THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE: Third Time…Barely Works
Hazem Fahmy is a poet and critic from Cairo. He…
I will never forget the first time I saw The Lego Movie. I was visiting my brother and we had time to kill. The film had just came out and neither of us had had much time to read about it, but we thought it would at least be some fun. We both grew up on Legos and the chance to see a film that celebrates them, even a bad one, seemed like a worthwhile occasion for our time. When the credits rolled on the phenomenal “Everything is Awesome”, we were both absolutely stunned. I watched it a second time a few months later and broke down crying.
However, when The Lego Batman Movie was announced, I was not optimistic. I simply did not believe that the magic of the first, the self-aware wit, the profound emotional arc, could be repeated. I was fortunately proven very wrong, and the film turned out to be one of my favorites of the year. All the core elements that made The Lego Movie so fantastic were ingeniously recycled to fit Chris McKay’s hilarious vision of a brick Gotham. What at first seemed like yet another symptom of Hollywood franchise frenzy turned out to be one of the most incisive and nuanced portrayals of Batman and his mythology; one that I’d argue is on par with the likes of Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy.
It’s safe to say, I went in very excited for The Lego Ninjago Movie, though hesitant about its setting and prospective cultural appropriation. Having adored the first two films of the Lego-verse, I was confident that this would at the very least be an enjoyable ride with plenty of laughs. Thankfully, I was not wrong on that end. The film follows a young (Lego) man by the name of Lloyd (perfectly voiced by Dave Franco) who has the misfortune of being the child of the local warlord, Garmadon, voiced by Justin Theroux.
To counter the shame of his legacy, Lloyd leads a secret band of mech-fighters (who call themselves ninjas for some reason) against the nonstop invasion attempts of his father. One day, an emotional battle between the father and son leads to disaster as Lloyd unwittingly summons the monstrous Meowthra, and adorable live-action cat that wreaks havoc upon the city. Thus, in order to save everyone, Lloyd and company follow their teacher, Jackie Chan’s Master Wu, through the jungles of Ninjago in search of the ultimate weapon that will defeat Meowthra.
(Almost) Everything is (Still) Awesome
The Lego Ninjago Movie is a fun in all the ways we’ve come to expect of the franchise: its gorgeous animation boasts a dynamic and diverse color palette, its characters’ awareness of their absurd situation rakes in endless jokes, and the emotional climax feels both genuine and satisfying. And yet, it definitely feels like The Lego Ninjago Movie is the weakest of the franchise so far. The issue isn’t so much the technical aspects, which are for the most part top-notch, so much as it is the core structure of the story and world.
Narratively, Lego Ninjago follows much of the same beats as Lego Batman. At the center of the story, we have two people at odds with one another. Throughout the film, they learn the value of the other in their lives and the whole thing ends with a bang of a final sequence in which they save the city; an act that is only made possible through their reconciliation.
In Lego Batman, this dual emotional/plot climax is the literal re-piecing of the city through Batman’s reaching out to Joker. In Lego Ninjago, it’s Lloyd’s forgiveness of his father disguised as his comforting of the giant cat monster, Meowthra. While the latter is also a smart combination of absurd comedy and candid emotional development, it feels very formulaic in comparison to the former. Considered alongside its two superior predecessors, the film highlights the Lego-verse’s formula in a tired way that weakens both its impeccable sense of freshness and its emotional impact. If you’ve seen The Lego Movie and Lego Batman, it already feels like you’ve seen The Lego Ninjago Movie.
The second, and perhaps more glaring issue, is the city and space of Ninjago itself. Unfortunately, as many had feared, the city is an orientalist mess, adopting disparate East Asian architecture and imagery from around the region to create an ageographical clutter of a city; one that attempts to channel Tokyo, Hong Kong and New York simultaneously, without producing any sense of identity or place for itself. The other major problem in this equation is the rag-tag group of ninjas themselves.
In addition to relying on the tired, and historically inaccurate, American portrayal of the ninja as an aggressive warrior, the group’s dynamics, both social and operational, are barely defined. Given the time we spend with him, not to mention Dave Franco’s phenomenal voice acting, we get a distinct look at who Lloyd is as a person. We see his quirks, we empathize with his daddy issues and estrangement from society, and, most importantly, we understand his motivation to fight his tyrannical father. I can’t remotely say that for the others, though. Each of his fellow “ninjas” are inconsequential sketches of characters, and we barely spend enough time to distinguish their personalities or desires from one another. Eventually, they just blend into the background of the story.
When in Ninjago
As does Ninjago itself. Because the city’s identity and place are so poorly defined, we never get a real sense of its significance to its characters. The constant Garmadon invasions are comical, but it never feels like anything is truly at stake. When Meowthra gets to toppling buildings and knocking down bridges, all we see are falling bricks. In comparison to Lego Batman’s sprawling and lovingly rendered Gotham, Ninjago just doesn’t feel like a real lived-in space, at least not one worth worrying about.
Even Emmett’s borderline anonymous city in The Lego Movie seemed to have more life in it, what with its clockwork system of conformity and constant stream of propaganda. But we also care about the fate of the city in the final battle of The Lego Movie because we grow to care about the characters who are waging that battle. In addition to Lloyd, we only spend significant time with two other characters: Garmadon and Master Wu, the latter of which is absent for a large chunk in the middle. This makes it fairly difficult to engage in any event or arc beyond that of Lloyd’s emotional journey with his lost father.
The Lego Ninjago Movie: Verdict
All in all, The Lego Ninjago Movie is a heartwarming and hilarious ride, exactly what we’ve come to expect of the Lego movies. But it’s that predictability, along with the problematic nature of its setting, that hold it back from being as fresh as its predecessors. I remain optimistic for the future of the franchise, but I reckon they’re gonna need to start oiling that machine if they don’t want it to breakdown from sheer fatigue.
What property do you wanna see Lego turn into a movie next?
The Lego Ninjago Movie is currently in theaters in the U.S. and the UK. For a list of full release dates, see here.
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Hazem Fahmy is a poet and critic from Cairo. He is an Honors graduate of Wesleyan University’s College of Letters where he studied literature, philosophy, history and film. His work has appeared, or is forthcoming in Apogee, HEArt, Mizna, and The Offing. In his spare time, Hazem writes about the Middle East and tries to come up with creative ways to mock Classicism. He makes videos occasionally.