Runtime: 2 hours, 10 minutes
Rating: PG
Director: Brad Bird
Quick Impressions:
Since we suffered no extreme calamities venturing out into the big, scary world to see The Avengers last weekend, my husband, daughter, and I decided to repeat the experiment and take in this week’s new release Tomorrowland.
We had a few more fiascos this time around—involving a freak rainstorm and a flying, exploding Coke—but we’re still glad we headed out to the theater. We all thoroughly enjoyed Tomorrowland (even my almost 33 week old son who kept kicking dramatically throughout the entire movie).
The Good:
The best thing about this movie is its concluding message. I’m not talking about the message it beats us over the head with. (That’s good, too. Not subtle, but good. Salient. Holds true as far as I can see.) Yes, yes, there’s a real epidemic of pessimism in our world today. Malthusian types have not only depressed us in the present, but they’ve stolen our future. Why should the present generation of children hope or dream about anything since we tell them over and over again every day that the world is already destroyed, their generation is reprehensible in every way, they’re all a bunch of apathetic losers, they’re murdering the polar bears every time they take a shower, and the human race is completely doomed beyond redemption? Why not embrace (and gleefully fetishize) the coming zombie apocalypse? My parents’ generation supposedly grew apathetic because they knew after high school, they were just going to get shipped off to Vietnam to die. This generation is told like basically every single day that the whole world will be destroyed soon, and there’s nothing they can do, and anyway, they wouldn’t do it because they’re all a bunch of selfish, entitled losers.
So I appreciate Tomorrowland’s earnest, impassioned attempt to turn back the clock, to encourage children of today to reclaim yesterday’s more appealing vision of a boundless future. Why shouldn’t we dream? We’ll never accomplish anything if we just wallow in our nightmares, and the solution to many of the world’s problems may honestly be as simple as a mass change of attitude. People brainwashed into believing that doom is certain (even if the idea is true) will never succeed in making the world a better place.
So yes. The “moral” that’s explicitly spelled out for us with all the brevity and subtlety of Emerson’s Self Reliance in the last big hero/villain showdown of the movie is good (despite being heavy-handed).
It’s an idea that really resonates with me, and I totally agree with it.
But what I find even more praiseworthy is the other message of the movie, the one presented with far greater subtlety, the idea the film leaves us with.
Most Hollywood movies (and popular books) lately push the idea of a hero who is special enough to save the world. We all want to be that hero, but of course, not all of us can be. Every little kid thinks he’s the hero—and then he grows up, gets beaten down by life, and becomes bitterly disillusioned and discouraged. (But not nearly as disillusioned and discouraged as his long-suffering mother played by Patricia Arquette.)
My point is, we all want to be the hero who saves the world. But that’s a child’s dream. Not all of us can be the most special person in the world with the greatest gifts who does the greatest good. But we can all look for the greatest good. We can all look for special, gifted people. We can appreciate the gifts of others. We can appreciate the beauty in the world. We can choose a path of optimism and hope and work to promote beauty and genius no matter when, no matter where we uncover it. Saving the world is a team effort, and the most important role belongs to the masses. Maybe we’re not the heroes, but we can find the heroes, support and embrace them. We can appreciate and advance the good qualities in others without being bent on finding total perfection in any one individual. We can promote fine qualities and brave and noble ideas wherever we find them.
George Clooney and Britt Robertson play highly captivating, charismatic, exceptional heroes in this film, but at the end of the movie, it is neither of them that we’re called to be like. The Tomorrowland envisioned by Hugh Laurie’s character began by recruiting only the most perfect specimens of excellence, but by the end of the film, the protagonists are looking for a different kind of hero.
The message to children seems to be this. Your vision is important. You are called to recognize and promote what is good in this world. You may have been told that you are simply a mindless automaton, but that is not true. Yes, you are one of many, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t matter. Forget the “programming” you get in school. Follow your original directive. Follow your heart and seek out what is best in this world. Ceaselessly promote the good. You matter, and your vision and efforts can make a difference.
Tomorrowland does have its flaws (possibly including its very strange structure and odd pacing), but it ends on a high note, leaving us with a message that is not only relevant and inspiring but in some ways, absolutely brilliant.
Aside from this fantastic message (brought to us by people who no doubt genuinely believe it—I mean, a creative team who work for Disney, people who actually make money from their art, probably have a pretty positive attitude about how great life can be), Tomorrowland is also enjoyable to watch because of the charisma and chemistry of its three leads.
