Coco (2017)

Coco (2017)

IMDB Rating:  8.8/10 ( as on 23.12.2017)

PG | 1h 45min | Animation, Adventure, Comedy

Aspiring musician Miguel, confronted with his family's ancestral ban on music, enters the Land of the Dead to find his great-great-grandfather, a legendary singer.

Directors: Lee Unkrich, Adrian Molina (co-director)

Writers: Lee Unkrich (original story by), Jason Katz (original story by)

Stars: Anthony Gonzalez, Gael García Bernal, Benjamin Bratt 

 IMDB link  Here

Coco Is Among Pixar's Best Movies in Years

CHRISTOPHER ORR

Though Pixar has never acknowledged as much publicly, its cinematic philosophy (and business model) has shifted notably: Where the studio once aspired to excellence with every single picture—Pixar president Ed Catmull wrote an entire book expressing this ideal, Creativity, Inc.—it now seems content to roll out a few profitable, hyper-merchandise-friendly sequels for every genuinely original feature it unveils. (To put it another way, the studio has shifted away from “creativity” and toward “inc.”)

Miguel Rivera (Anthony Gonzalez) is a 12-year-old boy in Mexico whose greatest desire in life is to be a musician like his idol, the mid-century legend Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt). Alas, Miguel’s great-great-grandmother was abandoned by her musician husband, and the Rivera family has enforced an iron-clad policy against music ever since. Instead, each subsequent generation has gone into the family business of making shoes. (Shades of Hermey, the toy-making elf who wished to become a dentist.)

But could it be that de la Cruz was in fact Miguel’s long since written-off great-great-grandfather? That certainly appears to be the case. So in order to participate in a music competition on Día de Muertos, Miguel “borrows” de la Cruz’s famous guitar, his own having been smashed earlier in the day by his grandmother. But with the very first strum, Miguel is transported to the Land of the Dead. There, he meets departed members of his own family and ultimately, with the help of a trickster named Héctor (Gael García Bernal), de la Cruz himself.

Directed by longtime Pixarian Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3), the tale that unfolds from these beginnings is not terribly innovative (less so, for instance, than 2014’s similarly themed though less well-realized The Book of Life). But it is a tale told with considerable wit—this is one of Pixar’s funniest films—and genuine tenderness. There are a few nice twists and reversals along the way. And while the movie’s conclusion is not difficult to see coming, anyone whose heart is not warmed by it may wish to consult with an cardio-therapist.

But where Coco shines most brightly—literally—is in its vibrant visuals.

Befitting its subject, this is the most musical feature yet produced by Pixar, with songs co-written by Robert Lopez, of The Book of Mormon, Avenue Q, and Frozen fame. There are clever pop-cultural nuggets scattered throughout: a Mac Plus that is condemned as a “devil box” and smashed with a shoe; a gatehouse between the lands of the living and the dead that bears a distinct resemblance to the entrance to Disneyland; a hilariously avant-garde stage show put on by a deceased Frida Kahlo.

But where Coco shines most brightly—literally—is in its vibrant visuals, which rely on a palette of fluorescent greens, blues, yellows, and oranges. In this telling, the Land of the Dead is not a fearsome place, but rather a never-ending skeleton party conducted in a glorious multi-tiered city that rises from sea-level houseboats to vast, imperious towers inhabited by celebrities such as de la Cruz—all of them connected by arched bridges and aerial trams.

Does Coco rise to the heights of Pixar’s very best work? No. But it is a generous, heartfelt film, full of color and music, one that offers a timely Thanksgiving tribute to the intergenerational importance of family. Its very title lovingly derives from the name of Miguel’s oldest living relative, great-grandmother Mamá Coco, whose importance to the story only becomes clear late in the film.

I wish the movie suggested that all was now well with Pixar, but warning signs are, if anything, multiplying. The studio’s next two films will be sequels, Incredibles 2 and an utterly heretical “franchise reboot,” Toy Story 4. With Coco, even the customary delight of a Pixar short before the movie is missing: In its place is “Olaf’s Frozen Adventure,” which whatever its quality (it did not screen for critics) suggests that the studio is being ever-more subsumed into its Disney parent. And the interlocking news stories that Pixar guru John Lasseter is going on leave due to alleged inappropriate behavior and that Rashida Jones left Toy Story 4 over issues of diversity are depressing on almost every level imaginable.

But those are issues to be addressed in the days to come. In the meantime, my advice is to round up the family, take them to Coco, and together give thanks.

