LA Cinema Youth

For those unable to access it, this is my interview with Mr. Coppola from a while back:

For my first interview, I may have bought off a little more than I could chew. Christopher Coppola gave me a call last Thursday to conduct this interview over the phone, with only my iTalk to record it. Coppola’s obviously a man with a great amount of excitement about what he does, and it showed through in this interview to a fault. He made lengthy statements aplenty. Yet, in an industry where so many care so little, having people like Christopher Coppola who seem to care too much is a heartening thing. Overall, whether you agree with him or not, this interview gives a good overview of his views on film as an art and a business. Enjoy.

-For those unfamiliar with it, what is PAH Fest and how is it different from other film festivals?

PAH Fest is where we bring the concept of Hollywood to the people, let them feel, let them know that they’re celebrities and they have a voice and they have the creative process in them as well. One of the things about Hollywood that I can’t stand is that it’s exclusive, so part of what PAH does is we make it inclusive.

What makes this festival different…for two reasons: One, it’s the only festival that is a real-world cyber-world where we actually go into communities and work with people, focus them, digitally empower them to tell their stories…and then the other aspect is it’s shared online and people around the world see it and then they talk about it on the PAH Nation forums, so it’s both of those things. There’s a lot of festivals that are just online festivals where you never meet the people, and you’re never sure if the person you think you’re talking to is the person you’re talking to. One of the things that PAH does is that it really celebrates our human spirit and uses the digital media to bring us together and know who you’re talking to.

The second thing about this festival is that it’s all about the new media, and a lot of people are afraid of it, and what we do is we show you how to use some of the latest technology and focus you to be able to use it to communicate your voice and what community you’re from in either a fiction or non-fiction kind of way, and that’s good. It’s sort of like a focused Youtube, because in Youtube everything goes; you have to look through a bunch of stuff like moms feeding their babies corn mush, or look through things like pornography. And there’s a place for Youtube, obviously. People want to do that. My idea’s to think about some of the contests that we’re doing, some of the topics, to really respect the creative process and then to share it with the rest of the world.

-Where did you get the inspiration for PAH Fest?

Well, what happened was is I was one of the main judges and mentors for a festival called Flix on 66 which was in New Mexico, and I have a little house there, and I was helpful in setting up the whole film incentive there. But I got really tired of just seeing film school students submit scripts and make shorts that are primarily being made to get something else, and for me that was a real problem. Like, no matter if you’re making a little cell phone piece or you’re making a 100 million dollar movie, you go at it exactly in the same way and with the same sort of respect. You don’t use one as a stepping-stone to another. I said, well, I don’t just want to do film school students, I want to do so-called “common people.” That kind of thing. Let’s see what a plumber has to say. Let’s see what a librarian has to say. They can make a movie. So, at that festival we did a Common Man category and a construction worker from New Jersey submitted, and he was someone who didn’t want to come out once he won because he lived in his basement and he was horribly electrocuted and essentially rewired and felt like he was a Frankenstein. So, I said, you won, you submitted, you gotta come to New Mexico. And, after much talk, he did come out in the sun. Very large man, imposing, and definitely rewired. Not comfortable or confident around other people, but in the process of me coaching him and helping him to tell his story, he got very confident and very comfortable. It actually healed him, the creative process healed him. I said, Wow! We gotta be doing this for everybody around the world, communities and individuals. So, I basically broke off from that festival and created PAH, which made everybody kinda like part of the Hollywood process using old Hollywood craft & storytelling in the new media world.

-Where’s PAH Fest held?

PAH Fest is held all around the world. It’s been doing that for two & a half years. We usually find hubs to do it in, like right now we’re doing PAH Fest 2008 on the campus of L.A. City College. We’ve done it in San Francisco. We just came back from PAH Fest Bay Area where we had two hubs, a high-school art school and a San Francisco Art Institute. Sometimes we do it in conjunction with another festival or we do it at art galleries. When we did Mini PAH in the high desert we did it in a coffee shop, an art gallery, and a motel all at the same time, so it’s really a traveling festival that looks for hubs to work with to bring the people of the community to the hub so they can use this new arena to share their stories.