Why George Clooney decided to star in a kids’ movie is beyond me. Is it because he got married? (My husband pointed out that he passionately believes in a number of causes and is quite a busy social activist/philanthropist, so possibly he strongly believes in the message of the movie.) In any event, Clooney is fantastic in this role. (Nothing about his character is subtle enough to get awards attention. This is a movie for children. It’s a different kind of acting. But still, he gives a very captivating performance.) His Frank Walker is both a realistic and resonant character, equal parts likable and pitiable. (And Thomas Robinson, the talented child actor who plays young Frank sparkles in the role as well. I don’t know if the two of them spent hours playing the mirror game or if it’s just a case of good casting or what, but they really do seem to be portraying the same individual.)
Britt Robertson is also fantastic as rebellious girl genius Casey Newton. (You watch and admire how Disney responds to the usual criticism that too many of its heroes are male. Pointedly this movie gives us a couple of very remarkable females, a magical little girl, and a female lead with an everyman quality despite her gifts. But there’s also a disillusioned former special little boy thrown into the mix just to make sure everyone in the audience is satisfied and able to relate.)
My favorite character by far is Athena, enchantingly played by Raffey Cassidy. Both the actress and her character are winningly brilliant—so much life, so much energy, such sparkle. I’ve heard that this movie contains all kinds of subtle nods to Disney stuff, but the only thing I really noticed (other than the really cool incorporation of the actual origins of It’s a Small World) is that Athena kind of looks like Wendy from Peter Pan. The character also definitely has a very Peter Panny vibe about her, so perhaps that’s intentional. (I guess if you consider Star Wars Disney, then we get a great moment with Han Solo in carbonite, too. And there are also lots and lots of visual allusions to Disneyland/Disney World.)
Hugh Laurie is also good as Nix (even though the character is…um…a bit one-dimensional and needlessly mysterious as written. That’s not the actor’s fault.)
The supporting cast is good, too, but it’s really the chemistry and presence of these four that keeps us eagerly watching the film.
It’s a good thing they’re so appealing, too, because the structure of the film is very unusual. Initially, I felt that the pacing was off. Then I realized, It’s more than just a pacing problem. It’s the actual structure. But then the longer I watched, the more I began thinking, Actually, maybe this isn’t a problem at all. It’s probably deliberate. Perhaps it’s a strength.
For sure, the structure reflects the film’s themes. Tomorrowland is all about an imagined future that never arrives. Accordingly, the movie is about 85 percent anticipation. For nearly two hours, we watch and wait for something to happen. We know something is coming. We wait for the other shoe to drop. We know it’s coming. We know it’s coming. But not yet. We go and go and go. We never get there. We anticipate and anticipate, but still the time is not yet. We always pursue, never arrive. It’s insane really! Most movies are not like this. The structure is not at all formulaic and is, in fact, highly unorthodox.
(It’s like watching a TV series designed to baffle you for years, like The Fugitive or…I know, Lost! Now I’m laughing because as I write this review my parents are watching Lost for the first time on Netflix. My mother was just complaining ten seconds ago about how she sometimes can’t stand to watch more but still feels bizarrely compelled to keep watching. She feels like the resolution is being withheld, like nothing will ever be explained. It’s so funny because I was already expressing these thoughts about Tomorrowland when she started expressing similar thoughts about Lost, and Damon Lindelof wrote both projects.)
My daughter was a little stressed out by the tension of some early scenes, but I kept thinking, Surely the movie will be less stressful once she gets to Tomorrowland. Then later I realized, They won’t have much time left by the time we get to Tomorrowland. Late in the film, I began to wonder, Hold on, are they ever even going to Tomorrowland?
Very minor spoiler: They do eventually go to Tomorrowland.
But seriously, after a while, I could envision a potentially successful version of the film in which Tomorrowland turns out not even to exist at all.
This seems like a weakness of the film in that it makes watching it kind of difficult and exasperating. (At the same time, though, the action is relentless, so we’re always on the edge of our seats.) But it’s hard to call it a weakness of the screenplay because it so perfectly mirrors the central thematic concerns of the story.
Best Scene:
I love Frank’s relationship with Athena. Raffey Cassidy and Thomas Robinson have wonderful chemistry, and Cassidy’s last big scene with George Clooney is my favorite in the film.
