do not appreciate spoilers.

                      Concept

           John Lasseter wants to introduce two key concepts during his newest film: spies investigating an oil conspiracy and the regular Cars cast learning to get along. The two concepts have distance that needs bridging and balance, given how far apart they can be on the genre spectrum. Brad Bird previously tackled superheroes in The Incredibles, but he was careful to mix in plenty of humor with the movie's real dangers; when people died in, they usually died in an explosion or off-screen. Lasseter has to recreate that same distance from reality without retreading on Bird's territory.   


           Balance is the first issue; Pixar needs to reconcile the harsh nature of mob conspiracies with the Cars world that we've become familiar with. The company has learned from Wall-E to present a colorful world with hope of getting better, at least in terms of contemporary problems. Cars 2 in this case attacks the idea of alternative fuels and organized crime and shows both being handled with hope.                             
               
                 Pixar also can't seriously injure Mater, McQueen, or the British spies; they only kill two minor characters to establish the movie's stakes. The villains even implement a classic death trap when they finally get their hands on Mater, defusing the fear that Mater will die for real. Lasseter then raises the tension by revealing that Mater was allowed to escape the trap and has a bomb strapped to his air filter. Right after that reveal, however, humor is implemented into a serious car chase and Mater's friends successfully take down the lemon mob; the bomb never even gets a chance to explode, and the viewer can breathe easily. The bomb is also not treated the way it would be treated in real life; it's mostly seen as an obstacle, not a life-threatening terrorist situation until Mater talks to the Queen of England.


             One may argue that Pixar fails to temper the scary stuff in Cars 2, given the number of parents and younger kids who did not appreciate car spies being tortured to death or using guns. Critics also did not appreciate Mater being the film's main character, although he goes through more character development than McQueen. On the other hand, older audiences have appreciated the movie and the James Bond twang within the soundtrack; the movie may have fared better with a PG rating and a marketing slant at teenagers and college students, who would appreciate it.              
          
            Bridging is the second important issue; the viewer needs to believe that the Cars world can have colorful characters like Mater and dangerous ones like the lemon mob. Lasseter manages to introduce exciting spies by first having a short but exciting action sequence in which British Agent Finn McMissile infiltrates a corrupt oil rig and fakes his death. McMissile's explosive gadgets and brutal tactics draw the viewer in; no viewer can resist a movie with gorgeous explosions. Once the tension is set, we switch to Radiator Springs, where Mater plays some pranks on McQueen and learns hilariously to respect his best friend's boundaries. Lasseter wastes no time in connecting McQueen and Mater to McMissile's missions, using the World Grand Prix as a bridge.


            Belief is the final issue; the viewer needs to believe that Mater can appear as an American spy, and that the British agents made an honest mistake. Lasseter finds a creative solution: he has the real American agent attach his information to an oblivious Mater, who then impresses the British agents with his knowledge of old cars. That knowledge helps them find a necessary informant and the lemon mob's connection to the World Grand Prix, and also saves Mater's life when the car bomb is strapped to him. Mater in this case cannot be stupid or arrogant, only tactless; he keeps trying to tell the agents that he's only a tow truck, and that he doesn't want to mess up their mission.        
        
   
      Themes


            The original Cars movie focused on a racecar learning to appreciate people, not metal trophies. He takes that lesson to heart in the sequel with his best friend Mater when trying to work out their unlikely friendship after several months spent in the World Grand Prix. Even if you appreciate people, however, you also have to be patient with their more annoying characteristics. Lightning McQueen has to learn that the hard way with Mater, who has the tact of well . . . an ignorant tow truck. Mater in turn realizes that other cars, including McQueen, think he's an idiot and laugh at him; he tries to change himself; when the change doesn't work out, he leaves so that McQueen has a better chance at winning. Any person in a similar situation would sympathize with Mater, who tries so hard to help.
           
