Zootopia

movie_poster_zootopia_866a1bf2I raised an eyebrow when critics were declaring that with “Zootopia,” Disney had made a triumph of a film tackling racial biases. This is a movie about talking animals after all. But whereas “racial” may not be the right word, it addresses very clearly what it is to be prejudiced, to assume the worst about a person based on their upbringing, their skin or their biology.

And it’s not just a running theme but a core tenet of the plot. Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin) is a bunny rabbit from the country who dreams of becoming a police officer in the metropolis of Zootopia, despite the knowledge that no bunny has ever matched up with the lions, tigers and bears of the world fit for law enforcement. You could even say she’s very much a girl trying to force her way into a boys’ club that doesn’t believe she has the stuff. She’s diminished as figuratively and literally small time and again, and directors Byron Howard and Rich Moore aren’t shy to remind you of Judy’s failures and struggles in pursuit of her dreams. She’s so exuberantly positive and yet even the Zootopia radio is against her.

The moral of needing to remain optimistic in order to achieve your goals would’ve been enough of a life lesson for any other Disney film, but the prejudice subplot of predators going “savage” serves as an added carrot. When Judy meets up with Nick (Jason Bateman), a sly con-artist of a fox, “Zootopia” plays on children’s built-in knowledge of predators and prey, foxes and rabbits, and anything else within the animal kingdom, and then challenges those assertions. Continue reading “Zootopia”

Obvious Child

The films, shows and articles about poor, hipster, 20-something millennials from New York have told their stories by subverting the tropes of the genres to which they belong. You can’t make a romantic comedy unless you make one “ironically”.

Gillian Robespierre may have cracked that nut with her film “Obvious Child”, a story of a poor, hipster, 20-something millennial from New York trying to figure out what to do with her life, until she gets pregnant and is forced to grow up just a little bit.

“Obvious Child” takes the attributes of the coolest rom-coms and the most popular, trashy ones and combines them in a way that’s earnest, funny, heartfelt and real. It supplements the ambitious and quirky blonde working girl with the slacker and potty-mouthed brunette and doesn’t miss a beat. Instead of wackily falling into fountains and poorly choosing work over true love, “Obvious Child’s” lead is her own sort of fuck-up, basket case, choosing less awkward moments and blunt honesty as a way of teetering on good decisions and bad. The film even plucks a best friend and token gay friend from Brooklyn to fill in the rest of the genre’s blanks. Continue reading “Obvious Child”