-How has PAH Fest changed the lives of its participants?

Well you told you a little about the New Jersey construction worker, and he was somebody that was not confident and lived in his basement, so when he participated, he got very confident and doesn’t live in his basement anymore. I think that everybody else that has participated have all been inspired and have realized that they have an artist inside themselves, that their human worth is just as much as any Hollywood celebrity and that they have the right to share that with the rest of the world, and the fact that they completed something in such a short period of time really makes them proud.

-What are some of the most moving of these experiences?

Well, I would say definitely being the coach for Doug Arnie, the construction worker, and then having people at the awards ceremonies tell me how much it meant to them that we’re doing this. It always feels worthwhile when people come up to me, because I’m pretty accessible for one of the Coppolas. I’m actually out there talking to people in the street, whereas my family members either can’t be or don’t want to be. But I appreciate people coming up to me saying that really meant a lot to them and they’re gonna continue on and enrich their voices and grow. That means a lot to me. There are some pieces of What is Left that was made by a high school student in albequrie and she wanted to tell a story about her father who passed away and its totally moving. It’s from the heart and it communicates to the heart, and it kinda blows me away when I see that and then when I go and have to look at students films at the directors guild. Yeah they look great, they’re slick, the lighting’s great, the makeups great, but there’s nothing there. There’s nothing from the heart to the heart, and then you look at what this young lady from a high school did and…yeah. It’s not slick, the craft is a little sub-par, but it works. The story is intense and it goes right to your heart. So that makes me happy, and some of these people they continue doing it using this technology because it’s available to everybody and its easy to keep doing it on your own using your cell phone to keep making little films that are true to yourself, and perhaps they’ll become forces in Hollywood. I know one gentlemen who won the PAH fest Chicago for a poem piece that he did which won on the festival as the best mobile flick and he decided he liked it so much that he’s raising money and making his own little feature.

-What inspired you to move into this business?

First of all, I grew up in a family, even though I was sort of on the outskirts, being my father was an educator, which is kind of interesting because what I do is I mix education with entertainment which is important to me, so I’m using both what my father taught and what my uncle does and has taught me. But my dad would show great movies, Fellini movies, silent movies, when we were kids and then at the same time you’re aware that your uncle made The Godfather and all these movies, and you’re impressed with that and also people would start responding to you just because of your last name. I just thought, it’s a new art form, I love music, I want to combine the two. I went to art school, and in the process of developing my voice somebody said, well you oughta try this in Hollywood, and that was really part of it I did. Doing my first feature, sort of Dino De Laurentiis Draculas Widow, which was a very intense experience coming right out of art school, but I enjoyed the process. I enjoyed working with a big group of people to make something, create something. I would say part of it is growing up in a family that makes movies, and the other part of it it’s a modern medium to be able to express yourself to as many people as possible, and thirdly I love genre movies. I love B movies as well as A movies, and I like going to drive-ins and I have fun with it. I’m the one Coppola who is able to do that. So that’s part of it. And I feel like I’m good at it. I enjoy working with people, so I think people enjoy working with me.

-Overall, what would you say your mission as a filmmaker is?

My mission as a filmmaker is to become the next producer-director like Roger Corman, because this doesn’t exist anymore. But to be a digital Roger Corman where we use new media to make very low-budget genre movies, letting students work with professionals to get their feet wet, to learn how to do it. Basically that’s where Francis and James Cameron and Ron Howard all learned it was by working with the Corman studio, low-budget studio. I’d like to redo that and then make a slate of movies every year that has its brand & stamp that has a message. Like a genre movie with a message, every single one. Then get that going. In the old days if you saw an RKO film or an MGM film you knew what you were gonna see; now it’s all a big blur because the brands are all the same and I’d like this to  have its own brand and then build up to where I get to do some bigger movies on my own, like doing MacBeth with motorcycles, things like that.

-There are those who call you the DigiVangelist. Why digital?

