Brave Review

Few modern movie studios can boast the track record of Pixar. Just look at some of the feature-length movies they’ve cranked out since 1995: Toy Story, Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, Ratatouille, Wall E, Up. Pixar has been out Disney-ing Disney in the family film department for years, which is why Disney’s buyout of Pixar in 2006 was such a brilliant move. Pixar’s latest, simply titled Brave, is set in medieval Scotland and revolves around Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald), a tomboyish proto-feminist who clashes with her more traditionally-minded mother, Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson). Can Pixar put this one on the shelf next to the rest of their classics-in-the-making, or have they finally proved themselves fallible and produced a dud?

The answer to that question is an emphatic ‘neither.’ There are certainly plenty of things that Brave does right. It’s eye-meltingly gorgeous, for one. There’s an early scene where Merida rides through a verdantly colored forest, shooting arrows from the back of her horse as she goes, and which it was happening all I could do was sit back and thank Pixar for making their entirely fictional world so much prettier than the real one. Between the pop of primary colors, the sweeping camera, and the quicksilver fluidity of the animation, this is yet another Pixar movie that looks even better than the one before it.

I’ve also got to commend the art team for creating a great sense of place. I’ve never been to Scotland and don’t really have plans to go, but I’m happy to imagine that it looks as it does in Brave: as a deep rolling country full of treacherous mountainsides and hidden green glens. The art direction is suburb, from the drafty ramshackle castles to Merida’s scraggly mane of fire-red hair, everything has its place. As a visual experience, Brave is top-notch.

In the early going, the movie also shows some of the adroit story-telling upon which Pixar has built its reputation. As a girl of, I’m guessing, around 14, Merida is reaching what in medieval times passed for marrying age, and her mother the Queen is looking to hitch her up with one of the local noble-folk. Free-spirited Merida disapproves, and the script takes its time exploring her feelings, exploring her mother’s feelings, and building to a confrontation that feels all the more meaningful because we know exactly what’s at stake. One thing Pixar movies have often had over their relatively more pedestrian counterparts like Ice Age is their commitment to a certain internal reality. The images are all computer-generated, but the feelings are real.

And Brave maintains that virtue throughout, but a twist around the midway point is perhaps less inspired onscreen than it was on paper. The back half of the movie exchanges some of that simmering familial tension for a slightly convoluted backstory and a series of pratfalls that, while funny, feel a bit too much like… well, like what you’d expect out of a ‘G’ rated animated movie. If Brave falls a bit short in its storytelling, it’s only because the rest of the studio’s output is so strong.

Because if Brave were pitted against the average animated family film showing in theaters today, it would come out the winner. It’s got rapturous visuals, a memorable central character, and the directorial vision to make the most of both. But it’s not being compared to those films; it’s being compared to other Pixar movies, and in that respect it feels a little lacking. At a brisk 100 minutes, Brave can count itself among those prized number of movies with the conviction to be exactly as long as they need to be and not a needlessly overstuffed minute more, but I left the theater wanting something it didn’t quite give me.

Kids are sure to love it, but kids will love just about anything. Really, try playing with a laser pointer in front of one sometime.