Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

***spoilers below!***

‘Remember, Puss.  Death comes for us all.’

Like most people, I imagined that a Puss in Boots-based movie would be a pleasant bit of fluff designed to keep the kids quiet for a couple of hours.  Sometimes, it’s good to be wrong. Because the anarchic, self-aware and surprisingly profound story of Puss in Boots: The Last Wish makes this little gem of a movie a true spiritual successor to The Greatest Sequel in Movie History – Shrek 2.     

But, as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself.  Our story begins with our favourite whiskered hero throwing himself into yet another death-defying scenario for the benefit of some grateful townsfolk.  But despite his victory in a beautifully rendered battle with a wood-giant, poor Puss is unceremoniously crushed to death by a rogue church bell.  But fret not.  For Puss, like all noble felines, has nine lives to play with.   He therefore emerges from his latest death with no more concern than we would give to a medium-sized hangover. 

However, once the local doctor/barber/witch-finder has done some quick maths, he points out that Puss has now been killed no less than eight times.  And that means his next death will be for keeps.  As he starts to realise the seriousness of his situation, Puss makes a decent attempt at peaceful retirement.  But when by chance he hears of a fallen star that will give the finder a single wish, our hero brushes off his hat and boots, and embarks upon a quest to get his swamp back.  No – sorry!  To get his nine lives back.  Along the way he finds companions old and new, battles enemies mortal and otherwise, and finally discovers what life is really all about.

I do get a bit nervous when I see an animated movie with a cast list stuffed with famous names.  Screen acting and voice acting are really very different skills, and without strong vocal work, an animated story like this can never really take off.  Happily, the The Last Wish cast all deliver the goods.  First praise has to go to Harvey Guillen, who was wonderful as dear Perrito. It’s always tricky to be the earnest character, especially in a film as self-aware as this one, but his determined optimism – at first played for laughs – emerges as a genuine source of resilience in an unfeeling and perilous world.  (Yes, I would like to be his friend.) Antonio Banderas has definitely been working on his growl, and throws himself into his musical number with gusto.  Salma Hayek was an excellent foil to Puss, helped by some understated but very effective character design.  The movie avoids entirely that awful trend of sticking boobs on a non-human character and deciding that makes them female.  Instead, it is gestures, expressions, and movement which convey a sense of the feminine or masculine. That, and the occasional, exceptional beard.  While the films visuals generally tend towards the expressive rather than realistic, in this area, a less-is-more approach works wonders.  

Of course, there is no such thing as a decent quest without a decent baddie. Shrek had Lord Farquaad, and then the iconic Fairy Godmother, but Jack Horner is honestly one of the most brilliantly, relentlessly unpleasant baddies I’ve ever seen on screen.   He is entirely without merit, charm, or redeeming feature.  Unendingly, grindingly grasping in his pursuit of any and all magical relics, we might start to wonder if there is some larger aim to all of this?  Some reason behind all the de-horned unicorns? All those mangled henchmen?  Nope.  Jack wants all the magic in the world just so that no one else can have it.  It’s so bleak!  So pointless!  So…depressingly believable.  Is this some comment on end-stage Capitalism?  Perhaps a more pointed criticism of Hollywood’s increasing obsession with Intellectual Property?  Or is Jack just the anti -Puss?  What you are left with when a person refuses ever to learn, to change, to care at all?  

Because for all the lush, inventive visuals, pacy story-telling, and flashes of Shrek-ish humour, The Last Wish is at heart a rather serious tale.  Which involves our Puss becoming a rather serious character. He learns – very slowly – that everyone has to grow up, and everybody dies.  And the only thing that makes life worth living is finding people to care about.   

That does sound a bit much now I’ve written it out, but this animated cat in a fairytale world honestly shows more character development than you’d see in a dozen real-live leading men.   Puss spends a lot of time running from the past, from commitment, even from Death.  But he does eventually learn to admit his mistakes.  He apologies to the people he has hurt.  He looks inward and realises that he needs to make a change.  In short, he grows up.   That doesn’t mean losing any sense of joy or potential (looking at you, Jack).  It means making real connections and fighting to keep them.   So finally, in a spaghetti-western inspired showdown, our animated feline friend fights Death itself.  Puss doesn’t win of course, but he does choose to keep on fighting.  Best result you can hope for, really.

It is a surprisingly down-beat ending, in a way.  No wish for anyone, no easy solutions here.  Make the most of what you have, because while you can’t choose what happens to you, you can chose how you react to it.  Look around you, and within you, and really think about what is worth fighting for.  Loss is part of what defines us, but it’s never the whole story.  Death is inevitable, but first we can live. It’s heady stuff!  But all in all it feels bittersweet, not melancholy, because I think Puss’s best days are still in front of him.