Because I have embraced digital completely. Back in 1998 a film that I made was completely destroyed. The negative was destroyed, and I was definitely a film snob then but I became a real believer in digital because it’s saved my films, so I’ve embraced it completely. I’ve embraced the fact that it’s the great equalizer; anybody can get cameras and software and actually make some movies. But I also think more than that I think they call me DigiVangelist because I really do digitally empower people from PAH. I get people not to be afraid of digital, but actually make it a tool rather than just being plugged into it because a lot of people just use digital as a controlling thing, playing games and being plugged in and what I like to do…I mean, new school could care less about old school and old school is afraid of new school and I try to blend the two, bring those generations together with digital. For example, if there’s a bunch of teenagers that have no idea what their elders feel or think, there’s a real disconnect there. You give these kids a cell phone that hass used video you create a contest making them go up to the hill and go where the elders are (I’m giving you kind of a Native American thing here) the Native Americans used to have the highest rate of suicide because there’s a real disconnect with their elders and that’s a spiritual society and most of the kids feel they’re nobodies because they don’t have a lot of money, but if you give them a cell phone they think they’re somebody because of the materialistic nature of our society – you give them a cellphone and say, “look, go up on the hill and do a little piece on the elders and you’ll win a prize,” so they’re all excited about having a cell phone, they go up on the hill and they do a piece and they make a connection, they’re making a connection with their elder, and it just so happens there’s a piece afterward that they both can look at, so I think that’s why a lot of people call me a DigiVangelist, because I feel digital can bring us together, and unfortunately a lot of what’s happening with digital is it’s separating us even more, so that’s part of it.

-So what are some of the possible cons of digital filmmaking?

Well, there really isn’t. I don’t see any cons. I do see, in terms of the accessibility of being there, that there’s gonna be a lot of stuff made in the same idea of, Hey! If I make a low-budget George Lucas movie maybe I’ll get a bigger movie, and there’s going to be a lot of junk made, and it’s gonna be a huge glut, and it’s going to be harder to get things seen because there’s so much out there, but I think that completely is lesser concerned than the fact that people, if they’re true to themselves, can use digital technology to keep developing their craft and their voice. Again, they can do it very cheaply, but take it seriously like you are doing a big budget movie, and to me that’s amazing. To me, if you can get everybody to use this latest technology that is all around the world, to share their creative process that’s unique to them, I think that’s a good thing. It’s like MacBeth (I bring this up a lot) a great Shakespeare modern play, he’s an awesome warrior and then when he’s forced to be king everybody loses. The whole community dies. So be who you are, be yourself, and that’s a major positive of digital because it’s the big art form now, it’s the big communicator, and now everybody has the chance to tap into it, whereas before, they didn’t. I mean, from a Hollywood standpoint, for a person that is making their business in the Hollywood way, it’s a problem because there’s going to be a glut, but Hollywood’s changing, it’s all changing and it is becoming a new media, and in the long run it’s going to be great to have new voices.

-Who would you consider your biggest influences on your career and art?

Well I don’t really have completely…I mean I have influences. I would say my music teacher, Dr. Bernie Childs who was Aaron Copeland’s main pupil, he was an influence because he basically said, write what you like. Be who you are. And he opened up that for me. I think also George Putchar* who was my film teacher up in San Fransisco. He influenced me in that he made everybody feel like a star. He would take a street person off and put lipstick on her and make her look like Marilyn Monroe in a funny little movie and that person felt like a star. So that’s kind of like what I’m doing. In terms of things I like to listen to that get me excited: Stravinsky, as a kid I would listen to Stravinsky a lot. I liked the intensity and that percussiveness. In terms of movies that I like to look at over and over again, I would say Fellini’s La Strada because it’s really moving and there’s a sense that there’s more to it. There’s something really sublime about it. I remember somebody asking me if Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ really brought me closer to God, and I said absolutely not. Look at La Strada, look at To Kill a Mockingbird at the end when Gregory Peck is talking about justice and race, and it’s moving. And that kind of filmmaking and storytelling, which is kind of really sincere, is what brings me closer to God. So I would say films like that that I still look at. And then I have fun looking at Attack of the Giant Leeches, I enjoy that. What I enjoy about that is that there’s nothing pretentious about it and you can just kind of enjoy yourself with a beer looking at these movies, and I think that’s important as well. So, I would say the whole drive-in movie concept is an influence, and then these A-movies that go right to your heart are also an influence, and maybe I try to combine those two.

