"Onward"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“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.