 Read complete review at The Atlantic

Pixar hits another jackpot

Deborah Cornelious

A musical and visual masterpiece that celebrates death with vibrancy

A Pixar film lasts forever. It’s a legend that’s never been more true than with the studio’s 19th feature, Coco. After spending months researching the Latin American country, writer-directors Lee Unkrich and Adrian Molina have brought to animated life the visual and sonic splendour of Mexico. The film gets everything bang on, right from an overarching theme that drills in a social message, addictive music, engaging characters and most of all, a celebration of a beautiful culture.

For every wide-eyed child watching, Coco’s resolution of the inner conflict between the pursuit of dreams and your family love will be a heartening lesson. On the other hand, the older audience, whose eyes will also enlarge with the film’s spectacular detail, can bask in the warm glow of nostalgia. Pixar has pushed every boundary when it comes to animation. There’s rich detail and emotion in every frame, from the folds of Dante’s hairless body, the textures of the skeletons to the wrinkles in Miguel’s great-grandmother’s face and the vibration of plucked guitar strings. The film is a journey as much for its protagonist as it is for the audience. You can just about feel the warm sunlight of Miguel’s village of Santa Cecilia to bustling activity of the afterworld. Laughs are supplied aplenty, with wisecracks here and there, to juvenile slapstick comedy. And if you got tired of being hounded by Frozen’s ‘Let it go’, get ready for an avalanche of Coco’s music, because each track is a earworm.

There’s a line in the film, “You know that feeling, there’s a song in the air and it’s playing just for you?” Well, Coco is that feeling and it stays with you long after you’ve watched it.

Read complete review at Hindu

Movie Rating ★★★★☆  

Pixar's vibrant, melancholic adventure is a refreshing return to form

Benjamin Lee

The superficial checklist for a Disney animation usually contains an important moral lesson, a wacky animal sidekick, an asexual romance and at least one frantic chase scene. But buried underneath the bright color palette often lies a bittersweet tone and a surprisingly deft examination of grief. In films from Bambi to The Lion King to Frozen to, most notably, Up, slapstick antics have sat alongside impactful stories of loss, adding rich emotional texture to a light canvas and teaching a younger audience about death without employing a heavy hand.

In Coco, the studio’s latest collaboration with Pixar, the dead have never been so present, quite literally. The story follows Miguel, a Mexican boy who aspires to be a musician – yet in his family, all forms of music are banned. The reason for this extreme mandate can be traced back to his great-great-grandmother, who was abandoned by her singer-songwriter husband so he could follow his dreams and then instilled a hatred of music in following generations as a result. When the annual Day of the Dead comes about, Miguel rebels from those around him and inadvertently finds himself trapped on the other side, an exciting yet dangerous world inhabited by those who have crossed over. He must try to find his way back to the living while also proving his musical talents.

If it all sounds a bit ramshackle, well, for a while, it kind of is. As with some of Pixar’s other original films, such as Inside Out and Wall-E, there’s a complex universe to set up, and within the first 15 minutes of Coco, we’re bombarded with exposition. But there’s a trademark slickness that sells it and while recognizable tropes are present, there’s something warm and comforting about their familiarity, and it helps that they play out within such fantastical, fresh-feeling surroundings.

Profound existential questions are delivered in a brightly colored package, alive with wit, action set pieces and, most importantly, music. Unlike a large number of Disney’s animated offerings, Pixar films have done away with original songs but Coco’s plot allows for a prominent smattering of catchy tunes. One in particular, the frequently replayed Remember Me, has the potential to join the stacked pantheon of much-loved Disney songs with sweetly sad lyrics about life and loss.

The border between the living and the dead, which operates in a similar way to a customs department, also brings up unavoidable real-world comparisons. Trump’s attempts to defame and deport Mexican immigrants cast an offscreen shadow over these scenes, but Coco is focused less on specific politics and more on something broader. After Moana and Queen of Katwe last year, it’s the latest chapter in the studio’s drive to bring more diversity to their catalogue and using an exclusively Latino cast (including Gael García Bernal and Benjamin Bratt) in a film that will reach such a wide audience feels like another important step.

While there’s a previously mentioned adherence to the Pixar playbook of predictable plot elements, the script does manage one genuinely surprising twist in the third act. As the final stretch approaches, there’s also the requisite tug at the heartstrings although it’s delivered with such devastating delicacy that even steely viewers will find themselves moist-eyed. Coco is a rousing, affecting, fun and much-needed return to form after underwhelming Finding Nemo and Cars sequels and will help to ensure that Pixar’s legacy remains intact

 Read complete review at The Guardian

A Colorful Contemplation Of Death, Family, And Legacy

Dani Di Placido

Pixar is back - the bold, creative Coco washes away the bland taste of The Good Dinosaur and Cars 3. While not quite as clever as Inside Out or Wall-E, Coco manages to tell a family-friendly story centered entirely around death, one that reflects on the legacy we leave behind.

