Pixar films are like pop songs. They’re made for mass appeal. They’re formulaic. They’re engineered to be instantly memorable. They cover familiar, accessible themes and ideas. They tend to draw from the zeitgeist rather than add to it. They are simply… simple.
These are not complaints about Pixar — or pop, for that matter. Yes, pop songs can be bland, irritating, dumb, and melodramatic. And they can be exciting, inviting, brilliant, and affective. Two songs using the same formula — intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, outro — can radically differ in sound, subject, mood, and (indeed) quality. Pixar makes, one could say, excellent pop movies.
Few studios today have a batting average like Pixar’s. Their twenty-fourth feature, Luca, is their latest home run. Obviously, the army of talented writers, artists, voice actors, and animators deserve praise. But the film is clearly first-time feature director Enrico Casarosa’s baby: it’s a coming-of-age story based on his youth in Italy, and his influences include legendary Italian director Federico Fellini and anime icon Hayao Miyazaki.
Luca (Jacob Tremblay), a young sea monster living under the sea, yearns to see above the water’s surface at what lies elsewhere. But his overprotective parents, Daniela (Maya Rudolph) and Lorenzo (Jim Gaffigan), warn him never to leave the ocean. Luca’s curiosity leads him to another young sea monster, the rebellious Alberto (Jack Dylan Grazer), who teaches him that sea monsters, on land, transform into humans. After Luca’s hilarious first moments above water, they become friends, and they run (or swim) away to the town of Portorosso to pursue travel and adventure.
By this point, the film’s themes — including curiosity, growing up, envy, and belonging — are clear, and they’re nothing revolutionary. What’s clearer, however, is that it’s gorgeous: Pixar’s most aesthetically distinctive film to date. Characters’ movements are more exaggerated, and they look almost two-dimensional — clearly inspired by traditional cartoons. The environments are comparatively photorealistic, yet still fit for the characters. Its score is quintessentially Italian and includes several Italian opera songs.
And Luca’s cinematography reinforces its themes. The camera’s movement, placement, and framing evoke childlike wonder and excitement. The lighting assists the camera in this regard while remaining appropriate for each location and setting. These elements can be seen most easily in the beautiful dream sequences, but they’re always present.
Luca and Alberto are instantly memorable and lovable characters, with their charming catchphrases (“Silenzio Bruno!”) and naïve optimism. In Portorosso, more great characters emerge. Luca and Roberto meet their third musketeer, the redhead Giulia (Emma Berman), and their de Winter, the jackass Ercole (Saverio Raimondo) — rivals in the Portorosso Cup triathlon (swimming, pasta-eating, and biking). Luca and Roberto agree to help Giulia defeat Ercole in the Cup, but they must do so without revealing their monstrous secret — and while Luca’s parents try to find him.
Anybody familiar with children’s movies knows how this story will pan out. And they won’t mind. Luca is peak Pixar, supplementing their classic storytelling formula with endearing characters and a truly standout aesthetic. Magnifico!