           Friendship has to go two ways, always, Pixar reminds us; that phrase becomes the movie's main theme and visual motif. We first see it when McQueen doesn't like Mater's idea of a good time in Radiator Springs, has the tact not to say so, and tries to have a quiet dinner with his girlfriend; Mater doesn't get it and poses as McQueen's waiter at the dinner. This gets reinforced later when Mater keeps embarrassing himself in Japan and in from of McQueen's race car friends and when he messes up McQueen's racing in Japan. The final glimpse of the visual motif occurs in London, when McQueen chases a bomb-strapped Mater and refuses to let him disappear into the British traffic. Even when Mater uses rockets to propel himself away, McQueen hangs on; although the action further endangers McQueen, it shows that he won't give up on Mater the way he had previously in the movie.                  
               
           Contrasting Mater and McQueen's disintegration friendship is McQueen's rivalry with Francesco Bernoulli, an Italian racecar; Francesco constantly insults McQueen but shows respect and even sympathy for the latter. McQueen soon develops a similar banter and respect for Francesco, recognizing the other car's desire for an honest race and that one should hold on to potential friends. At the same time, becoming friendly rivals with Francesco does not interfere with staying Mater's best friend and in fact helps it thrive.


           Becoming part of a spy mission helps Mater break from his borderline obsessive friendship with McQueen because he meets McMissile and Holly Shiftwell, his "girlfriend"; they give him another world to explore and interact with. He gets his self-confidence back when providing information about car parts, only to lose it when McMissile compliments him on appearing like a fool. Mater finally shows confidence when McQueen encourage him to act on his belief that Miles Axelrod, creator of Allinol and the Grand Prix is the head of the lemon mob. Even though they don't believe him, the British agents' obvious questions help Mater solidify his accusation to them and the audience because he can address any lingering doubts. Mater even becomes an honorary British knight and spy, although he turns down the offer to go on another mission (WHY? We need a Cars 3) in favor of staying in Radiator Springs.


           Lessons to be Learned
         
          1. When you are writing with different concepts, figure out how your characters will bring them together For that, you need to figure out your characters' motivations and roles in the story and how they will change thanks to the plot. Lasseter built the Cars world to inhabit multiple genres and characters; similarly, you should also built your fictional world to inhabit diversity.


          2. Themes often have two sides to them and can be used to establish visual motifs; exploit these motifs in as many ways possible. Use contrasting characters, increasingly intense conflict scenes, and explosions. Everything is better with explosions


         3. Use humor to defuse situations that may become too terrifying, depending on your audience.
     
         
          See what you can do with these lessons, if you can implement them into your writing. See if Pixar can be channeled!


               Image cited
     Lasseter, John, and Brad Lewis. Cars 2. Digital image. IMDB. Web. 12 Jan. 2012. .

Feels Ordinary

In seven hours it will be 2012 and the end of 2011. This year we have seen Harry Potter end on the big screen, allowing us readers to say a proper goodbye, and we have lost beloved authors like Diana Wynne Jones, innovators and actors to that old enemy Time.

Source: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/41/Father_time_7765.jpg

The Vikings did not believe that Time was a man; on the contrary, they envisioned her as an old woman, one of the few warriors who could beat Thor. In return, no one could defeat Time, meaning that Thor did not lose his reputation as a god of Thunder. He then died gloriously fighting a large serpent at Ragnarok, or joining a group of superheroes on Earth. You may believe in the latter if you are a Marvel comics and movie fan.

Thor can teach us a few lessons: we shouldn't be ashamed of Time catching up to us, because it will in the end. We can only hope to do what we can with the minutes and seconds we have left, even the hours. 

Some of those minutes will be spent making mistakes, like breaking a cork while trying to open a wine bottle. Those minutes are not wasted if you take additional time to learn from your mistakes and do better in the future. The benefit of being young: you always have time to learn because Time believes in eventual wisdom. 

This is the first year in which I've felt more like an adult, even with little kid moments, because I've had to step up the plate. It's also the first year in which I've gotten straight A's in one semester and gotten universal praise of a novel-in progress. I've drawn a Halloween comic strip series that fit within October and made it as funny as possible.

None of those seconds were wasted because I kept learning. That is my resolution for tomorrow.

Why How to Train Your Dragon Was a Good Movie

 Once there was a movie chosen randomly at the library. The movie started with decent animation, descended into beautiful screenshots, and exploded with story.

That movie was How to Train Your Dragon, based on the book series by Cressida Cowell. At the same library with the DVD were about five books from the series, and I had room on my library account. I read five books in two days, even with an orchestra concert in the middle of it.

