‘Wreck-It Ralph’

Four stars

Starring (voices): John C. Reilly, Sarah Silverman, Jane Lynch, Jack McBrayer, Alan Tudyk, Mindy Kaling

Rating: PG, for kid-level rude humor and mild action/violence

I haven’t had this much fun since 1988’s “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” blended classic Disney and Warner Bros. cartoon characters in a similarly madcap adventure.

“Wreck-It Ralph,” like numerous fantasies before it, concerns the activities of playthings after pesky humans have gone to bed (or otherwise departed the scene). Pixar owns this sub-genre most recently, with its “Toy Story” franchise, but the concept is much older, dating back to Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Ballet” and Victor Herbert’s 1903 musical, “Babes in Toyland.” Both have been staged and filmed many, many times.

To my knowledge, “Wreck-It Ralph” is the first such storyline set in the world of arcade gaming. It boasts a sharp script by Jennifer Lee and Phil Johnston, the latter responsible for writing last year’s delightful “Cedar Rapids.” Most crucially — and as is the case with the “Toy Story” films — “Wreck-It Ralph” takes place in a colorful world that is laden with goofy characters, but includes plenty of droll and clever dialogue.

The result: It will delight both youngsters and their parents, and the latter also will recognize all sorts of inside jokes and familiar references.

The action unfolds at Litwak’s Family Fun Center & Arcade, where kids reserve next-play status by lining up their quarters. Game choices include everything from the cutesy-poo, animé-flavored Sugar Rush, where players race adorable girl avatars through a track bordered by gumdrops, cotton candy and all manner of sweet stuff; to the hyper-realistic, first-person shooter thrills of Hero’s Duty, a nightmarish story line right out of “Starship Troopers,” where a combat platoon battles scary cy-bugs that threaten to annihilate the universe.

Somewhere in between is the retro appeal of Fix-It Felix Jr., a 1980s game mildly reminiscent of Nintendo’s original Mario Bros. (whose characters, perhaps tellingly, are not in this film). The game’s villain, Wreck-It Ralph, is a 643-pound man monster who is determined to destroy the apartment building that the game’s Nicelanders call home. Players (in our real world) control plucky little Felix, whose magic hammer repairs all the damage. Successfully completing the level means that Ralph gets tossed into a nearby mud puddle.

Unhappily, Ralph (voiced by John C. Reilly) is a sensitive soul, and has grown tired of always being the bad guy, and of living his off-duty hours alone in a brick pile. He even joins a support group, Bad-Anon, where familiar villains from various games (Street Fighter, Altered Beasts) share their tales in sessions hosted by Clyde, the orange ghost from Pac-Man.

The gimmick here is that — after hours, when the arcade is closed — these characters both enjoy the companionship of their regular colleagues, and can visit other games via the central power strip hub known as Game Central Station. The latter also has become the sole refuge of homeless characters, such as the weird little critters from Q*bert, whose games have been unplugged.

With his uncomplicated approach to life — when in doubt, break stuff — Ralph decides that earning a game medal would make him a more desirable after-hours guest with the Nicelanders. He therefore pays a visit to Hero’s Duty, and immediately runs afoul of Sgt. Tamora Jean Calhoun (Jane Lynch), the baddest space marine in all of gamedom. One klutzy skirmish later, Ralph crash-lands a hijacked spaceship into the frosting-laden, 1990s-style cart-racing realm of Sugar Rush.

Now stuck in a realm where everything is too soft to be pulverized, Ralph runs into scrappy Vanellope von Schweetz (Sarah Silverman), a pixelating programming “mistake” who often fuzzes out in an excited electronic glitch. Like Ralph, Vanellope is a misfit who desperately wants to be accepted by the other characters in her game; alas, this realm’s King Candy (Alan Tudyk, doing a perfect imitation of the long-gone Ed Wynn) and rival racer Taffyta Muttonfudge (Mindy Kaling) want nothing to do with her.

All this chaos is well orchestrated by director Rich Moore, a longtime veteran of TV’s “The Simpsons” and “Futurama.” Animation is all about timing, and Moore and editor William J. Caparella deftly alter their game, depending on setting. Time spent in Hero’s Duty has the frantic, scary intensity of a horror film, while events in Sugar Rush display the soft edges of Smurf and Care Bear cartoons … a sickly sweet atmosphere that Vanellope mercilessly lampoons, in Silverman’s hilariously snarky tones.