Another great moment, though, is the montage of Casey’s typical school day. I felt like this so accurately reflects the thrust of most children’s entertainment/education when it comes to issues that involve the future. Paired with the last big argument between Frank and Nix, this scene would make an excellent lesson plan. Pay attention, junior high/high school teachers. If you’re looking for a great film to introduce Utopian/Dystopian literature, then Tomorrowland is the classroom aide for you!
Best Scene Visually:
Visually, the moving is stunning and compelling. I love the way the pin works. That’s what hooked me on the preview and made me want to see Tomorrowland in the first place. I adore the part when she unwittingly tumbles down the stairs.
The look of Tomorrowland itself is fantastic (especially because it really reminds you of Disneyland and makes you wish you were in Disneyland. My husband and I both enjoyed that aspect, and doubtless it will pay off for Disney, as well.)
If you ask me, what looks the coolest are those diving pools in the recruitment video.
Best Action Sequence:
One of the chase scenes with Athena seems like a deliberate callback to Terminator 2. (If it’s not a tongue-in-cheek homage, then it’s outright plagiarism, but I must assume that they’re doing it to be funny.)
The last big action sequence—involving the portal and the beach—is probably the best. But the movie is full of nonstop action that should definitely appeal to older kids. I’m sure my stepson would have loved it, but he wasn’t with us this weekend. My daughter occasionally got distressed, but she still wanted to keep watching. At the end, she proclaimed triumphantly, “That was so awesome!” (Her favorite scene involved Casey and a bat.)
The Negatives:
On a symbolic level, I totally understand what’s going on with Hugh Laurie’s character, and why and how Tomorrowland has undergone such dramatic changes since Frank left. (Like I said, this film would be useful classroom fare when discussing Utopian/Dystopian literature.)
But on the narrative level, this all makes much less sense. Explaining exactly what I mean in any appropriate detail is difficult without giving spoilers, but I’ll try. Let’s go with a hypothetical situation that could happen in the real world at any time. Suppose seismologists discover that “the big one” is coming sometime in the next ten years. Within the decade, Southern California will definitely get quaked off the side of the continental United States and drift away into the remote depths of the ocean.
While that would be alarming news in California (despite its potential to provide some drought relief), no doubt the good people of New York could continue their lives with little disruption. Some people might want to do something to help California, but the idea that the mayor of New York might take a, “Well, it’s not happening here, so it’s not our problem” approach is not unthinkable.
But if all of the leaders of New York chose to turn their backs on California and kick the handful of ardent “Save California” activists out of the city, wouldn’t business as usual continue in New York? So, then, if some frantic people from California visited New York nine years and eleven months later, why would they find the city looking rundown and deserted? Imagine this, the subway is running, but the tunnels themselves have fallen into shameful disrepair. And the only person who seems to live in New York now is the mayor. Does that make any sense? It doesn’t to me.
I feel like something similar is going on in this movie. We really never learn enough about Tomorrowland and how it runs and who is really in charge and how Nix came to such a position of power.
The movie makes an excellent, salient—and incredibly heavy-handed but since it’s for children, I’ll forgive it—ideological point. And as a metaphor (even a visual metaphor), its last act is phenomenal. It’s great. It totally gets its point across. (If you don’t get it, you probably also were unable to pass high school English despite reading the books.) But in terms of telling a story, the limited information that we’re given falls painfully short, and there’s just an awful lot indulgent audience members are forced to overlook. We just have to accept the present situation and follow the thrust of the action without asking too many questions about how on earth such a situation developed. We basically have to ignore practicality and context and let the movie’s narrative failings slide if we want to enjoy it for what it is.
In the end, I’m okay with that. (In fact, considering Damon Lindelof worked on the screenplay, the film is remarkably coherent. We should count our blessings.) But I kind of wish curious audience members could buy some kind of tie-in book that explained the situation in Tomorrowland in greater detail. It would be nice to see it fleshed out as a real place instead of just a convenient illustration of abstract principles.
That’s really the only problem I have with the movie. (Granted, it’s kind of a big problem, but oddly, its very enormity almost makes it easier to overlook. Kindly disposed viewers can compartmentalize such issues and focus on what does work instead.)
Like most live action Disney movies, this one seems to be getting mixed reviews, and without having actually read any of the negative reviews, I can imagine aspects of the film that others might find off-putting easily enough.
For one thing, as I mentioned earlier, the pacing/structure of the film is extremely odd. While we watch Tomorrowland, we’re forced into an uncomfortable state of perpetual anticipation. We’re never at the good part yet. We’re always waiting to get there. At one point, I realized, Good grief, by the time we ever get anywhere, surely there won’t be time left to do anything significant there!