-What are you most proud of from your career so far?

Oh, that’s a big one. That I haven’t changed. That I just do what I do, that I’m known as somebody that just does what he does and a lot of people are scared of me. Like when I was directing America’s Most Wanted I would really get creative and really push the envelope a little bit and after a while they started getting mad at me and saying to reel it in, then I said, “What difference does it make if you’re catching the criminal?” Might as well be creative and have some fun and I’m not doing it to be silly I’m doing it because I think it makes sense. An example would be we had to do one on a mafia Paul Leguza* in New York, and how they were using little kids to rob banks so that they wouldn’t go to jail because they were kids, and I found that really despicable, but also they were using me because of the fact that I’m related to the guy that made The Godfather so they were trying to advertise that to get more viewers, but what I did, I really thought about it, and I would have little things like when they gave out the guns they used a booster seat, they would bring it up on the table and have all the guns in it. Obviously, they didn’t do that, but that was symbolic to the kids. During the big shoot-out, I had desks, old desks, student desks that the kids would hide behind. Obviously, the desks weren’t there, but symbolically it still said, hey, these are kids. Most importantely, what really bothered them was when they were figuring out the whole bankrobbery, the next big bankrobbery, they bring a pizza out at the end with bullet and gun parts for toppings, so that really bothered them. Nobody eats bullets. Why would you do that? And I said, “Well, look, you only have seventy seconds to make a visual statement.” That statement was killing somebody is like eating a slice of pizza. They could care less. So obviously, I don’t just do this stuff to be weird. I’m looking for imagery and ideas that sell the point through and I never stop doing that. I’ve always done that and that has bothered a lot of people. I did a lot of kid shows and the producer really loved what I was doing if I was really creative and entertaining, but the big studio was afraid because they thought I was somebody you couldn’t control and tell you what to do their way, and there’s some truth to that, and I would keep saying, “As long as it’s entertaining, I can be myself and grow my voice and I’m happy.” So I think I’m most proud that I stayed true to myself. I’ve done what I’ve wanted to do and I’m still here doing it. I haven’t given up.

*Spelling may be incorrect

I hope everyone’s had a great Christmas/Channukah/Ch-wanza this year. 2008 may not have been a great year for society as a whole, with the economy and only a few stand-out films to love, but 2009 looks to be at least a partial improvement, with a new president and a movie release list which considerably outranks this year’s.

One genre which seems as if it could come back from its current slump is animation, with new planned releases from Henry Selick, Pixar, and Disney with its first cel-animated film since Home on the Range, (does anyone else even remember that?) as well as two Studio Ghibli films making their US debut. Of these films, Coraline is the one highest on my list, since Selick makes features so infrequently and 1-out-of-4 times he makes Monkeybone. I also have high hopes that Disney’s Princess and the Frog will transcend the corporate hold of the Disney suits upon their own poor artists and bring Disney animation back from the grave. It’s fairly certain that Pixar and Hayao Miyazaki’s respective films will be worthwhile, (though Hayao’s son Goro has received harsher criticism for his film) but it’s the excitement of new American cel and stop-motion films that makes me the most giddy.

For, lo, this decade has not been kind to this beloved genre of filmmaking. Shrek, for all its inventiveness, killed the industry in tandem with the failure of Atlantis: The Lost Empire, an interesting and brilliantly directed film without much of a script. Thus, Dreamworks and the rest of the industry has committed itself to obnoxious side characters and pop culture references without incorporating any of the intelligence or heart which seperates Pixar’s 3-dimensional films from the dubious zeitgeist.