Indeed, the voice talent is sensational throughout. Silverman is simply perfect as the impish little Vanellope, but Lynch blows everybody off the screen. Lee and Johnston give Sgt. Calhoun the same sort of waspishly caustic dialogue that has made her such a standout on TV’s “Glee,” and the fit is perfect; we expect a bug-hunting soldier to behave in such hard-bitten fashion.

Reilly is appropriately woeful as the forever put-upon Ralph. Although most frequently known for slapstick comic turns, we must remember that Reilly snagged a well-earned Academy Award nomination as the cuckolded Amos Hart in “Chicago.” That character’s solo lament, “Mr. Cellophane,” could apply equally to poor Ralph here; Reilly delivers just the right blend of angst, wounded pride and — eventually — heroic determination.

Jack McBrayer, well known as NBC page Kenneth on TV’s “30 Rock,” is a stitch as Ralph’s goody-two-shoes nemesis, Fix-It Felix. As is the case with Kenneth on “30 Rock,” McBrayer gives Felix an overstated wholesomeness that never wavers, no matter what the danger (or insult).

The animation style cleverly varies, depending on game and activity. During arcade hours, Ralph, Felix and the Nicelanders are depicted with the primitive, 8-bit pixelation typical of 1980s games; during down time, their animated selves are more rounded and dimensional … but the Nicelanders still walk with jerky staccato movements and turn at perfect 90-degree angles.

The sight gags and one-liners frequently are to die for. Pretty much everything Lynch says is side-splitting, but you’ll also laugh over quick bits such as King Candy’s Oreo cookie guards, who assemble outside their castle in a scene lifted right out of 1939’s “The Wizard of Oz,” complete with ominous chanting (albeit with slightly different words!).

Veteran gamers also will chuckle when King Candy enters a secret vault by hitting a button sequence well remembered as the infamous “Konami code” that gave players power-ups and unlimited lives in all sorts of video games.

And, needless to say, it’s fun to see familiar characters such as Sonic the Hedgehog, Frogger, Dig Dug, Peter Pepper, Root Beer Tapper and cute li’l Q*Bert, the latter able to “talk” only in punctuation marks.

Composer Henry Jackman wraps everything up with a dynamic orchestral score that riffs many of the classic sounds and themes from much-loved arcade games.

The smart script, well-cast vocal talent and rich animation notwithstanding, “Wreck-It Ralph” gets most of its appeal from the excellent use of its clever premise. In that respect, it follows the long-successful Pixar model, and no surprise: John Lasseter serves here as executive producer.

Like a great arcade game, “Wreck-It Ralph” will encourage repeat business; I predict a long and happy run, both in theaters and (later) in home libraries.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com

“Hotel Transylvania”

Four stars

Starring (voices only): Adam Sandler, Andy Samberg, Selena Gomez, Kevin James, Fran Drescher, Steve Buscemi, Molly Shannon, David Spade, CeeLo Green, Jon Lovitz

Rating: PG, for mild rude humor and some scary images

“Hotel Transylvania” is generously laden with similar knee-slappers, many piling one atop the next in the rat-a-tat-tat manner of a classic Road Runner cartoon. But this is no seven-minute short; director Genndy Tartakovsky and editor Catherine Apple successfully maintain an exhilarating pace without sacrificing the character elements necessary to hold our interest.

It’s an impressive feat, no less so when considering the involvement of five credited writers: Peter Baynham, Robert Smigel, Todd Durham, Dan Hageman and Kevin Hageman. That many cooks generally spoil the magic potion, but in this case, everybody’s sensibilities mesh nicely. The result is a light-hearted spoof of familiar movie monster traditions, blended with wry takes on young love and an unusually extreme generation gap.

Long, long ago, in a haunted forest far, far away, Dracula (voiced by Adam Sandler) constructed a lavish “five-stake resort” that he dubbed Hotel Transylvania: a posh refuge for monsters and their families to vacation, far from curious — and potentially dangerous — eyes. As has become typical of our 21st century re-evaluations of fantasy creatures, these poor monsters are the world’s maligned and misunderstood, hunted and killed by the humans who fear and hate them.

