As far as animated kid’s movies go, Jorge R. Gutierrez’ The
Book of Life is simultaneously wildly inventive and totally familiar,
which are the film’s greatest strengths and weaknesses, respectively.
Fortunately for the viewer, one totally supersedes the other, and the end
result is a stunningly beautiful movie with a story that, while not
particularly original, could be much, much worse, and has enough going on at
the periphery that it is still interesting. And to be honest, there aren’t
enough children’s movies about death, let alone ones that deal with it as
positively as this one.
The core of the story of The Book of Life
revolves around your basic love triangle, where lifelong friends, Manolo (Diego
Luna) and Joaquin (Channing Tatum), compete for the hand of their other
childhood friend, Maria (Zoe Saldana). It’s obvious which one should get the
girl and how things are going to pan out, with all of the usual roadblocks
standing in the lovers’ way, as well as some that come from way out in left
field.
That may not sound particularly interesting, but the
characters are strong and charming enough that one don’t mind that this is a
story we’ve seen before, and fortunately for everyone involved, almost every
other element is incredible.
This primary narrative thread is framed within a larger
story about so-called “detention kids” on a field trip to a museum. Not the
kind of students who usually dig this kind of educational adventure, the tour
guide takes them to a back room and tells them a special story about the Day of
the Dead, Mexico’s annual celebration of those who are no longer with us. From
here, the viewer dives into the magical world of San Angel, where the three
heroes live, and where a wager between La Muerta (Kate del Castillo) and her
mischievous husband, Xibalba (Ron Perlman)—rulers of the Land of the Remembered
and the Land of the Forgotten, respectively—about the outcome of the budding
romance, will have a massive impact on three different realms.
This is where the film distinguishes itself from any other
animated work out there, in rendering San Angel and lands of the dead. Produced
by Guillermo del Toro, Gutierrez and his team create a cinematic world with a
totally unique look that has more in common with bizarro Saturday morning
cartoons than you average modern animated feature. In the story within the
story, the characters are all patterned on marionettes, articulated and made of
wood, though still warm and more human than most pixelated creations. Combining
incredible depth of field with a festive Mexican aesthetic, The Book
of Life is a gorgeous, vivid, wholly unique mythological adventure
that includes a heroic quest through the realms of the dead.
While the love story may be simple, there is a wealth of
thematic material swirling around. Life and death is an obvious one, and the
way it’s presented is actually one hell of a way to introduce the idea of
mortality to kids, to show them the power of remembrance, to celebrate the life
lived, not mourn the passing.
Love and destiny both play integral parts, but it is the
idea of family, of fathers and sons and parents and children, that may be the
most important of the secondary thematic ideas. Manolo is a reluctant
bullfighter, driven that way by an overbearing father when he wants to be a
musician, and is earnestly brave. Joaquin needs a magical medal to be
courageous—a secret gift from the trickster Xibalba—and though he’s cocky and
dim, he’s still sweet. He lives the shadow of his own dead father, the town
hero for fighting off the notorious bandit, Chakal (Dan Navarro), and Tatum is
a perfect fit. Maria, for her part, wants to live her own life, but
circumstances and her father keep pressing her into a corner.
Framed at it is, the very idea of storytelling is an
important idea to The Book of Life. It may be simple, but
the concept of writing one’s own story, creating one’s own narrative, and
living one’s own life, is as good a lesson as any to learn.
Though the film makes nice use of notable pop
songs—including hits from Radiohead, Rod Stewart, and Elvis—the originals may
be what keeps The Book of Life from becoming a modern
animated classic, up there with The Nightmare Before Christmas.
They’re not terrible by any means, but neither are they particularly inspired
or noteworthy, either—they are just bland. They could have used a couple of
hours with a team of Disney songwriters, and it’s one element of the film that
never measures up to the rest. But they’re still better than Ice Cube’s too
broad turn as the Candle Maker, the god-like figure at the center of the myth.
Despite revolving around a formulaic love story and a
climactic battle with a largely inconsequential villain, The Book of
Life carves out a stunning visual niche and a fantastic world full of
memorable characters that provides a different perspective than the typical
animated feature. That, alone, makes it worth seeing. And it doesn’t hurt that
it has quite a bit more to recommend it. As a result, The Book of Life
is a movie to add it to one’s calendar of seasonal holiday movie watching.
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