I would not have done so if I hadn't seen the movie first, looked it up online, and found out about the books. In fact, I may have glazed over them while randomly picking novels off the shelves in different library sections. The reason is simple: Cowell has received less promotion in the US than some of her European counterparts like J.K. Rowling, although she is well known in the UK. Although this lack of fanfare makes her more accessible, it also makes her less well-known; I hope that last few books in the series will rectify that international slight.

Cressida Cowell wrote a blog entry about why she loved the movie adaptation of her book, and I agree with her on all of her points: all the changes were made with good reason, Toothless is adorable in both versions, Hiccup's relationship with his father is painfully realistic, and we see the beauty of Berk and Cowell's childhood in three-dimensional animation. In addition, the movie has been nominated for two Oscars and for a good reason; we have a beautiful example of storytelling that inspires the imagination's flight. I mean to explain why since it has inspired tremendous feeling in myself:

 The background music for How to Train your Dragon is epic, exploiting all potential tones through the orchestra, lending emotion that the animation can sometimes not provide. Small wonder it nearly won an Oscar, losing to the Social Network. In the beginning, the epic music may seem campy, and you are right to think so when we are introduced to Vikings and their comic brusqueness; it then becomes powerful when you see Hiccup fly on his dragon for the first time. The music continues to amplify the dramatic tension and action into the movie’s climax, where we get a giant dragon kicking Norse butt and nearly killing it. I won't say WHO the dragon is, but you will see if you nab the movie on DVD. 

     Part of the movie’s success also lies in how it handles genius. The two aspects of genius--invention and testing-- must go hand in hand when attempting to create something new. You have to take the risk and learn from your mistakes. In lesser movies, genius would be taken for granted or used to teach a lesson, as Disney attempted to in Meet the Robinsons.  Hiccup shows his strength not with his brawn, or lack of it, but rather with how he uses his brain. We see this strength in his inventions and in how he tests them. In a similar way, Hiccup uses different and meaningful words to explain why he couldn’t kill Toothless the dragon, not the usual clichés associated with love or with inner morals.   

       
            Emotion- again, emotion drives the plot, not just action. In fact, the moviemakers want to assure the readers that one must only act if faced with a challenge, even if the challenge can be avoided or ignored. The biggest conflict between Hiccup and his father lies in how they handle such obstacles. At the same time, avoiding a necessary conflict is not a wise choice of action, even if it’s the necessary one; Hiccup learns that all too well when things explode in his face and he has to fix it. We get beautiful action scenes that accompany the emotion; the only shame is that the movie's sequels (Legend of the Boneknapper, Gift of the Night Fury) lack that similar emotional conflict.  

          

           Over the holidays I will be analyzing other animated movies that have won me over, and what aspects made them entertaining and deep. I may end up upsetting other people, but I don't care. These movies were fantastic, even if they don't appear so. 

Don't Be Afraid to Grow Up, Young or Old

No longer being a teenager teaches you important things. For starters, there is no such thing as completely attaining maturity. And that's okay.

Second, everyone grows up, despite the Peter Pan myth and the notion of living forever. No one wants to grow old or stop loving the things they love now; think of all the people who have mid-life crises, for example, and buy Harleys. In Florida we have college Quidditch teams and recommendations for the next Game of Thrones book.

Then we have toddlers wearing high heels and posing as Julia Roberts; parents have a reason to be concerned. As noted, we can't stop getting older, but we can certainly not try to speed up the process. Maturity and actual growing will only happen if you stop and let it happen.

Some days I get frustrated because a part of me likes to slow down in the morning and read the latest library book, even when I want to beat the morning traffic and be efficient. That same part of me is the part of me that remains young, the part that allows me to make fun of myself. I can put that laziness (or appreciation for the fine arts, if we put positive spin on this habit) into my stories and create vivid, realistic characters with similar flaws. I can also use it to bond with other people who may have similar habits.

These same people share a mutual love for the same movies and music, even if these movies aren't aimed at our demographic. For example, I have memorized every song in the Little Mermaid, and I'm not ashamed of it. At the same time, I've grown out of shows like Teamo Supremo and Barney; some nostalgia doesn't last. These loves and dislikes balance out so that I will watch Wishbone and Aladdin on Youtube.