Yet, I believe the industry will return shortly. Though Dreamworks’ Kung Fu Panda and Disney’s Bolt weren’t quite masterpieces, they showed far more soul than anything either company had made in years. I don’t expect Monsters vs. Aliens to improve much, but if I was wrong about these films then I could very well be wrong about that one. My friend Nicholas Zabaly compared Bolt to The Great Mouse Detective, and it may be so. While The Great Mouse Detective was not among the great Disney films, it was far above anything else the company made between Robin Hood and The Little Mermaid with its skillful use of CGI and one of the better villains in the company’s filmography. It marked a rejuvenation of Disney animation (right after the hopelessly mediocre Oliver & Compan), and we can only hope that Bolt marks a similar shift.

Now, I’ve a bone to pick with my beloved Academy, more specifically those in charge of the Oscar nominations. It was a great step to give animation its own category, but what would make an even greater improvement would be to drop the category and simply nominate animation as equal to live-action. I think this year has produced a great candidate to kickstart just such a practice: WALL-E.

I didn’t recieve many gifts this Christmas. However, I did get a DVD copy of WALL-E, which delighted me quite a bit. Far be it for me to spoil my top ten of ‘08, but rest assured that WALL-E is in a very high position.

On second viewing, I loved it just as much as the first. However, while the story and characters compelled me the first time, it was the technical wizardry which really popped here. Not that I had ignored the brilliant, Roger Deakins-inspired cinematography or boggling detail the first time, but here I could appreciate the thorough animation to a greater extent. Everything about the ruined Earth amazes me, from how videos and billboards manage to deliver exposition seamlessly to the geographic complexity. All must gaze on this achievement and despair.

Yet, I was not coldly analyzing this film. As a matter of fact, I noticed how many truly touching moments were included here, some of which hadn’t hit me the first time. Even the simple action of bumping a BNL citizen out of her material stupor carries an emotional weight. These citizens could have been the source of a multitude of bathroom jokes, but they instead become quite dimensional.

It’s guaranteed that Pixar will be nominated for best animated film, but must that be all it’s eligible for? Are there other categories it could share with this year’s largely lackluster list of live-action releases?

Some, but not others. It’s not unreasonable to predict nominations for sound design or best song, but it’s difficult to imagine an animated film being nominated for best picture, much less one set in a world of science-fiction. I’ve been told there are rules which prevent an animated film from being nominated in this category, and if so then the Academy can’t be expected to break them in time for the announcement of the nominees. However, it is my opinion that the rules should be changed.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Fantasia. Toy Story. Each of these films were placed within AFI’s two 100 Years 100 Movies events. None of these films were nominated for best picture in their respective years. Despite some of my disagreements with AFI’s list, I commend their voters for allowing animation to be presented. For their former list, I would have added Pinocchio and Beauty and the Beast, and for their latter list I would have include each of Brad Bird’s films. These are to name only a few. Of the above, only Beauty and the Beast recieved a best picture nomination (rightly so, and it’s still the best animated musical around). Far be it for me to consider the Oscars the ultimate judge of what the best films of the year are, but the show’s impact is undeniable considering it’s made up of industry professionals.
America only occasionally steps beyond the bounds of family musicals, and more-so in recent years than before. Yet, even when such is the case, there’s always a need to include quirky comedic characters to hold the attention of the kids, hardly a bad thing in and of itself but one that seems to be prevalent in nearly every film.

WALL-E was a film that appealed to kids for its characters and storytelling, but it hit with critics because of its themes of natural awareness and putting one’s heart before society’s “directive.” This is an adult and sophisticated work that further develops the thematic substance of Pixar’s previous work. Even the maligned Cars featured messages of the cost of allowing “progress” to overtake soul. This extends beyond Pixar, and though perhaps the ultimate themes outrank the initial intention, this merely brings it closer to live-action in its maturity.

