by Joe Hammerschmidt
First off, let’s remind ourselves that it’s just not the best idea to pit one literary ursine hero who had a delightful film adaptation leave a fantastic impression with audiences and critics alike against an eerily similar film. That would be a total lose-lose situation, as both films are exceptionally valid: Paul King’s Paddington 2, an immediate must-watch if you haven’t already; and the film opening this weekend, Marc Forster’s Christopher Robin, a Disney-backed live-action/CG hybrid trodding the same boards, albeit trading originality for bankable nostalgia. Not that it would be a bad trade, there’ll just be a few little, minuscule points of shortfall. No one film is superior from the other, they’re both still very sweet, witty, and at times empathic. Robin’s approach is nearly the same as what one may have picked up from the bear from Peru, almost eerily. A noted familiarity that relies rather exclusively on the visage that one grew up with A.A Milne’s stories, and more so with its Disneyfication dating back to the late 60s. I was more in the latter camp, going as far as the old 80s TV series, along with a few of the films. The humor, heart, and volumetric themes of friendship have proven very consistent. And of course, all the beloved characters are there, with designs now a little closer to Ernest Shepard’s work in the source material. Keeping low expectations in mind, there’s much to enjoy, but not in a large amount that couldn’t be found elsewhere.
Just as much as the heart of London was the centerpiece for Paddington, the Hundred Acre Wood (or rather the forests of Sussex) is of course the full force that drives young Robin’s (Orton O’Brien) childlike sense of imagination, fueled by stories crafted by his otherwise stern father, one of the few things Forster overlooks for obvious time constraints. At age 10, just ahead of being shipped off to boarding school, he’s relishing every opportunity he can for playdates with his stuffed animal friends Pooh and Tigger (once again voiced by Jim Cummings), the nervous Piglet (Nick Mohammed), scholarly Owl (Toby Jones), man-of-action Rabbit (Peter Capaldi), and negative thinking Eeyore (Brad Garrett). Needless to say, his hesitation to grow up is suppressed with adulthood. After WWII, or an undoubtedly rushed credit montage, adult Robin (Ewan McGregor) keeps himself a little too busy with not much time for “play.” A doting yet concerned wife (Hayley Atwell), their joyful daughter (Bronte Carmichael) at the end of her summer vacation, and a struggling luggage business with an unreasonable boss (Mark Gatiss) breathing down his neck? The combination of all three should drive a man like Christopher mad; instead, he finds himself interacting with his “characters” when the moment feels appropriate, specifically when he has the house to himself while mother and daughter are away.
One chance encounter reopens Christopher to that land of childhood optimism, offering the slightly obvious reminder of how valuable adulthood can be when taken with a youthful approach. Said angle runs a trifle muddled, however, with five credited writers (Spotlight scribe Tom McCarthy being the most notable) to ensure it’s truly Christopher’s tale. And while Mr. McGregor casually increases his stock as an impressive dramatic actor in the lead role, unafraid to bare his comedic strengths in a rather restrained fashion, the real stars must be Pooh and his friends. One wishes more time would’ve been spent in that land than just one day, and one also wishes there’d been much more for Capaldi’s Rabbit, rather the most spirited in the group. Of course, Cummings remains the only actor qualified for Tigger and Pooh; having performed for both nearly 30 years, imagining anyone else in either role is darn near unimaginable. Then, there’s Garrett’s spot on spin as Eeyore. The actor’s distinct vocal intonation clearly doesn’t settle for the standard; even if it couldn’t compare to the classic touch of Peter Cullen, he still rises to give the down-in-the-dumps donkey an added lease into history. Not to mention, he’s granted many of the stronger one-liners throughout the picture. He is instantly relatable, viewers will fall for his shenanigans, there is more than just the monotone. Far more.
If the film does experience some minor challenges in terms of maintaining its emotional ballast, and it does, it won’t necessarily hurt its chances of ending with a smile, and possibly a tear. But yes, Robin’s core principles hold on to a slight lack of original flair; as said at the top, there’s much to the plot that we haven’t already seen before, a formula of sorts that is mightily effective. A few minor stumbles here and there, yet it just won’t be enough to derail an otherwise poignant, imperfect viewing experience. Its familiarity will seem quite apparent right from the first few minutes, by way of minimalist book illustrations close to Milne and Shephard’s concepts (another element I wish to had seen more of). If you adore these characters, the same way we all did growing up, its clear time constraints, or lack of balance between the lead’s struggles and the joy of seeing a fresh perspective on the 100 Acre Wood, may frustrate some but leave everyone else with a warm feeling inside. Needless to say, I was transfixed, at times giggling, other times just deeply focused on the relationships posed. It felt like I was back to a childlike state; cozy, peaceful, solemn. So even if the methodically flat mechanics used to keep the action moving, by which there’s not much, its positives still outweigh any apparent flaws in the system it runs by.
Forster, of course, lives for the fantasy realm, even when he aims not to take a traditional approach (ex: World War Z). He knows a good story when he sees it on paper, and always makes the loudest attempt possible to tell it. Never mind the five warm bodies needed to get those paper pages in the director’s hands. He still manages to make the most of a tricky sticky wicket, and given there were plush animals involved in the shooting, his meticulous hands-on approach is beyond appreciated in the long run, only deepening the likely bond between human and bear. Granted, I had many doubts over whether the film could maintain that same amount of pure joyous glee spotted in its only pre-release trailer. I can report back Mr. Forster was easily the right choice to take on the challenge, joined alongside DoP Matthias Koenigweiser (Forster’s last film, All I See is You), responsible for an unexpectedly subtle phase-in/phase-out of darkness and bright spirits with little changes in light. Jon Brion and Geoff Zanelli also step up to contribute a musical score that won’t earn any awards, but ever so surprisingly gives a gut punch of its own, considering they were stepping in for the late, great Jóhann Jóhannsson. Not quite a loving tribute, as it is more a doting solidifier of many a loveable scene without being too intense. And of course, there’s time for a pair of original songs from Disney legend and Oscar-winner Richard Sherman (Mary Poppins, among countless others); yet they’re saved for the very tail-end, with a rather bizarre end credits sequence that can only be seen to fully understand, so don’t plan on exiting the theater right away.
Of course, there’s no shame in proclaiming my bias while saying how much I loved Christopher Robin. I am a proud, often humble Disney geek, and I was sure I’d be won over in some capacity; given how deeply the studio would go into their past to create meaningful live-action works nowadays, I did fear a slight overkill. Thankfully, we’re spared a total misfire, and left with something pure, simple, bolstered by smiles, and is nothing but true family fun. Any concerns that the well is running dry and ideas are running short can be pushed aside to allow the whole family (I do hope for all quadrants to come out in fullest force in support) to just enjoy. But also, do be mindful of any other films one may be reminded of; whichever they are, they’re just as valid as the attraction one just paid for. Separate yourself from the distractions, and be ready to dive into a wonderfully delightful late-summer gem that should be experienced on the big screen for best effect. And if you do cry a little, rest assured I won’t judge. (B+)
Christopher Robin opens in most area theaters today; rated PG for some action; 103 minutes.
