Aladdin

When Abu (the digitally created version of the monkey, voiced by Frank Welker of Scooby Doo fame), steals Jasmine’s bracelet, Aladdin tells her “he’s still just a monkey.” This one statement changes everything. In this iteration of Disney’s Aladdin, a monkey is just a monkey, a parrot is just a parrot, and a film is just a film. There is no need to be testy, or draw comparisons.

Personally, I find comparisons with older versions unfair to filmmakers and adaptations. But then you get Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin — and you can’t help but put them side-by-side.

The animated Aladdin, for those who weren’t born in 1992, or hadn’t seen it (audible gasp), is one of the crown jewels of Disney’s renaissance era. Back then, the house of mouse was moving away from talking critters and urban settings (Oliver and Company, The Great Mouse Detective), and reinvesting their interests in sharp-witted, sunny versions of gloomy fairytales and classics (The Little Mermaid and The Hunchback of Notre Dame).

Aladdin came at a time when Disney, and writer-directors Ron Clements and John Musker (of The Little Mermaid and Hercules), could do no wrong. Their version of the Arabic folk tale (the Chinese origin is still a matter of debate), added grand musical numbers from Oscar-winning music director Alan Menken and lyricists (the late) Howard Ashman and Tim Rice, captivating supporting characters, and a blue Genie — voiced by the inimitable Robin Williams — who nearly stole the show.

This live-action version of Aladdin, directed by Guy Ritchie (Sherlock Holmes, Snatch), is kinetic, shimmering and fantastic — and it deliberately moves away from the abysmal copy-paste type of filmmaking the house of mouse entertained in their adaptation of Beauty and the Beast (2017).

Ritchie’s film — and I have no qualms in giving Ritchie due credit — amends the story with contemporary particulars. Jasmine (Naomi Scott) — who, back in 1991 “(was) not a prize to be won (by a prince)” — wants to be the Sultana of Agrabah, the fictitious kingdom that isn’t ruled by a dimwitted, goofball Sultan in this version (the one in the animated film was a caricature of the Sultan from 1940’s The Thief of Bagdad). This modern-minded Jasmine takes her cue from Frozen’s Elsa, launching into an original song (Speechless) when she faces societal dogmas. Aladdin (Mena Massoud) has more dimension as well, and his chemistry with the genie feels as genuine (if not less) than that of his animated counterpart.

Speaking of the djinn — Williams’ work is hallmark, but Will Smith is no knock-off. Who would believe that Will Smith, whose career is in a steep decline, could pull the role off with such over-the-top pizzazz. Smith keeps his inspirations and aspirations in check. He doesn’t exceed expectations, nor does he ruin a classic. Within the expensive-looking, visual effects-laden action and song sequences, we do see moments that don’t measure up (the live-action rendition of the Oscar-winning song, A Whole New World, is an example), but overall it’s a neat balance, in what is a proper, feature-length motion picture.

The live-action version of Aladdin is kinetic, shimmering and fantastic whereas, every now and then, The Secret Life of Pets 2 hits it out of the ballpark

The Secret Life of Pets 2

At the very end of The Secret Life of Pets 2 (SLOP2), the sequel to the harmless, ho-hum kiddie blockbuster of 2016, Max (voiced by Patton Oswalt), now wiser since the film started (which according to the continuity spans a weekend), ruminates on life and its curveballs.

“Nothing stays the same for long,” he narrates as the assorted set of cute, upbeat cast of animated characters readjust to their daily lives. “You have two choices [when things go wrong in life]: run from it — or run at it,” Max concludes, his worries reflecting those of an inexperienced father whose child is ready to face the world. This bit of sage-ish sappy, warm-hearted emotionalism feels a little out of place. Not much, but just enough to stand out.

Within 10 minutes into SLOP2, director Chris Renaud (Despicable Me, its sequel Lorax, the first SLOP) and screenwriter Bryan Lynch (Hop, Minions, SLOP), throw three short films together, hoping they’d come together by the climax — and they do. Kinda. Sorta.

Max’s owner Katie falls in love, marries and has a child named Liam. Max, uncomfortable with the idea of a baby, soon finds himself worrying for the little tyke. His anxiety of keeping Liam safe from the big, bad world gives him a case of involuntary itches. Max and Duke (Eric Stonestreet), are soon on a farm, where they meet a gruff-sounding Alpha dog named Rooster (Harrison Ford, sounding more awake than his last few films).

Meanwhile, the furry bunny Snowball (Kevin Hart), donning his superhero persona, helps out Shih Tzu (Tiffany Haddish) rescue a white tiger cub from an evil circus (yes, all circus people are evil in the world of film).

Also, meanwhile, Gidget (Jenny Slate), Max’s Pomeranian gal-pal, loses Max’s favourite chew toy in a cat lady’s apartment. To rescue the toy, she trains to be a cat.

The ideas are simple and the production seems childishly simple to execute. However, every now and then, the screenplay hits it out of the ballpark, when we see animals behaving the way they do (the scene when Max goes to the vet is a gem). Pet owners, or adults in general, will find these brief pockets of humour diverting, in an otherwise harmless, perky kiddie movie.

Published in Dawn, ICON, June 16th, 2019