But before I sing the film’s praises, I need to rant about the short at the beginning. I’m sure you’ve noticed that Pixar always plays a cute little short before their films, which are always supremely innovative, and sometimes even better than the feature. Well, Coco is preceded by a soulless Frozen spin-off centered around Olaf the irritating snowman. It’s twenty-one minutes long (I felt every second of it), and has, like, fifteen musical numbers, all instantly forgettable.

Anyway, once you make it past the Olaf ordeal, Coco proves to be a pleasant surprise - an emotional, philosophical story of life and death, that despite the gorgeous visuals, doesn’t sugar-coat anything.

Right away, both the importance and the potential danger of respecting one’s heritage is highlighted, and proves to be a poignant theme. Our young protagonist Miguel yearns to play the guitar, but his artistic urges are severely repressed by his family, who hold a bitter grudge against all musicians, passed down through the generations.

It’s pretty heavy stuff. But there isn’t any hint of gothic gloom surrounding this afterlife; it’s a cheerful, misshapen shantytown populated by decorated skeletons, and luridly colored alebrijes, the creatures that guide the souls of the deceased.

The first sight of the overpopulated afterlife is jaw-dropping, but during the second act, the film slows somewhat. Funnily enough, the skeletons aren’t as interesting to look at as Miguel’s fleshy family, and the masses of bones and fairy lights start to fade into the background.

It’s at this point that I noticed the younger children in the theatre were growing bored. Pixar always includes plenty of details for the adults to enjoy (thankfully), and Coco definitely leans toward older viewers, more than usual. Children younger than six might find it difficult to relate to the majority of Coco, and the fact that there isn’t an excess of humor doesn’t help keep the little ones in their seats. But things pick up again toward the end, and the finale is another bittersweet, Pixar patented tear-jerker.

Younger children might not be quite as entertained as you, but Coco is the best children’s animation I’ve seen since Kubo and the Two Strings. For a child struggling to understand the death of a grandparent, or even a beloved pet, this film offers an in-depth introspection on what it means to live a full life, and how memories can keep the deceased from disappearing entirely

 Read complete review at Forbes

Movie Rating ★★★★☆  

Coco’ puts a fresh face on the dependable Pixar formula

 Stephanie Merry 

Pixar is already being rewarded for its inclusivity on “Coco,” the studio’s 19th film. The story takes place in Mexico, and when the movie debuted there late last month, it quickly became the country’s highest-grossing film of all time.

Despite a slow start overflowing with exposition about the meaning of Día de los Muertos — the annual celebration to honor the dead — “Coco” finds its groove with the story of Miguel Rivera (Anthony Gonzalez), a spirited 12-year-old, who makes music everywhere he goes. He’s even fashioned a rudimentary guitar from nails and pieces of wood. The only problem is that even a whistle or a snap of the fingers is strictly forbidden in his home. Ever since his great-great-grandfather abandoned his wife, Imelda, and daughter, Coco, to become a troubadour, all tunes have been prohibited; years later, even as an aged Coco (Ana Ofelia Murguía) appears to be at death’s door, generations of the Riveras still take the ban seriously.

The premise seems a bit outlandish, but it does what it needs to: lays the groundwork for the central conflict when, on Día de los Muertos, Miguel’s family discovers his secret passion. After a blowup argument, he runs away and ends up accidentally crossing over to the realm where the dead roam.

This is where Pixar does what it does best — creating fanciful new worlds. In this case, the land of the dead is where remarkably non-creepy skeletons hang out among ostentatiously colorful spirit animals, and a strict bureaucracy dictates which deceased members of society are allowed to travel back to the living world once a year to spy on their descendants. (According to local laws, only former humans whose photos appear on a family altar are allowed to go.)

Mostly though, the studio sticks to a formula that works with its moving story about the importance of family. There’s also, as always, an adorable sidekick — in this case a kooky stray dog named Dante — and stunning visuals. Some of the animation in “Coco” is so detailed that it looks photorealistic, particularly the exquisite wrinkled face of the elderly title character.

In recent years, Pixar has started embracing the sequel-mania that’s taken over Hollywood, even as audiences are getting franchise fatigue. “Coco” floats into theaters like some much-needed fresh air. Not only is it a wholly original story, but it also honors a culture that’s so often overlooked by the movie industry. That alone might have made it a hit, but “Coco” has so much more to offer.

Read full review at Washington Post