That’s another thing. This movie is clearly targeted at children. It’s a Disney movie about Disneyland. It’s rated PG. And yet it’s over two hours long! That is long! (I didn’t really mind, but the length seems unusual in a film that is clearly targeted at kids. Now granted, Disney’s live action movies are frequently ridiculously long—like the later Pirates movies and The Lone Ranger—but maybe that’s why they keep flopping.) Since I liked the movie, its runtime was not a huge issue for me, but others may feel differently.
Ordinarily, I find heavy-handed moralizing unbearably off-putting, too. (It’s just a personal preference thing. I’m not so big on even the best allegory, but allegory artlessly delivered drives me absolutely crazy.) For some reason, Tomorrowland works for me, but I don’t know why. It’s a utopian/dystopian allegorical fairy tale that beats you over the head with its moral with the unbridled, excessive intensity of a teenager attacking an already motionless automaton with George Clooney’s baseball bat. (Given my own aesthetic preferences, I should hate it, but I don’t.)
Still I can recognize that anyone expecting a product that’s sophisticated and subtle and aimed at an audience of discerning adult intellectuals is going to be bitterly disappointed with this film and find its conclusion gratingly didactic. (I honestly get annoyed when adult reviewers approach children’s movies with such misguided expectations and savagely rip them to shreds. If you ask me, there are tons of reviewers of all media who just fail to “get” children’s entertainment.) But I can’t deny that the movie is incredibly heavy-handed and lacking in subtlety. If you agree with its message (like my husband and I do), then you’re likely to be indulgent. But if you disagree, why should you be nice about it?
And then of course, there’s the elephant in the room—and that’s the critic in the auditorium who has a horror of a mouse (I’m thinking of one famous mouse in particular). Someone who finds capitalism horrifying and Disney parks the greatest abomination of the Western World is bound to recoil in horror at all of the blatant merchandising tie-ins in this film. The namesake of a portion of Disneyland/Magic Kingdom, Tomorrowland is blatantly, unabashedly, whole-heartedly one big commercial for Disney parks.
Real life Tomorrowland (at least the California version) could definitely use a major revamp, and this movie seems to present all kinds of tantalizing ideas for amusement park rides and entertainment experiences. If the movie succeeds, wow will it breathe new life into the tired Tomorrowland! Even if the film doesn’t find as enthusiastic an audience as Disney hopes, it’s bound to be a victory for the company’s massive pin-trading empire. (If you don’t know about pin-trading, then you probably haven’t been to a Disney park in the past ten years. It’s a huge phenomenon. Plan a trip to either coast. Book through Disney, and they’ll send you a lanyard, and soon enough you’ll see what I mean.)
All of this commercialism should probably disgust me, but I really love Disneyland, so it just looks really smart to me. For quite a while now, Tomorrowland has been rebranded by Disney as yesterday’s vision of tomorrow. This film really sells that concept and also makes it possible for Disney to make such a vision relevant again to today’s youth. But some people are going to complain that this is like watching a two-hour infomercial, and they aren’t exactly wrong. (It’s just that it’s such an earnest, idealistic infomercial. I sincerely believe that the creative team behind this film is selling Disneyland because they believe in an idea that they think Disneyland can/should/did once/does represent.) Some people are really disillusioned with Disney, but not everyone. Kids dream of growing up to work there as artists, animators, imagineers, and the ones who succeed probably honestly believe that with determination, you can make your vision a reality. (It’s working out for them, after all. With a little bit of pixie dust, all of your dreams can come true. They’re artists selling a concept in which they actually believe.)
Overall:
The three of us really liked Tomorrowland. My six-year-old found the first part intense, but she really liked “the last two parts.” (Pinning down exactly which parts she means is tricky. Basically all the scenes she enjoyed, she describes as being included in these elusive “last two parts,” but some of these scenes occur fairly early in the film.)
George Clooney, Britt Robertson, and especially Raffey Cassidy light up the screen and keep us watching eagerly, but the movie also has excellent visuals, relentless action, and a genuinely thoughtful, compelling, relevant message. It’s heavy handed for sure, and the whole movie is like one big commercial for Disneyland, but since I love Disneyland, I didn’t mind that at all. Live action Disney films can be very hit or miss, but for my husband and me, this one hit in a big way. No, it’s not subtle, but it still has a great message and a number of highly compelling scenes.
Plus at the end, it’s like you actually get to spend a few minutes in Disneyland. That’s fun, right?