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Cars June 18, 2006 |
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“I know’d I made a good choice,” says the rusty, intellectually deficient junkyard tow truck to the shiny red racecar, somewhere in the middle of “Cars”. “In what?” questions the fast racecar named Lightening McQueen, held over in a sleepy ghost town on his way to California to compete in the biggest race in his life. “In my best friend,” answers the sweet, lovable tow truck named Mater, prompting the heretofore self-centered big-shot racecar to crack a huge, unexpected smile, and likewise in the audience, who have come to expect this kind of pitch perfect sentimentality from the creative geniuses at Pixar, a lump in the throat, and a smile of our own, because not only does the moment capture the film’s unbelievably warm sensibility towards its characters, it carries with it Pixar’s great motto for all of its seven brilliant films, that there’s nothing quite as special, or as needed, as somebody, or in this case, some junky old tow truck, that loves you for who you are, inside, not what you project on the outside. On the outside, Lightening McQueen is a selfish hot-shot who cares only about his image in the public as racing’s rookie golden boy, but on the inside he’s a lonely kid without a friend in the world, so when he gets sidetracked to dusty Radiator Springs, and is sentenced to community service after causing some major damage to the ghostly downtown area, the sudden presentation of kind, non-exploitative, potential friends is, slowly, a kind of refreshing second chance at an entirely new life experience. It’s no wonder he smiles, you would too, anyone would when you suddenly realize, after a superficial life of lights, agents, sponsors, faceless crowds, corporate shills, and meaningless shiny racing hardware, that there’s more to life than winning the big race, and it starts with a friend by your side, and an understanding that a wandering soul can only truly be happy when it’s found a place to stop and rest. “It’s kind of nice,” says “Cars’” redeemed wandering soul, bleeding a bit of philosophy into the equation, “to slow down every once in a while”. Brother, it sure is. Directed by Pixar chief John Lasseter, who has directed four of the studios’ seven memorably touching family comedies, including the groundbreaking “Toy Story” and its equally as special sequel, “Cars” is a film set in an America that is drunk on speed, the speed of racecars, the quickness of interstate driving, the rapidity of expansion (which always looms large in the great American story line), and the impenetrable rush of instant celebrity worship. McQueen (Owen Wilson) has just nearly won the famed Piston Cup, tying with legendary also ran Chick Hicks (Michael Keaton) and all-time racing hero The King (Richard Petty), and after a photo-op with his hated sponsor Rust-eze (“I hate rusty cars, it’s not good for my image”), he’s packed away in his cozy Mack truck to make the trip to California for a three-way race to decide the champion, and land a coveted sponsorship with Dinoco, the circuit’s richest sponsor. After selfishly refusing to allow his driver to take a nap, McQueen is tossed from the flatbed in the middle of the night and winds up scared and lonely in the once-thriving Route 66 town of Radiator Springs, where he accidentally wreaks havoc on the town’s street paving in an inspired bit of slapstick exposition. It’s here in Radiator Springs that Lightening begins to discover the finer essentials to life, but not before throwing a fit when the town’s judge, Doc Hudson (Paul Newman), a vintage 1951 Hudson Hornet, sentences him to fix the pavement before he can leave for his big race. “Don’t leave me,” he says to two lost pedestrians who have wandered off of the main highway, “I’m in Hillbilly Hell, my IQ’s dropping by the second; I’m becoming one of them.” Of course his petulance wears off when Mater (“like to-mater, without the to”) issues his unexpected declaration of friendship, the town Porche (Bonnie Hunt) takes him for a drive on the “Mother Road” and shows him the quaintness of open driving and nature loving, the hilariously frantic Ferrari-loving Italian tire dealer Luigi (Tony Shalhoub) outfits him with snazzy new white-rimmed radials, and when the crusty Hornet, an old racecar taken off the track in his prime by a bad accident, imparts in him the lessons he’ll need to win the race, and become a better individual. All that, and you get the feeling, in one precious night scene where Mater takes him into the fields to tip tractors, that all Lightening McQueen really needed to change his attitude was simply somebody to hang out with besides corporate honchos and suck-ups, and what he gets in Radiator Springs isn’t just one friend, but an entire family, and like the raccoon in “Over the Hedge” finding solace with the woodland creatures he originally planned to do his bidding, McQueen falls headlights first into the comfort, and security, of the extended gaggle of autos. Typical of all Pixar classics, “Cars” features stunning animation (the race scenes are fast and furious, while the town scenes are gorgeously serene), and brilliant voice work from a talented roster of stars, but the film gets its life from the perfectly formed characters in the screenplay and a sense of nostalgia and sentimentality that is irresistible, in that Simpsonian way that sneaks up on you and grabs you unawares, a one-two punch of heart and comedy. If you recall crying while watching “Toy Story 2’s” achingly touching flashback montage about the origins, and eventual failure of the Woody and Jessie dolls, than you’ll be in for an equally moving montage here when Sally, the blue Porsche, recalls the glories of Route 66 in it’s heyday, before the interstate was constructed, virtually killing tourist towns who thrived off of travelers experiencing the famed road as something more than a means of getting from one point to another, but as an American rite of passage. “It moved with the land, it rose, it curved,” she spins for the mesmerized racecar, “they didn’t drive on it to make time, they drove on it to have a great time.” McQueen eventually falls in love with Sally, who herself fell in love with Radiator Springs, and their little nostalgic road trip through American history is one of the reasons “Cars” itself is so easy to love, because any movie that looks this good, and can produce such strong basic human emotions from talking cars, is something altogether special, and of course we’d have it no other way from Pixar, the heir apparent to uncle Walt’s animation and storytelling mastery. “Cars” is playing at the Movie-Plex 59. by Adam Suraf
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