Bearing that last thought in mind, Dracula’s massive sanctuary also has been designed as a place where his daughter, Mavis (Selena Gomez), can grow up safely. Dracula has particular reason for this parental concern; a century and change ago, his beloved wife — Mavis’ mother — was killed by just such a human mob.

But Mavis is celebrating her 118th birthday, and — just like the tower-bound Rapunzel, in 2010’s “Tangled” — she yearns to explore and experience the outside world. Until now, Dracula has managed to delay her desire, in part through the distraction of ever more elaborate birthday parties.

This one is destined to be no exception, with a guest list that includes Frankenstein (Kevin James) and his brassy wife, Eunice (Fran Drescher); Wayne (Steve Buscemi) and Wanda (Molly Shannon), a couple of loving werewolves who have produced litter after litter of pups; Griffin, the Invisible Man (David Spade); Murray (CeeLo Green), a boisterous, jive-talking mummy; and Quasimodo (Jon Lovitz), the hotel’s temperamental head chef, never seen without his loyal rat assistant, Esmeralda.

But those are only the front-and-center characters; the guest list also includes riffs on every creature known from myth and cinema, from the gelatinous Blob and the Creature from the Black Lagoon, to the multi-headed Cerberus, the Abominable Snowman, an underwater octopoid beast so huge that we never see more than a tentacle or two, and the assorted witch maids, headless drivers, mariachi skeletons, limb-challenged zombies and haunted suits of armor that serve as the hotel staff.

Not that it makes a difference, despite Mavis’ fondness for all these weird uncles and aunts. Holding her father to a promise he made years ago, she demands that he allow her to spread her (bat) wings.

As it happens, though, her desire for travel gets put on hold with the unexpected arrival of one last guest: an energetic, way-cool motormouth dude named Jonathan (Andy Samberg), who can shred a guitar or a skateboard with equal élan. Jonathan has been backpacking his way across Europe, and with the insatiable curiosity of any 21-year-old, he naturally follows up on an oft-heard rumor about a mysteriously spooky castle hidden deep within the Transylvanian woods.

But Jonathan’s presence is a catastrophe for Dracula, who has long guaranteed his premises to be human-free. Concealing Jonathan’s healthy pink complexion isn’t difficult; a bit of make-up and an electrified hairstyle later, the kid is introduced to everybody as Johnnystein, Frankenstein’s supposed cousin (actually, the cousin of the fellow who, ah, supplied one of Frankie’s arms).

But Dracula has a much tougher time dealing with the luminescent goo-goo eyes that suddenly flash between Jonathan and Mavis: love at first sight.

What’s an undead dad to do?

Sandler makes a wonderfully pompous vampire, clearly regarded as the big cheese by all his supernatural friends and guests, but helpless in the face of his daughter’s stricken, disappointed expressions. Sandler gives his black-caped character a wide range of moods and emotions, from unexpected gentleness — always played against a given scene’s apparently ominous mood — to breath-catching flashes of blood-curdling fury. Based on the actor’s track record with recent dim-bulb comedies, I think he’s much better as unseen voice talent.

Samberg’s Jonathan is a stitch. It’s funny enough when this hyper-enthusiastic sorta-slacker first assumes that he has stumbled into some sort of fan gathering, with folks sporting really rad costumes; it’s positively side-splitting when the poor guy realizes that he’s surrounded by (gulp) actual, rotted-flesh-and-putrefied-blood creatures of the night.

Until he (literally) bumps into Mavis, of course. No warm-blooded guy could resist a girl this cute … even if she does have fangs.

Gomez successfully navigates Mavis’ many moods, ensuring that her typically teenage character is headstrong but not demanding, mildly self-centered but never unpleasantly selfish. Mavis isn’t merely the apple of her father’s eye — a weakness she cheerfully exploits to her advantage — she’s also adored by all who visit the castle. And, really, we can’t argue with her desire to escape the constricting confines of her father’s enveloping cloak … no matter how noble his intentions.

Buscemi is a hoot as a beaten-down father never able to hide from his bratty brood, and James gives Frankenstein an intriguing reading as a sort of blue-collar working stiff. Lovitz initially makes Quasimodo an overly solicitous toady, but this character turns menacing in the final act.

