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“Long ago, the world was full of wonder. It was
adventurous. There was magic.”
Then came light bulbs. Those were easier. So people
stopped with the magic, moved to the suburbs, and switched on their TVs for
wonder and adventure.
In Pixar’s “Onward”, there are still unicorns, elves,
centaurs, and pixies. It’s just that they don’t act like it. They act like
boring, ordinary things—like dogs and cats, who pick through the trash, or like
middle-class humans with mortgages and dead-end jobs. The really out-there ones
get motorcycles.
The two main characters are elves, and they’re brothers.
The younger one is Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland)—a meek, smallish teenager who
has all sorts of (written-down) plans to become braver, stronger, and more
assertive.
The older brother is Barley Lightfoot (Chris Pratt). He’s
kinda embarrassing. He’s way into magic and board games and other
Dungeons-and-Dragons-type stuff. He’s out of school and his only direction
seems to be nerd-ward.
Both of these kids could use some guidance. But
unfortunately they’re down one parent, because their dad got sick and died when
Barley was young and their mom (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) was pregnant with Ian. So
Ian never met his dad, and Barley says he only has three memories of him
(though it turns out there were four—the fourth being when Barley declined to
go into the hospital room to say goodbye to his wire- and tube-suffused dad).
The family has moved forward since then, but not really
onward.
Then they get a jolt from the past. Ian and Barley’s dad left
them a gift to be opened once they’re both sixteen. It’s a wizard’s staff—a
relic of long ago, when the world was full of wonder—together with instructions
on how to do a spell. If done correctly, the spell will give the boys what they
sorely desire: their dad. For one day and one day only, the spell will bring
their dad back to life.
This gives Ian ideas. And plans. He’s got a list. He’s
going to play catch with his dad, laugh with him, tell him about his whole
life, his dad is going to teach him how to drive, and they’re going to have plenty
of heart-to-heart chats.
But, oh no! They botch the spell! It goes haywire halfway
through and they only get the bottom half of their dad out—his legs up to his
waste, clad in khakis and brown leather dad shoes. Their half-dad can walk, but
he can’t see his sons—he doesn’t have eyes, after all. Nor can he hear them (no
ears) or talk to them (no mouth). Ian and Barley must finish the spell to get
their whole dad back. But to do so, they’ve got to find a rare Phoenix gem.
It’s a quest! Ian has the magical talent, so he wields
the wizard’s staff. Barley has the knowledge—all that gamer stuff paid off—so
he’s the guide. But the clock is ticking—remember, the spell only works for 24
hours. So time is running out on their magical and
ever-so-desperately-longed-for reunion.
If you’re tearing up just thinking about the premise of
this movie, well, yeah, that’s about right. “Onward” doesn’t quite have the
magic of other Pixar greats (oh, the irony). But it’s goofy, fun, and overall a
solid movie. And, oh, in the end, and at a few other points, does it pack an
emotional punch.
Pixar has the market cornered on sadness. I don’t mean
cheesy, bawling-for-no-good-reason sadness—Lifetime seems to have that one
figured out. And I don’t mean emotionally manipulative sadness or punch you in
the stomach and leave you in the gutter sadness either.
I mean beautiful sadness. Meaningful sadness. Important
sadness. I mean sadness like in “Up”, when Mr. Fredrickson reads a note from
his dear Ellie, who passed away too early, telling him to find a new adventure.
I mean sadness like in “Inside Out”, when Riley’s terrible longing for her old
home draws her into the sympathetic arms of her loving parents. I mean sadness
like in “Toy Story 4”, when Woody says goodbye.
Really, it’s “Inside Out” that captures this sadness most
abstractly. The various little parts of Riley’s mind—joy, sadness, anger,
disgust, fear, etc.—help her cope with life. Yet it’s unclear what function
sadness serves. It’s not until later in the movie, when we see how sadness
breaks Riley down, makes her feel like all is not well, makes her need others,
makes her seek out others, togetherness, and the loving embrace of those most
dear to her, that we begin to get it. Sadness can bring joy, or it can mix in
with joy to make something entirely different—not always as pleasant, to be
sure, but every bit as meaningful.
“Onward” channels that sadness too. And, whether or not
“Onward” is as good as the best Pixar movies (it’s not), any movie that can tap
into this beautiful, important sadness, even for a few moments, has earned its
keep.
