Category: Family film

Time Bandits (1981)


Time travelling roguery in Time Bandits 

Director: Terry Gilliam

Cast: Craig Warnock (Kevin), David Rappaport (Randall), Kenny Baker (Fidgit), Malcolm Dixon (Strutter), Mike Edmonds (Og), Jack Purvis (Wally), Tiny Ross (Vermin), John Cleese (Robin Hood), Sean Connery (Agamemnon), Shelley Duvall (Pansy), Katherine Helmond (Mrs Ogre), Ian Holm (Napoleon), Michael Palin (Vincent), Ralph Richardson (Supreme Being), Peter Vaughan (Winston), David Warner (Evil), Jim Broadbent (Compere)

After leaving Monty Python, each Python went their own way. Terry Gilliam had been the slightly odd one, the eccentric animator who played the weirdos at the edge of the frame. Time Bandits would be pivotal in repositioning him as an ambitious, visionary director with a striking visual sense. It would also allow him (and co-writer Michael Palin) to create a fairytale fable with something for all ages, a film about a child’s view of the world which adults could embrace.

Kevin (Craig Warnock) is a dreamer, a young kid adrift in his parent’s materialistic world. Until one night a gang of dwarves calling themselves “Time Bandits” emerge out of his bedroom cupboard. They have a map that allows them to travel through time and use it to commit crimes and then escape to different centuries. Kevin joins them in their adventures, but none of them know they have attracted the attention of the Evil Genius (David Warner) who wants to use the map to escape his prison and recreate the world in his own image.

I still remember watching this film when I was younger and really enjoying (I must have watched it dozens of times). I have to say it holds up extremely well. Sure Craig Warnock isn’t the most inspired child actor of all time, but he has a wide eyed innocence and enthusiasm that anchors the film really well. Gilliam’s direction is brilliantly good – wild and inventive, like a punk-rock fairytale. The dwarfs make an inspired grouping, each embracing the once-in-a-lifetime chance of playing leading roles.

The main reason for the film’s success is Gilliam. His work is extraordinarily detailed and imaginative, while his visual sense makes shots that cost hundreds of pounds look like millions. Huge swathes of the film are shot with a low-angle lens that allows us to see everything from the perspective of our heroes, and also makes each of these larger-than-life events seem even more awe-inspiring. The design of the film is extraordinary, with striking images confronting you at every turn, either a recreation of events or the bizarre visuals of the “time of wonder”.

And those visuals are outstanding. Can you think of any other film where a knight on horseback bursts out of a bedroom cupboard, charges around the room in medium shot, and then gallops off through a field that has suddenly replaced the bedroom wall? How about an ogre who lives on a ship that is then revealed to be a hat for a giant who lives underwater? Evil’s Fortress is a swaggeringly brilliant triumph of production design, while his goat skulled, tall, hooded monsters must surely have been playing in JK Rowling’s mind when she came up with the Dementors.

The design also echoes the possibility that this is all a child’s fantasy. A careful look at Kevin’s bedroom shows pictures of everything we encounter. The final confrontation with Evil takes place on a set clearly inspired by the Lego bricks, chess board and toys that litter Kevin’s bedroom. 

The playful tone is also reflected in its lampooning of the “adult” world of technology for its dull materialism: Kevin’s parents watch a bullying gameshow (compered by a demonic Jim Broadbent) while sitting on armchairs still in their plastic wrapping. Evil’s obsessions all revolve around lasers and the microchip.

Away from all this, the film has a simple structure. It’s basically a series of really rather fun historical sketches, linked together by an engaging fantasy narrative. These scenes attracted guest star performers, all of whom excel (though it is odd to see them get top billing – Cleese is on screen for about three minutes, but gets top-billing!). 

The guest stars are terrific – Holm is hilarious as a chippy, height-obsessed Napoleon; Cleese very funny as a visiting-Royal-inspired Robin Hood, treating all around him with condescension; Ralph Richardson brings an absent-minded imperiousness and dry wit to his role as God; Connery sprinkles a touch of movie-star bravado as a kindly, gentle Agamemnon (the uncommented on joke being the movie’s ideal father figure is most famous for sacrificing his daughter…). 

If any performer high-jacks the film it’s David Warner as a dry-witted, viciously ego-maniacal Evil Being, getting most of the best lines. A sequence where he obliterates several underlings for minor transgressions hums with dark humour (and punchlines with the accidental obliteration of another minion off screen, met with a sheepish “Sorry”). On top of that, Warner brings just the right level of sinister child’s-nightmareish quality to the role, helped by a striking costume design that makes him look the love-child of a crocodile and a car engine.

