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| Scene from Christopher Robin |
It's not hard to find ways to argue that the world is a mess. With hate and corruption rampant in the news, the idea of anything being pure at heart has become increasingly difficult to find. However, there's always been one thing that's been there: Winnie the Pooh. Based on A.A. Milne's beloved book series, Winnie the Pooh is a bear who embodies the Disney ethos of being innocent and kind. With director Marc Forster's latest Christopher Robin, he decides to explore the franchise for the first time outside of the frame of animation. In its place is an adult protagonist whose antagonist isn't a greedy corporation, but his inner demons. Can Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor) return to the Hundred Acre Woods with the same glimmer in his eye as he did as a child? As the film suggests the answer isn't a total yes but, like the audience seeking nostalgia points from the film, it's a lot easier than one would think.
The film is quintessentially a "gritty reboot," akin to the mythos of Spielberg's Hook. The premise is basically about what happens when Christopher Robin grows up, unable to live out the childlike wonder with the gang of beloved characters. He's a war veteran who works for a business doomed to lay people off. While the film is set in an unspecified time in the early 20th century, it feels like the economic and social problems of 2018, when jobs aren't as secure as they once were and the idea of a bright future isn't guaranteed. Christopher Robin rejects family time in favor of getting ahead, and in the process distances himself from youth. That is until Winnie the Pooh, his beloved stuffed "bear with no brains," comes as a bit of a therapist to the aging, woeful hero of the film.
What should be noted is that this film strays slightly from the path of most Winnie the Pooh-related stories. While there are nods to the classic The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, this is a story about existentialism, where the adult grapples with the idea of youthful thought. It's telling that the staff then includes co-writers lie Alex Ross Perry (Listen Up Phillip) and Tom McCarthy (Spotlight), who focus on stories more emotional and adult. While the film never becomes too rooted in dark and isolating themes, it does feel like there's certain barriers for younger audiences to fully appreciate the action on screen. Yes, Winnie the Pooh (Jim Cummings) is a delight and his new frayed look updates him in a way that plays into the film's realism. There is a sense of aging here that works, even if it then is at odds with the humor - the most honest and precise connection to the franchise.
By the end, Christopher Robin is another one of Disney's rare achievements in live action remakes, joining the likes of Pete's Dragon from a few years back. Here it is a story that mixes madcap action, witty humor, and deep woe into a story that keeps moving in interesting directions. The set design is another thing to admire, as The Hundred Acre Woods is a bit disheveled, at times recalling Terence Malick and others Stephen King dystopia. It's a land ravaged by time, reflecting the inner struggles of Christopher Robin. How deep the film's subtext of painting this imaginary land as Christopher Robin's inner soul is up for debate. However, it does feel like this is one of the more experimental and artful explorations of Disney iconography that has been set to screen. What it lacks at times in emotional weight it makes up for by "maturing" the characters without ruining their appeal.
In an era where most Disney live action remakes are cynical and inferior, Christopher Robin at least tries to be something new. It's a commentary on nostalgia's impact on adulthood, and how one festers without the other. There is a tragic sense of growing up, but there's also rebirth when sons and daughters discover these worlds. The film begins as Christopher Robin's journey, but ends more as a passing to another generation, or a sharing of sorts where there's genuine interest in childhood things, where work is secondary to life's great pleasures. While the film espouses a bit too much towards the end, it still manages to create an image that is compelling, powerful, and charming. It isn't like The Jungle Book or Beauty and the Beast remakes, which exist solely to try old tricks in different media. This exists for conversation, an entry way into modern indie film as well as Milne's great work.
The film is by no means a masterpiece. It has trouble being as effective as the carefree youth depicted in Winnie the Pooh (2011). Then again, it only raises a bunch of curious ideas as to what this film will mean to generations later on. Will it be a film that resonates because of how it blends youthful conversation with adult worries? Will it be respected for its aesthetic, much like Pete's Dragon? The film isn't quite the runaway hit as a family film, but it does have enough going on that it's at least Disney's art house-iest mainstream film in awhile. It may never replace the other films, in part because it lacks The Sherman Brothers' catchy tunes (well, mostly). However, it is better than it has any right to be, and its ability to be mature and downright silly at times proves why the character remains more flexible and engaging than any other Disney franchise of its ilk.
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