by Laura Hawbaker
A lovable, sentient robot. He may be mechanical, but he possesses the inquisitive curiosity of a small child. He finds companionship on Earth and peril in the outer reaches of the cosmos. The title character of this film, spawned from one of Pixar’s greatest creative minds, is a martyr, an inanimate saint with more heart and courage than any mortal could ever hope to have.
No, the robot in question is not WALL-E, the tiny, computer-animated lead man of America’s current #1 blockbuster.
He is, in fact, the Iron Giant, the 100-foot tall star of 1999’s critically acclaimed, hand drawn blockbuster failure, “The Iron Giant.”
Based off of Ted Hughes’ award-winning, 1968 novel, The Iron Man, “The Iron Giant” utilizes a well-tuned, poignant storyline to chronicle the escapades of an alien robot (voiced by the then-unknown Vin Diesel) after he crash lands on earth and befriends Hogarth (Eli Marienthal), a boy with an affinity for bringing home strays. Hogarth attempts to hide the Iron Giant from his mother and a snooping government agent, all while teaching and learning lessons about life, death and what it means to be good. This is best illustrated when Hogarth and the Iron Giant peruse comics together, and the Giant learns the difference between the heroic Superman and Atomo, the metal menace (who looks strikingly similar to the enormous metal man).
The film is the feature directorial debut of Brad Bird. Set during the Cold War, “The Iron Giant” gleefully indulges itself in retro mise-en-scene: scrap-collecting beatniks, B-horror movies, space invaders, and a perpetual, paranoid dread of nuclear attack. Bird chose the 1950s because the decade “presented a wholesome surface, yet beneath was this incredible paranoia. We were all going to die in a freak-out.” Much like the novel it’s based upon, the film criticizes warfare and inter-human conflict. The Iron Giant himself, a mechanical war machine installed with bombs and laser blasters that would make any “Transformers” fan-boy salivate, struggles to contain the evil within by developing his own, deceptively simple moral mantra: “I am not a gun.”
“The Iron Giant” was tagged “a smart family film” with the kind of detail-oriented animation made world-renowned by Hayao Miyazaki (“Princess Mononoke,” “Spirited Away”). Critics far and wide sang the film’s praises: the New York Times called it “a smooth, skilled example of filmmaking,” and USA Today beamed, “There is intelligent life in animation beyond planet Disney.”
However, marred by Warner Brother’s abysmal ad campaign and a vanishing interest in traditional animation, “The Iron Giant” bombed at the box office, earning only $23 million domestically. Warner’s then-president of production, Lorenzo Di Bonaventura, complained, “People always say to me, ‘Why don’t you make smarter family movies?’ … The lesson is: Every time you do, you get slaughtered.”
A lot has happened in the world of animation since “The Iron Giant” hit the big screen. While the heyday of traditional animation is well and truly buried six-feet under, foreign hand-drawn features are making a slow but profound comeback in the art houses (“Persepolis,” “The Triplets of Belleville”).
But traditional animation’s arch nemesis—computer animation—holds moviegoers in a conquering chokehold. An inundation of computer-animated junk, usually featuring some form of talking animal, has hit the theaters in the past seven years. Here and there are the pristine additions to the onslaught, and we can always count on Pixar (who scooped up Brad Bird and his impressive storytelling talents for “The Incredibles” and “Ratatouille”) to deliver a gemstone in what is otherwise a dark, depressing coalmine.
It’s no surprise that, a decade after “The Iron Giant” premiered, Pixar has turned in its latest venture to a robot with a small vocabulary and big heart. When watching “WALL-E,” one can’t help but think back to “The Iron Giant” and wonder if the world is ready for a Giant-awakening. Like the Giant, WALL-E has the ability to fix himself when he needs it, and possesses a predilection for hanging out in junkyards. Like the Giant, WALL-E shoots into the cosmos to rescue a beloved friend. Like the Giant, WALL-E sacrifices himself to save the world, and in doing so, calls to question what makes us human.
Once again, a robot proves that the best way to showcase humanity’s greatest potential is by placing a soul in something inanimate.