Animation must be made respectable in the minds of the general public. WALL-E was a film that appealed to kids for its characters and storytelling, but it hit with critics because of its themes of natural awareness and putting one’s heart before society’s “directive.” This is an adult and sophisticated work that further develops the thematic substance of Pixar’s previous work. Even the maligned Cars featured messages of the cost of allowing “progress” to overtake soul. This extends beyond Pixar, and though perhaps the ultimate themes outrank the initial intention, this merely brings it closer to live-action in its maturity. “It’s a kid’s movie,” should be abolished as an excuse for poor animated films, because there is no such thing as a “kid’s film,” and simply because animation appeals to children should not confine it to entertaining one specific age group. These films have real layers to them. Perhaps the Academy, every other awards group, and the industry itself will one day wise up to the potential of this art form and put it on equal footing with the rest of cinema.

And if a word I said was untrue, may grand pianos and anvils drop from the sky.

As the readers of this site may or may not be aware, the first part of my interview with Academy Program coordinator Randy Haberkamp has been posted on youtube. Our discussion currently only regards his job and its importance, but upcoming sections will address other subjects. One of these will be his Films of 1908 event, which is gearing up for a San Francisco showing. Perhaps I can persuade those in the area to attend.

Overall, it was an exhilarating night which surpassed last year’s Films of 1907, both in terms of the craft and ingenuity put into each film. It was a more economic event, of course, but one packed with history and awe.

Here are some highlights from the event. I do not remember the exact order in which these films were shown, so all the enraged masses will just have to make due.

La Farfalle (Butterflies) - This is a reason to see the event in its own right. Butterflies is an example of early film coloring, which is quite shoddy, but gives the film a surreal edge unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s jaw-droppingly beautiful, even by today’s standards, and I see much than modern filmmakers can and should rip off. The final shot is particularly amazing.

The Great Pumpkin Chase -  Some pumpkins get loose, some market people are in pursuit, their group goes larger as the chase continues, a goat makes things difficult, and a happy ending eventually settles into place. The pumpkins seem to have a mind of their own, as they climb over obstacles with startling ability. If only for the skill with which the cast and crew make pumpkins come to life, this one is essential viewing.

Fantasmagorie - Emile Cohl’s early experiment in moving drawings is essential viewing for all animation enthusiasts. There is no story to describe, unfortunately. It’s something that must be experienced.
The Thieving Hand - A favorite of mine from the event, The Thieving Hand tells the story of a crippled beggar who purchases a clockwork limb with a penchant for superbly executed pickpocketing. He tries to dump the thing, but it retains that mind of its own. Vitagraph Pictures employs some very inventive use of stop-motion.

The Adventures of Dollie - Directed by D.W. Griffith. A little girl is kidnapped by evil gypsies (you see, controversy was very rare for Griffith) and placed in a barrel. She’s dropped in a river and floats downstream back to her parents. Not so much an “adventure” as a “wild ride.”

After Many Years - One of Griffith’s most famous silent shorts, certainly his biggest of that year. Based on an Alfred Lord Tennyson poem, (though with a happier, somewhat hilarious ending) this film chronicles the story of a man who is marooned and forced away from his wife. It’s certainly epic stuff for 1908, perhaps the first to make use of editing to bring two distant locales next to each other.

Don Juan - An early Pathe release that shows off coloring methods as advanced as Butterflys, if not with the same level of invention. Don Juan witnesses some ghostly happenings. I’m not sure what else happens, but I’m pretty sure he’s having an affair with someone.

The Last Days of Pompeii - A fairly ridiculous film, but one notable for its ambition. A beautiful, blind female beggar is taken in by a wealthy Greek aristocrat and is fooled by a schemer into believing he loves her. There are some wild and inventive visuals here, even if the filming is frustratingly theatrical.

In addition to these gems and others, the program supplied us with glimpses of partial films whose footage has been largely lost. A number appeared to have been worthwhile experiences and technical leaps from the year before.

If anyone gets an opportunity to see these, surely do so. If not, they should try to attend next year’s program, for it will doubtlessly display the further developing art of cinema.

A toast to those brave, stupid souls who acted like idiots in front of hundreds of spectators so that we could act like idiots in front of millions.