Mark Mothersbaugh contributes a vigorous orchestral score, punctuated at key moments by energetic pop anthems such as a reworked cover of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” — here retitled “Call Me Mavy” — and a climactic rap duel involving Dracula, Jonathan and Mavis, called “Problem (The Monster Remix).” Cute stuff.

You’re well advised to spring for the film’s 3D format, which lends additional depth and dimension to bat flights and pell-mell pursuits through the castle’s darkened passages. The 3D “money sequence,” however, is a ballroom duel of sorts between Dracula and Jonathan, with floating tables as game pieces. This has nothing to do with the story, and could be viewed as a time-filling distraction … were it not so giddily exhilarating.

I hope “Hotel Transylvania” hangs around for at least a month, because it’ll be perfect family viewing for the night before Halloween.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com

‘Ice Age: Continental Drift’

Four stars

Starring (voices only): Ray Romano, Denis Leary, John Leguizamo, Queen Latifah, Peter Dinklage, Jennifer Lopez, Keke Palmer, Josh Gad, Seann William Scott and Josh Peck

Rating: PG, for action/peril and mild rude humor

Chris Wedge deserves a great deal of credit.

During the decade since he co-directed “Ice Age,” back in 2002, the series has generated three sequels, each of which has been as fresh, funny and visually enchanting as the first film.

DreamWorks’ “Shrek” series (as one other example) hasn’t been nearly as consistent, with the same number of installments; Wedge, his Blue Sky Studios colleagues and their “sub-zero heroes” have scored runs with every turn at bat.

In no small measure, this is because Wedge and his rotating teams of scripters understand the importance of story. Each new film doesn’t feel like a box office-driven remake of the same basic plot elements, as often happens with lesser sequels; the “Ice Age” entries build on each other, forming distinct chapters of a much broader narrative whose limits have yet to be reached.

Plus, Blue Sky’s films are funny. Very funny.

And more than a little subversive.

As has been true with each “Ice Age” installment, the acorn-seeking Scrat’s hilarious escapades serve as “bumpers” between significant events in the central narrative experienced by an ever-expanding cast of major characters.

Scrat’s attempt to bury an acorn in a frozen ice bank sets off a chain of tectonic events that proves calamitous for all of our other prehistoric animal friends … and, incidentally, separates Earth’s land masses into the seven continents we know today.

A particularly nasty seismic shift separates Manny the mammoth (Ray Romano), Diego the sabertooth tiger (Denis Leary) and Sid the slobbering sloth (John Leguizamo) from the rest of their “mixed herd.” When last seen by everybody else, Manny, Diego and Sid are drifting away from land on an ocean-bound chunk of ice. Also along for the ride: Sid’s denture-challenged Granny (Wanda Sykes).

Back on land, with an advancing mountainous wall threatening to push everybody into the sea, Manny’s better half, Ellie (Queen Latifah), and their headstrong teenage daughter, Peaches (Keke Palmer), organize the others into a rapid march to a nearby “land bridge” that will lead to safety. Trouble-prone possums Crash and Eddie (Seann William Scott and Josh Peck) mindlessly embrace this continental crack-up as another great adventure, while newcomer Louis — a mole hog voiced by Josh Gad (imagine a prehistoric meerkat) — takes a warier view.

Louis has a huge (if impractical) crush on Peaches, who treats him only as a best friend; she’s potty for the self-absorbed Ethan (hip-hop star Drake), the local Big Mammoth on Campus. Prior to their seismic-induced separation, Manny and his headstrong daughter butted heads over her coming-of-age issues; indeed, the bonds of family — in many different variations — keep this story’s loving heart beating throughout increasingly dire events.

Although being adrift in the ocean would be bad enough, things get much worse when Manny, Granny, Sid and Diego encounter a rag-tag pirate crew — aboard a giant ice ship — led by a fearsome, wickedly clawed orangutan dubbed Gutt (Peter Dinklage). The name, Gutt cheerfully explains to his new captives, results from his ability to “turn your innards into your outards.”

