In my bloggy world I like keep up a certain level of decorum. Throwing in three-plus syllable words I find in my thesaurus, needlessly sticking to the New York Times style guide, and always listing at least three things if ever I need to describe an idea are all tactics I use to keep readers taking me seriously. However, every once in awhile it is necessary to shed such formalities and let bare a more persoanl reaction. Ruminating on Stéphane Aubier and Vincent Patar’s A Town Called Panic has presented just such a time. I must speak honestly with you, and decorum just might not hold up for a film as silly as this.

I’m sorry, but I don’t get it. This film is oozing international buzz and everyone else seems to be on the inside of the Panic joke. Most notably it holds the title as the only feature-length stop-motion film selected for the Cannes Film Festival. Not since The Hangover have I felt like such an intellectual outsider. There is no question that A Town Called Panic is a fun film. It moves at about a mile a minute as our heroes, Cowboy, Indian and Horse, navigate a stop-motion world filled with toys found in every big kids toolbelt. Our three heroes go on a zany adventure when someone starts stealing their house night after night, no matter how many times they rebuild. Always getting into trouble is the name of the game for these three. Read on…

Wes Anderson’s first film adaptation, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, based on Roald Dahl’s book of the same name, may be the director’s most fully realized piece to date. Witty, thoughtful and sharp as a tack, this little film is going to astonish audiences of all ages, and not for the usual reasons we say an animated film will impress. Written with gifted family dramatist Noah Baumbach, the film is about the growing pains we all experience at the various stages of life. It’s also about sentient rodents going to war with big business.

The movie starts off at a sprint, quickly acclimating the viewer to its quirky animation style. Going vintage, like any hipster should, Mr. Anderson and his team of animators opted to use stop motion puppets instead of the “cleaner,” more mainstream digital options. The same problem that befell puppeteer Willis O’Brien on 1933’s King Kong still exists today as the medium hasn’t changed all that much. Any time a puppeteer repositions a fur-covered animal between shots, the hair gets moved around and thus appears to wave around in the final cut piece, pullulating with every muscular motion. The characters move extremely fast and the camera whips around this tiny world. In something of a writerly coup, Mr. Anderson and Mr. Baumbach structure the script to match the quickened pace of the action. They have composed a heap of dialogue that cuts like a knife; for a second I thought perhaps Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond had penned this film, and that’s a hell of a compliment. Read on…

I’m sorry, but I am going to have to hike up my crotchity old man pants and whip my suspenders; it’s time to do a little ranting about the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS).

Recently, outgoing President Sid Ganis announced that next years Oscar ceremony will feature 10 Best Picture nominations instead of 5. This unprecedented (at least in 60 years) announcement was followed by a few lesser publicized changes. The rules for Best Original Song are now such that there may not even be an award every year and supplemental awards, such as the Thalberg or the Honorary Oscar, will be distributed at a separate event. It is great to see AMPAS blow the dust off of the arcane rule book they have been following for nearly a century, but other changes are needed. Like what, you may ask? Good thing you came to the candler blog.

Axe the Best Animated Feature Category, and Fast

Part of the thinking behind expanding the Best Pic pool is to give films that rarely make it into the running a fighting chance. Comedies, summer blockbusters and animated features are rarely nominated, but only one of those genres has been pushed out of the running completely. Instituted in 2001, with the first award going to Shrek, the Best Animated Feature award was meant to get gold into the hands of animated filmmakers whose work accounts for an incredible amount of box office grosses yet is rarely honored at the annual ceremony. Instead, it has pigeonholed all animated films into one giant lump that is out of the running of the Academy’s top honor.

Over the last decade, Hollywood and audiences have taken note of animation auteurs. So many people are required to make an animated film, the makers often get lost in the shuffle. However, Brad Bird has now become a marketable name, as have Andrew Stanton and John Lasseter. (These are all Pixar guys, I know, but hey, they’re the major studio) As films become more closely linked to specific names, they start to feel more like works of art rather than DVDs to keep the kids happy in the back seat. With a bigger Best Pic pool, there is no longer a need to push animators into a corner with this useless, offensive award. Read on…

The folks at Pixar are an eclectic group. Over the years they have moved on from their roles as technological pioneers to animation revolutionaries of sorts, trying to boldly bring the form back into maturity after it has long been relegated to the stuff of Saturday morning television. It is no surprise then that Up does everything in its power to subvert our preconceived notions of the animated film. The main character is neither young nor cuddly, the themes are complex and layered, and death is a very real possibility in the world of the film. Still, this is a Disney film so it hits most of the marketable requirements.

Up is the story of Carl Fredrickson, and elderly widower who decides to float his house to South America, fulfilling a wish he and his late wife have shared since childhood. After takeoff, a young boy scout named Russell is discovered as a stowaway and becomes Carl’s unwanted sidekick. The team makes it to their destination, running into some new friends: Kevin, a giant bird with a knack for trickery, and Doug, a cheerful dog equipped with a collar that allows him to speak. These new visitors set up a mad-cap adventure for the two city-dwellers, and we are invited along for the ride. Read on…

It has not gone unnoticed that Disney princesses have shared a skin tone for about 5 decades: white. There are exceptions to this rule, such as Jasmine and Pocahantas. Still, the animators at the Mouse House are looking to fill a noticeable gap in their royal equality this winter with The Princess and the Frog, the first film to feature a black princess.

There isn’t much to say as all we have to go on so far is this teaser trailer released yesterday. The internet is already aflame with arguments over the white prince. “Why no strong black man?” the internet is asking. Well, I’ll reserve judgement for the actual film. In the meantime, let’s take a look at this trailer.

Otherwise ho-hum, this preview really banks on the whole “first black princess” thing. After a quick restrospective of Disney’s most beloved (read: boffo) 2-dimensional films, an outline of the newest princess, Tiana, is drawn onto a blank parchment and then POW! fills in with color. While the presence of an African-American princess is groundbreaking in the Disney canon, I’m personally more excited to see an animated New Orleans French Quarter. I’m not positive, but this may be the most modern princess story Disney has attempted, set in America no less. Watch the trailer below and leave your thoughts in the comments.