Another part of me likes career planning and being on time for school, if not for class. The two are quite different: being on time to school means finding a parking space in the closest lot, while being on time for class means beating the large grandfather clock. I admit that this is the adult side of me, because now I no longer care if I'm on time for my first class and have to relearn it with the fervency of a middle-school student. Again, I can put that in my books because I know kids who used to show up to college classes in pajamas.

Maturity happens when you have to be proactive. When I started to study marketing and aspects of business, I learned that to get any job you have to check application deadlines and meet them as early as possible. I was earlier proactive as a writer after getting disqualified from a writing contest due to a format error. (Yeah, that was not fun.) Now I revise cover letters and resumes ahead of time, much like how I revise query letters and short stories. On some level it means acknowledging that my dream of being a full-time writer may not happen for a long time, but it also means that I'm ready to rough out these years of rejection until one acceptance leads to another. I'm ready to take risks , but I'm also ready for if the risks bail on me.

I'm a young adult. People tell me I'm still young while I worry about my future, and the "adult" part of me reminds me why I should worry. Like my shoulder angel and devil, these parts of me can come into conflict. Part of the fun, however, is the bickering between them; although I may be getting older, parts of my personality will not change no matter what cynical influences appear in my life.

It's more than okay; it makes living an adventure with good and evil on your side. You get to be arbitrary about it until the odd day that maturity wins. And like all things that win, maturity will lose on the even day, but it won't give up.

Neither will you.

Getting a Glimpse of Graphic Design: Doing a Lifebushido Internship

This summer, I applied for internships, learning belatedly that you have to apply six months in advance to secure a position. I finally acquired an online one with Lifebushido; Lifebushido asks students around the world to work on social entrepreneurship businesses.

When I applied, I asked to be on a skills team since I couldn't decide on a particular project. I was assigned to work with Ashutosh Singh's team; his websites help small business owners gain a marketing presence online. These two websites were Ice Cream Cloud and Bizness Brandy; I proofread the sites and designed logos for both of them. Above is the rough logo I did for Bizness brandy; the one for Ice Cream Cloud is still being modified since I'm working with one of the team's illustrations. Once again, you did a great job Julio.

Working on these websites gave me insight into what graphic designers did as a living. Ashutosh pushed me to keep modifying the logos, changing little details to make the sum of the whole better. Writers have to do the same thing for editors, and it can take several hours to get a satisfactory prototype done. The Ice Cream Cloud one has definitely been the most difficult, mainly with creating a circular logo on Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator, but I've been getting better at using Adobe Illustrator to create logos.

Thank you, Ashutosh, for making me part of your project; I hope we can work together sometimes in the future.

Two Months Later

School has started; I'm trying a semester without creative writing classes and with more violin practice. I've learned that parking next to a lake means circumnavigating around it and figuring out which location is ideal.

In my novel, I've written a "why don't you just shoot her" scenario. The scene comes from an immortal exchange between the Joker and his girlfriend, Harley Quinn:

Harley Quinn: Why don't you just shoot him [Batman]?
Joker: "Just shoot him?" Know this, my sweet: the death of Batman must be nothing less than a masterpiece! The triumph of my sheer comic genius over his ridiculous mask and gadgets!

Although the Joker is not the picturesque picture of a sympathetic villain, he has a point. In a novel where the author wants the hero to win, the villain cannot simply kill the protagonist. There has to be a cat and mouse game, a chance for the hero to fight back, and time to hold the story for a long time. In Harry Potter, for example, Voldemort has many times to kill Harry outright but gives him a chance to join him (Book One), fight back (Two and Four), or face his minions (Books Five and Seven, oh so much).

Even if the villain is utilitarian, he cannot kill the protagonist with one gunshot. I don't believe in divinity, but when you control the novel, you are its god. You control what's going on, so you have to manipulate the controls so that a fatal gunshot becomes a flesh wound, or even a swarm of bubbles. In my case, my hero's wound from being shot allows her to escape, just making the "just shoot him" scenario a "nice job fixing it, villain," since the villains are at the tether end of their sanity.

Think about this trope and use it wisely. Wizards in Harry Potter didn't have guns, after all, but they could still be dangerous.