This was not written by me. It was composed by an acquaintance of mine, Nicholas R. Zabaly, as the test for a possible animation section of the site. Some interesting points are brought up that audiences may not have contemplated, whether they agree or not. I’m certainly looking forward to what Nicholas offers us later.

Disney’s Bolt as Confirmation of Traditional Cultural Values
By Nicholas Zabaly

By now, much has been made of the controversy over Bolt, Disney’s animated hit of the holiday season. Disney watchers and animation fans already know of the difficulties involved in production, which resulted in Feature Animation head honcho / Pixar guru John Lasseter removing director and original creator Chris Sanders (of Lilo and Stitch fame) first from the film and then the Disney company, and ever since strong and divided opinions have dogged the film (no pun intended). While there is potentially a book waiting to be written about the behind-the-scenes scuffles surrounding Bolt (and the other post-Lasseter Disney animated films), and it remains interesting to speculate about what kind of a film Sanders would have given us, the movie we did get is a notable work, one which, like The Great Mouse Detective before it, may be a sign of a new golden age on the horizon at Disney. Moreover, it also does something else that’s very interesting: unlike many recent Disney films, it has a strong (though subconscious) commentary on society, and despite possession of a decidedly commercial bent (observe the casting of Miley Cyrus in a lead role), it is a work that goes out of its way to condemn the often fake and inauthentic nature of Hollywood and present-day American life. In urging a return to simpler and more honest times, Bolt strives to be something quite rare in the modern cinema scene: an old-fashioned Disney movie.

Bolt (voiced by John Travolta) is the canine star of his own action TV show, but doesn’t know none of it is real. Convinced he has super powers and must constantly save his human owner Penny (voiced by Miley Cyrus), his entire life is an elaborately constructed sham, all for the benefit of TV producers and the network. When the cameras are off, his wiser feline co-stars, who play the pets of the show’s villain, torment him in his trailer. So, when Bolt accidentally escapes, is knocked unconscious, and sent across the country to New York, his entire life and set of values (as a super-dog) must be revaluated and in many cases discarded in favor of new realities.

Bolt first encounters a group of New York pigeons, the leader of whom is always just on the verge of recognizing him from TV. They lead him to Mittens, a local alley cat who’s been running an extortion racket for food, using the birds as her literal pigeons. Bolt catnaps Mittens (voiced by Susie Essman), believing her to be an agent of evil like the other cats he’s encountered, then starts his journey back to Hollywood to rescue Penny (in the show’s last episode she was left in dire straights). In order to do so, he must cross the entire United States, no small feat for a dog whose survival sense is on a very short leash. Fortunately, he quickly acquires a new companion: Rhino the hamster (voiced by Disney story artist and non-professional actor Mark Walton), a huge fan of Bolt’s TV show. Together, the motley crew embarks on a road trip, discovering along the way the oft harped upon but rarely well-expressed ideas of family togetherness, friendly trust, and real (versus screen-acted) emotion. What sets Bolt apart from other similar films is that it actually works, thanks in large part to a sympathetic and well-crafted script by Dan Fogelman and Chris Williams. Along the way numerous opportunities are given, usually through the intervention of Mittens, for Bolt to lose his unintentional Hollywood phoniness and preposterous delusions and learn be a real dog.