What did you think?  Were you caught unawares by the surprisingly intense storyline?  How did this film compare to the first Puss in Boots movie?  Would you like to have a drink with the surprisingly charming Death?   As ever, let me know!

How to Train Your Dragon (2019)

*spoilers below*

Growing up sometimes means growing apart…

Having made a place of peace for men and dragons, viking chieftain Hiccup and the fire breathing Toothless are contented in their world, saving dragons from human hunters and protecting the island haven of Berk.  The threats of overcrowding and poaching seem manageable until another, far more pressing peril emerges: adulthood.

As the finale in a so-far excellent trilogy, does Hidden World give these much loved characters the send-off they deserve?  Sorry, can’t answer, I’ve got something in my eye…

So, our little Berkians are no longer quite so little.  Appalling facial hair and increased responsibilities mean that the characters we first encountered as awkward teens are confronting the very serious –  and very ridiculous – business of courtship.  Of course, there are still a few real adults around; Gobber and Valka know what’s up.  But they wisely limit themselves to a few words of advice, because this is something the youngsters will just have to work out for themselves.

But the human’s emotional entanglements are pushed to the background when a master dragon-slayer emerges and sets his malicious sites on Toothless.  In a cruel twist of fate, Grimmel the Grim plans to ensnare Toothless in a honey trap of his own.  For he has captured the last female of Toothless’s species: a Light Fury.

In a lesser film, our young heroes would work together to defeat the evil poacher, then effortlessly pair up and ride off into the sunset on their dragons.  But here, even as Hiccup struggles to keep his friends together, there is a sense of doom about his efforts.  Surprisingly early in the story, it starts to become clear that the problem runs much deeper than one maniacal dragon-killer.

Toothless and Hiccup have come so far together.  They have made sacrifices for each other and grown so much.  They’ve changed each other, the way that only real friendship can.  But, in the end, they have to grow up and that means accepting the harshest truth of all: love isn’t always enough.

For all their efforts, the world of men remains a fundamentally dangerous place for dragons.  In order for them to have any real future, the dragons must leave their human friends and return to the Hidden World.

This then isn’t a story about what happens, so much as why it happens.  We can see early on what choices Toothless and Hiccup will make.  In fact, we seem to know much sooner than they do themselves!  It’s how they get there, understanding what drives them to make that choice, that propels the story.  So Toothless falls head over heels, wooing the mysterious Light Fury and taking his place as king of the dragons.   And Hiccup makes peace with his fears and self-doubt, and becomes a man by finally marrying Astrid.

It all looks beautiful, of course.  This is one of those films you really deserve to see in the cinema.  The dragon designs are as varied and inventive as ever.  They all have a strong sense of identity and are wonderfully expressive.  The Hidden World itself is full of colour and light – and tiny golden baby dragons! –  alien yet inviting.   Old Burk is like a viking version of downtown Tokyo, crammed full of ornaments and buildings and signs, humans and dragons all smushed together in a glorious, creative hodgepodge (the dragon-parking machine is especially cool).   Even the framing of the dragons is carefully considered.  In fight scenes, they loom large in the shot, dangerous and powerful, too big to be contained by any tiny human contrivance.  But when left to themselves, the dragons are mostly shot at a distance, keeping them small in the frame, like distant birds.  For all their power, these beasts are still vulnerable out in the world.  Toothless and Light Fury’s blossoming romance was another highlight.  These silent scenes are some of the most moving in the film, as their awkward, halting courtship giving way to an elegant, airborne dance.  The music soars in this latter scene, uplifting and emotive.  It was like something from a Gene Kelly movie, all grace and heart and gorgeousness.  I loved it!

Yet, there’s no escaping the inevitable.  Growing up means moving away from the past: developing by taking in new experiences and overcoming fresh challenges.  Toothless must learn to communicate with Light Fury, and how to take to the skies alone; Hiccup has to decide what is best for his people, striking out to find them a new home.   But, growing up also involves a return to the past: recalling those important early moments that help to define us, and taking up the mantle left by our ancestors.   Toothless and Light Fury’s burgeoning relationship is an odd mirror image of Toothless and Hiccups early encounters, two strangers finding trust and common ground.  Hiccup looks back to his father to help him understand what his role is and what he needs to do next.  As the two friends part ways, we come full circle.

This is all heavy stuff for a kid’s movie, yet it feels bitter-sweet rather than maudlin or gloomy.  Regret and loss are part of life, and sometimes moving forward means letting go.  Yet there is always hope for the future.  As our heroes become fathers themselves, there is a heart-warming reunion and a reminder that one day the world will be a better place.  And then, perhaps, the dragons will come back to us.

Well, that was surprisingly emotional!  Were you quietly moved, or left cold by the finale?  The kids in the audience seemed charmed when I saw this – did you find the same?  Have I missed anything vital out?  As always, let me know!