The leads of the film (Kevin and the bandits) are extremely well drawn by Palin’s script, each of them with sharply distinctive personalities. David Rappaport (allegedly incredibly unpopular with the others due to his haughty disregard for them) is perfect as the arrogant self-appointed leader, but Jack Purvis is a stand-out as the warmly brave Wally. More than a few commentators have pointed out that the Bandits all serve as representatives of the members of the Monty Python troop, which adds another level of fun watching the film.

Time Bandits is electric good fun. I have no doubt I might find more to criticise without the memory of enjoying it so much when I was younger. Some of the sketches work less well than others – the scene with the ogre doesn’t quite work, and the ending, twistedly funny as it is, does feel slightly abrupt is. But the film never outstays its welcome, and it’s put together with such glee and accomplishment that there is always a line or an image that sticks with you. It’s a dark fairytale for children of all ages – and making something the whole family can enjoy is really quite a feat. Palin and Gilliam would have put together a sensational series of Doctor Who.

Moana (2016)


Maui and Moana conquer the seas in this wonderfully fun Disney yarn

Director: Ron Clements, John Musker

Cast: Auli’i Cravalho (Moana), Dwayne Johnson (Maui), Rachel House (Tala), Temuera Morrison (Tui), Jermaine Clement (Tamatoa), Nichole Scherzinger (Sina), Alan Tudyk (Hei-Hei)

Once upon a time, the demi-God Maui (Dwayne Johnson) stole the heart of the island goddess Te Fiti, in order to give it to humanity. But he was attacked by the lava demon Te Kā and lost the heart and his magical fishhook. A thousand years later, Moana (Auli’I Cravalho), the daughter of the chief of her small island, grows to be a teenager who dreams of exploring beyond the reef. When her island’s crops start to fail, the Ocean chooses her to leave the island to find Maui and restore Te Fiti’s heart, in order to restore health to the world.

Moana is a charming, engaging and witty Disney movie, with strong, well-drawn characters, that immerses itself in its Polynesian mythology setting. What works about it – and what always puts Disney above its competitors – is that the film is interested in telling a story about characters who have real concerns and depth. Compare it to other, more stunted, “joke”-focused animations, produced by companies like Dreamworks, to see how far above those films it is. There are very few jokes here that will date (perhaps one about tweeting) – instead it’s a film that recognises its content for the adults doesn’t need to be sly film references or cheeky gags: a strong plot and engaging characters will entertain all generations.

One of the reasons the movie works so well is because Moana herself is a sympathetic, engaging heroine with dreams and aspirations, but who is still deeply respectful of her background. She’s not a rebellious teen, but someone who wants to improve the world around her, and is beautifully voiced by Cravalho. As such, she’s not only a great role model (take note parents!), but someone you end up totally rooting for. It also helps that she has a wonderful chemistry with Maui (very well voiced by a charmingly sparkling Johnson) – the film quietly subverts the expected Mentor/Pupil relationship between the two, as each teaches the other lessons both practical and spiritual.

Moana learns many of the lessons Disney picked up from Frozen. Like that film, it follows a free-spirited, independent-minded young woman not defined by a romantic interest. Its focus is on the lead overcoming a task to save her world. And it is built around an extremely catchy, very good song. How Far I’ll Go, Moana’s signature song (refrains of which are built into many of the other songs), is a sensational, powerful and tear-prickling power ballad about being yourself and following your own heart. It is remarkably easy to sing along with and carries a great message. It’s also got a brilliant popular appeal – I was stunned to see the YouTube video of it has over 141 millionhits (would that this site had so many). Many of the other songs are similarly excellent, especially the extremely hummable You’re Welcome (the songs are brilliantly composed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Opetaia Foa’I and Mark Mancina).

Its visuals are outstanding, the animation terrific. I also really liked the way Clements and Musker embraced the strengths of silent characters, and the expressiveness animation can bring to characters. The Ocean, a clear character here who influences events, is nothing more than a shaped concentrated wave with no features, but has an expressiveness that makes it one of the wittiest characters in the film (memories of the carpet from Aladdin spring to mind). Similarly, the silent, dim-witted chicken Hei-Hei supplies many of the film’s laugh-out-loud moments. Maui’s body tattoos (wonderfully illustrated), moving and communicating silently with Maui throughout the movie, are terrifically innovative and feel unique.

Moana has a looseness and coolness to it that makes it an enjoyable, perfect viewing for a Saturday night. The storytelling is brilliantly done and the final confrontations are shot with a daring vibrancy that betters many action films. Clements and Musker have a mastery of the material that creates a gripping and involving story and characters. In many ways, it doesn’t do anything too unique or different from past Disney movies, but it tells the story with such charm and imagination that you’ll get totally wrapped up in it.