Gutt’s varied crew includes first mate Flynn (Nick Frost), a jiggly, giggly elephant seal; Squint (Aziz Ansari), an over-caffeinated bunny with a Napoleon complex; Raz (Rebel Wilson), a prehistoric kangaroo with a penchant for weapons; and Gupta (Kunal Nayyar), a prehistoric badger whose skull-and-crossbones-patterned fur makes him a perfect ship’s pennant.

Oh, and Shira (Jennifer Lopez), a cunning, sexy female sabertooth who immediately views Diego as a challenge to be bested.

Gutt is determined to conscript the new arrivals; Manny is equally determined to return — somehow — to his family. Needless to say, things don’t proceed as anybody expects. Subsequent events unfold in distinct, well-paced acts, with co-directors Steve Martino (“Horton Hears a Who”) and Mike Thurmeier (“Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs”) deftly cross-cutting between the two separated sets of characters.

Each act has its own quite satisfying minor crisis and partial resolution, with everything building to an exciting climax. Scripters Michael Berg and Jason Fuchs definitely know how to establish, maintain and build our emotional investment.

Along the way, we’re equally involved with inter-personal issues, such as Diego’s efforts to talk Shira away from the dark side, and Peaches’ thoughtless snub of poor little Louis. And then there’s the mystery of Granny’s “Precious,” a pet she keeps feeding on the sly, but which nobody else has ever seen.

With a voice cast this talented — and this laden with masters of split-second comic timing — it’s difficult to single out one performance over another. Leguizamo continues to be a stitch as the speech-mangling Sid, particularly when stricken by paralysis-inducing berries; Sykes is every bit as funny as the similarly saliva-spewing Granny.

Romano remains the eternally put-upon husband he played so well on his own TV series, with an equally clueless view of fatherhood thrown in for good measure. Dinklage is impressively nasty and ferocious as the villainous Gutt, while Gad grants the diminutive Louis a sense of nobility that far outstrips his size.

Martino, Thurmeier and cinematographer Renato Falcao make excellent use of this film’s 3-D imaging, with exhilarating sequences that justify the premium admission price. John Powell’s rip-roaring score adds to the frantic action, while also nicely complementing (for example) gentler moments between father and daughter mammoths.

In all respects, “Ice Age: Continental Drift” is a hilarious, suspenseful and inventively amusing romp, with a strong emotional core. I can’t wait for Part Five.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com

‘Brave’

3.5 stars

Starring (voices only): Kelly Macdonald, Billy Connolly, Emma Thompson, Julie Walters, Robbie Coltrane, Kevin McKidd, Craig Ferguson

Rating: PG, and somewhat generously, for rude humor and considerable scary action

All Pixar animated films are lush, impeccably mounted productions — every backdrop fine-tuned to the height of available imaging technology, every scene timed to comic perfection — and “Brave” is no different.

The long, long ago and far, far away Scottish Highlands setting has a verdant ambiance granted even greater verisimilitude by the careful application of 3D cinematography; the resulting full-immersion sensation is as breathtaking to us, in these early years of the 21st century, as William Garity’s ground-breaking multi-plane camera work was for audiences of Disney’s early 1930s and ’40s animated classics.

The characters here are fun and feisty, often exaggerated for comic relief, and led by Merida, a resourceful and headstrong heroine who is voiced fabulously by Kelly Macdonald. Merida’s pluck, determination and stubborn defiance of tradition are matched only by her flaming, flowing red tresses: as much a part of her presence and personality as her oh-so-familiar teenage angst.

All the elements are in place … except one.

The most important one.

However well Brenda Chapman’s original story may have flowed, as first conceived, it has become something of a mess in the hands of screenwriters Mark Andrews, Steve Purcell, Irene Mecchi and Chapman herself, along with (no doubt) the uncredited participation of many, many more Pixar staffers. The result plays less like a cohesive, thematically consistent narrative and more like a committee effort calculated to hit all the essential demographic targets.

That’s a shame. Pixar’s best films are truly original creations that establish their own trends; “Brave,” in contrast, too often echoes bits and pieces from other sources.

Indeed, a major plot point is lifted wholly — and quite disappointingly — from a 2003 Disney (non-Pixar) animated film, which I’ll not identify in order to avoid a major spoiler. But the prominence of this unexpected detour sends “Brave” into a direction rather at odds with its premise, while also compromising the integrity of Merida’s character to a somewhat unfortunate degree.