Discoveries of this authenticity come in strikingly traditional places. At one point, Bolt, Mittens, and Rhino play house in a traveling model home, discovering (or remembering) their family roles in much the same fashion as children did decades ago. Mittens introduces Bolt to the ‘dog-truths’ of drinking from the toilet and, in a more uplifting moment, sticking his head out the car window, clichés as old as the movies and yet still somehow affecting when they are discovered for the first time. Bolt, in his expected superhero role, has been too busy to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, much like The Jungle Book’s Mowgli who must be introduced to “The Bare Necessities” by jungle-bum Baloo. In discovering his true self, Bolt throws off layer after layer of his ingrained behaviors to get at the authentic animal beneath. Other moments come during a montage sequence in the middle of the film. This important section serves as the visual representation of the road trip, with the central idea of ‘seeing America’ referenced again and again by the numerous road signs and iconic landmarks. Reinforcing this are the scenes of the animal characters growing closer to one another, forming their own family unit out of their initial dysfunction. This sequence really brings home the message: family closeness comes from a result of national awareness, and more importantly a sense of where you fit within that nation. Beyond plotting necessity, the fact that Bolt, Mittens, and Rhino are each from a different part of the country emphasizes that genuine connections can be made despite regional differences. Mittens even has the idea of settling down: when the group reaches Las Vegas, she prepares an ‘American dream home’ for them: an assembly of cardboard boxes on the outskirts of the Strip, a sort of animal equivalent of the houses now being foreclosed at record rates. But Bolt rejects this realization of the playhouse. Though by now he’s come to know he’s not a superhero, he still wants to return to Penny, his ‘person,’ who has raised him since puppy-hood.

Mittens is not sympathetic. Herself an abandoned stray, she’s given up any notion that humans can be a part of her ‘American dream.’ She fights with Bolt, accusing him of regressing into delusion by thinking that Penny’s love was ever real. After the two part ways, it seems the family unit has fractured. But surprisingly, it’s Rhino to the rescue. In his genuine admiration for Bolt, he won’t let his friend continue on alone. At his urging, Mittens goes on to Los Angeles. Here, at the studio, is the final showdown.

Penny, having been convinced to continue the TV show in Bolt’s absence and accept another dog to fill his role, has been going through the motions. Her superficial, self-centered agent (voiced by Greg Germann) continually disregards her desires for his own, smothering any objection by telling her to “put a pin in it.” Nonetheless, Penny endures, if for no other reason than to keep the network executives from firing the show’s crew. Into this milieu Bolt returns, only to see Penny, his beloved friend, embrace the replacement show dog with words of affection. Crushed, he leaves, remembering Mitten’s words. Mittens, however, has witnessed the whole scene and knows that Penny is acting. She stops Bolt, and urges him to return to the studio lot. He does so just in time: the replacement dog has started a fire in the sound stage, endangering Penny. In scenes reminiscent of the recent Universal Studios fire, Bolt has his chance to be a hero, saving Penny not with an explosive ‘super bark,’ but by being a real, normal dog with a real, normal bark. The exploitative agent tries to turn the near-tragedy into a marketing bonanza, and is finally given a square kick of human decency by Penny’s mother. Penny and Bolt both quit the show, and retire to normal life in a picturesque farmhouse in the country. Together with Mittens and Rhino, they make up a new family unit, free of the fakery and superficial lifestyle of Hollywood (and by extension, the modern world that thrives on its fantasies). The American heartland is once more the center and symbol of family connectedness. More importantly, though, the pigeons roosting outside their house (the country cousins of the earlier New York group) question whether they’ve seen Bolt somewhere before, and conclude that they never have. The film ends on this remarkable note. As a rejection of fame and an embrace of the ordinary, it is better to live an ordinary, simple, traditional life with those you care about and who care for you than all the fame, notoriety, or ‘superpowers’ in the world. The real superpower is having a genuine emotional bond, and the real hero is the quintessential American dog.

Whether or not Bolt’s traditional themes jive with modern audiences, or whether viewers will even be consciously aware of them, are debatable. However, just as previous Disney gems have banked on the definition of family relationships (such as how King Triton must learn to let daughter Ariel have her own life in The Little Mermaid), Bolt presses its moral points on familial themes. In order for Penny and Bolt to have an authentic relationship, said relationship must be free of the modern superficiality and self-aggrandizement (and the delusions they create) represented by Hollywood. Perhaps the most fascinating question the film leaves is what kind of relationships the writers and directors have, as animation people, to the larger Hollywood world. Even if on close viewing the message seems a little old-fashioned, it offers interesting considerations on contemporary life, and certainly inspires far more thought than the typical talking animal movie. Whatever skeptical animation fans may say, Bolt has successfully achieved ‘message movie’ status, an accomplishment for any modern American studio film, much less an animated one.