Greatest Hits: Jux reviews "How to Train Your Dragon"
★★★★☆
You've arrived hours beforehand. You've triple-checked your tickets. You've stood in line to get a spot right in front of the stage. You've waited in a close-pressed crowd of strangers, waited through sound-check and roadies poking at the microphones and tech people mumbling on walkie-talkies to other tech people. And finally, finally the band walks out onto the stage, and the lights blaze to life, and the speakers wail and it rocks your brains out. This final step, the step that makes it all worthwhile, is accomplished by a simple formula: play the songs we know.
How To Train Your Dragon doesn't try anything original. There were no surprises in this film, no twists, no "new material". The voice acting was exactly-on, (nicest surprise: Gerard Butler! King Leonidas makes a great viking. Who knew?) the animation was charming (viewers will notice an obvious parentage from the directors, who also headed Lilo & Stitch), the funny parts were funny and the tense parts were tense. As an added bonus, the 3-D glasses made everyone in the audience look just like Buddy Holly. The insightfulness of the film actually comes from it's dedication to excellence within formula, and a callous disregard for source material.
I have never read How to Train Your Dragon, but I'm not sure the makers of this film did either. The two plots diverge from the first scene, and by the end of the film could probably not even see each other with a good telescope. The choice, one that I'm sure has enraged dedicated fans, could not have made me happier. Books and films are different mediums, and the things that make one successful may hinder the other. A Series of Unfortunate Events is an excellent example - the formula works perfectly well as a series of short novels for youth. As a movie, the director's dedication to the pattern was wholly unsatisfying. This stems twofold: from the relative ease of writing a series of books, as opposed to producing a series of movies, and the limited interest audiences have in sitting and being presented a story as opposed to turning pages and becoming engaged with it. How To Train Your Dragon is a film dedicated to success as a film, and achieves it.
It doesn't have the heart of WALL·E; it lacks the fearlessness of Advent Children; it isn't even packed full of voice talent we know. It doesn't matter at all. How to Train Your Dragon is nothing less than a highly enjoyable 'greatest hits' concert. When the fog machines are finally turned off, and the last encore is over, and you leave the stadium with your ears still ringing, you will feel full. Turn to your friends and knowingly nod; your money was well-spent.
- Jux
You've arrived hours beforehand. You've triple-checked your tickets. You've stood in line to get a spot right in front of the stage. You've waited in a close-pressed crowd of strangers, waited through sound-check and roadies poking at the microphones and tech people mumbling on walkie-talkies to other tech people. And finally, finally the band walks out onto the stage, and the lights blaze to life, and the speakers wail and it rocks your brains out. This final step, the step that makes it all worthwhile, is accomplished by a simple formula: play the songs we know.
How To Train Your Dragon doesn't try anything original. There were no surprises in this film, no twists, no "new material". The voice acting was exactly-on, (nicest surprise: Gerard Butler! King Leonidas makes a great viking. Who knew?) the animation was charming (viewers will notice an obvious parentage from the directors, who also headed Lilo & Stitch), the funny parts were funny and the tense parts were tense. As an added bonus, the 3-D glasses made everyone in the audience look just like Buddy Holly. The insightfulness of the film actually comes from it's dedication to excellence within formula, and a callous disregard for source material.
I have never read How to Train Your Dragon, but I'm not sure the makers of this film did either. The two plots diverge from the first scene, and by the end of the film could probably not even see each other with a good telescope. The choice, one that I'm sure has enraged dedicated fans, could not have made me happier. Books and films are different mediums, and the things that make one successful may hinder the other. A Series of Unfortunate Events is an excellent example - the formula works perfectly well as a series of short novels for youth. As a movie, the director's dedication to the pattern was wholly unsatisfying. This stems twofold: from the relative ease of writing a series of books, as opposed to producing a series of movies, and the limited interest audiences have in sitting and being presented a story as opposed to turning pages and becoming engaged with it. How To Train Your Dragon is a film dedicated to success as a film, and achieves it.
It doesn't have the heart of WALL·E; it lacks the fearlessness of Advent Children; it isn't even packed full of voice talent we know. It doesn't matter at all. How to Train Your Dragon is nothing less than a highly enjoyable 'greatest hits' concert. When the fog machines are finally turned off, and the last encore is over, and you leave the stadium with your ears still ringing, you will feel full. Turn to your friends and knowingly nod; your money was well-spent.
- Jux