A brief prologue reveals that, even as a wee lass, Merida lacks the refinement and, ah, girlish composure that would be expected of the first-born daughter of King Fergus (Billy Connolly) and Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson). Merida is much more passionate about archery, an interest her father encourages by presenting the girl with a bow on her birthday … much to the displeasure of his wife.

Flash-forward about a decade, and Merida has grown into a bonny lass; she now has three impish little brothers — identical triplets Harris, Hubert and Hamish — who live to gorge themselves on sweets stolen by any means necessary. Merida loves nothing more than jumping atop her beloved Clydesdale, Angus, and plunging through the surrounding highland forests, where she has erected a maze-like obstacle course laden with hanging targets designed to further test her already impressive archery skills.

This is a joyous, exhilarating sequence that draws cheers each time one of Merida’s arrows hits its mark. It’s also by far the most exciting scene in the film, and therefore represents something of a mistake by co-directors Chapman and Mark Andrews. They set up expectations here, with respect to Merida’s archery skills, which aren’t fulfilled as the story builds to its eventual climax.

Because — and this is completely unacceptable — the eventual third-act crisis isn’t solved by anything having to do with Merida’s archery prowess. Can you imagine author Suzanne Collins foolishly deciding to take Katniss’ bow away from her, midway through “The Hunger Games”?

Anyway, Merida’s life takes a calamitous turn when she learns that she’s intended to wed the first-born son of one of three other unruly co-rulers of this land: massive Lord MacGuffin (Kevin McKidd); surly Lord Macintosh (Craig Ferguson), forever bedecked in blue war paint; and cantankerous, quick-tempered Lord Dingwall (Robbie Coltrane). Such a planned betrothal is traditional, Queen Elinor explains; the headstrong Merida sees only that her life is being ruined.

The girl first embarrasses the other clan lords (quite stylishly, it should be acknowledged). Then she has one of those calamitous arguments with her mother, with both women saying and doing things that they’ll have cause to regret. At which point Merida takes off, astride Angus, and winds up following a trail of ghostly, neon-blue will-o’-the-wisps that lead her into a magical realm of the forest.

One fateful encounter later, Merida returns home with the means to have a wish fulfilled … and we all know how that usually goes. In the grand tradition of all ill-advised bargains with magical entities, Merida’s wish has catastrophic consequences.

Things get dire in the third act, with a level of peril that occasionally overwhelms the family-friendly PG rating. Parents should think twice before bringing very young viewers; several sequences are quite scary. The climactic menace and bloodlust are completely at odds with the film’s playful set-up and deliberately exaggerated characters, particularly the silly clan lords and their even sillier first-born sons, who vie for Merida’s hand in marriage.

We’ve seen this juxtaposition of tone before, in other animated features. The similarly oafish Gaston turns quite nasty toward the end of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast,” while the final, incredibly massive beastie in “How to Train Your Dragon” is rather a shock, after spending so much time with that film’s mostly foolish Vikings.

But the savage events that concluded those two films felt more thematically appropriate, and consistent with the preceding storylines; both climaxes also allowed their respective protagonists to act bravely and honorably. That’s not quite the case in “Brave,” where I rather doubt that Merida has learned the necessary lesson; the denouement lets her off rather easily, considering previous transgressions.

Mostly, though, the story beats feel begged, borrowed and stolen: a bit of “Beauty and the Beast” here; a soupçon of “Lord of the Rings” there; a nod toward Disney’s “Snow White,” with a magic tart standing in for a poisoned apple; and a marvelous horse that — although an engaging supporting character — evokes memories of the similarly intelligent steed in Disney’s “Tangled.”

The Merida we meet, during the film’s first act, deserves better. She’s a vivacious, inspirational character who earns both our trust and respect … at first. But too much of what happens next feels contrived, most particularly a midpoint narrative shift so abrupt that it feels as if we — and Merida — have stumbled into an entirely different story.

I’d love to see the “Brave” that would have resulted from Chapman’s sole vision, but of course that’s impossible.

Meanwhile, I can only lament the unsatisfying, clumsily assembled storyline that simply doesn’t allow Merida to be her best self.

— Read more of Derrick Bang’s film criticism at derrickbang.blogspot.com. Comment on this review at www.davisenterprise.com