Review: Brave (2012)

Brave

Scotland gets the Pixar treatment

Released: 13 August 2012

Director: Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman, Steve Purcell (co-director)

Cast: Kelly MacDonald, Emma Thompson, Billy Connolly, Kevin McKidd, Robbie Coltrane, Craig Ferguson, Julie Walters

Plot: Young princess Merida (MacDonald) breaks a tradition long held by her kingdom, causing uproar amongst her family and fellow Scots. In an effort to change her dull fate, she turns to a magic spell that could alter her destiny for the worse.

WALL-E depicted a dystopian future-scape of the Earth, Finding Nemo the fantastical depths of its oceans, and recent Pixar venture Up explored the Americas, telling the tale of a lonely, stubborn old man’s inventive relocation from bustling, choking city life to peaceful bliss in South American paradise. Brave moves a little further from Pixar’s home: enshrouding itself in the mountainous, watercolour painting style beauty and timeless Celtic history of Scotland. It is no rarity that American portrayals of real life locations are romanticised, and Brave presents Scotland no differently. In interviews, MacDonald expressed that she indeed recognised some landscapes, whereas McKidd, who plays Lord MacGuffin and his son, (whether this name is a nod to film terminologists or not remains to be seen) said that nobody but Disney Pixar could “improve Scotland”. Ultimately, Scotland itself as a setting is vitally important to Brave, since much of it deals with elements of history that require quite a leap backward in time – something America as a setting cannot do.

So, on screen, Brave presents us with an idyllic yet beautiful image of Scotland that required Pixar to completely reprogram its animation system to create more detailed textures and smoother physics, e.g. rippling water or greenery that floats in the wind – though the standout is undoubtedly Merida’s bouncing, vibrant, curly ginger locks exceeding the benchmark- setting aesthetic quality of Monsters Inc.’s Sully’s blue fur. This visual excellence courses through the very veins of the film, enlightening the cinematography in scenes such as Merida’s archery challenge to her suitors, delivering a pinpoint accurate shot that splits the previous bulls-eye arrow in two – in full slow-mo splendour. The ambitions of director Mark Andrews (and co-director Steve Purcell) can clearly be recognised in such creative efforts. Success is also due to Patrick Doyle’s original score, which is composed of conventional Celtic sounds and instruments.

Merida, her mother Elinor (Thompson) and father Fergus (Connolly)

            Merida herself deserves recognition in all her aspects. Firstly, she is the first Disney character to embody an ahead-of-her-time, feminist, independent role, as the studio’s first leading lady (Jessie was added to Toy Story 2 to help the female audience relate better, as was Holley Shiftwell to Cars 2). It is fitting then, that the first female lead defies everything Disney alone has ever presented in feminine attributes – she rejects that she be suited to a prince charming, and ensures she does not suffer the fate her mother in turn attempts to impose upon her (“A princess does not fight”). Brave, indeed. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly considered, are the roots of such politics. Original director Brenda Chapman was controversially fired from the project due to ‘creative differences’, though the other side’s story is more telling of the role gender played in such conflict. Claiming that Pixar was a male dominated environment, Chapman expressed the ‘devastating’ nature of her replacement by a male, since the storyline emerged from a personal place in her life. And yet, who knows if the overall result of such actions was for better or for worse? – (Many fans blame George Lucas’ intervening of his relationship with his adopted son for the failure of The Phantom Menace). Finally, there’s the storyline itself – the premise of which is about a young, rebellious teenage girl single handedly setting out to change her fate – the Katniss Everdeen of the Celts, similarly equipped with masterful archery skills. And once the story comes full circle, it’s easy to see how appropriate a title ‘Brave’ is.

            Elsewhere, the likes of Billy Connolly, Emma Thompson and Kevin McKidd deliver strong supporting roles – Connolly himself born to play the role of Merida’s father Fergus, manifested in much the form that an unaccustomed American audience would swear their bottom dollars on as a digital reconstruction. As characters go, his is the most likeable, a title well contested for by Merida’s three younger brothers of whom the younger audience will indisputably be tipped in favour of. Thompson’s Elinor is the traditional but loving mother who constrains Merida, yet remains on the audience’s good side nonetheless. In fact, Brave sports one of the most lovable Pixar casts yet.

The Lords of Scotland, voiced by Kevin McKidd, Craig Ferguson and
Robbie Coltrane

As ever, the geniuses at Pixar have masterfully conducted a balancing act of comedy, emotion and heart-warming yet serious storytelling, all surfacing at their crucial cues. Listen out for a golden moment in mature comedy after the bear chase through the castle, which is (without giving away too much) in reference to a famous American celebrity politician. For the younger generation, Brave features staple slapstick and rudey- nudey laughs, which, in honesty can be appreciated by any age retaining a compatible sense of humour.

            However, what holds Brave from attaining complete five- star greatness is its storyline. The first act is flawless, but the remainders are only good. The foundations are in place for another truly brilliant piece of work, yet Brave sacrifices its confident realism for a Disney/DreamWorks- esque magical scenario when the legendary ‘will-o-the-whisps’ lead Merida to a witch who offers her the chance to change her fate. Playing an underused part (voiced by Julie Walters), the witch simply, and criminally, vanishes from the narrative hereafter. Against prior predictions, though, Brave makes the most of a fairly depraved narrative arc and injects it with raw emotion, never failed by its constant tendency to make you intermittently laugh, smile, and (admit it), choke up.

Verdict: Bearing the humour and sentiment of Up and the graphic spectacle of Wall-E, Brave is a melting pot of Pixar’s consistent qualities and a reminder of its continued brilliance. ★★★★