Staff Inquiry: Our Favorite Animated Films

While often erroneously thought of as children’s entertainment, we here at Film Inquiry love a good animated movie (and despite what some of our twitter accounts may indicate, we are all adults). The medium is less about the maturity of the story than the limitless narrative possibilities; even in our CGI-laden time, there’s things you can get away with in animation that you simply can’t do if Robert Downey Jr. is in the middle of the frame (remember how weird A Scanner Darkly was?).

And so in the spirit of adulthood discoveries and childhood relics, we asked our writers to look at the whole of animation and pick out their absolute favorites films.

Faisal Al-Jadir – The Red Turtle (2016)

The beauty of The Red Turtle is in its modesty. It boasts a grand design yet adheres to a minimalist sensibility. There is no exposition, and there is no dialogue. The film never tells us about the story or instruct us how to feel but instead chooses to invite us to view its canvas and draw what we may from its heavily rich well of dreams and magic. With the only word ever uttered, “hey”, being used as a character’s plea for help, we are treated to an experience of otherwise wordless action that showcases both the elegance of animation and the true potential of the cinematic medium.

Through quietly engaging animation and an extraordinarily-crafted world, what we have is at once fable, legend, metaphor, myth and narrative. Almost as though you’d find a hidden attraction in a circus, we stare into a mysterious and, under its hypnotic charm, gaze into a world full of adventure, life and love, but never hiding the fact that our desires cannot win the race with our mortality.

The titular turtle is a creature that is as layered as the components of its shell. It is what you want it to be, and more.
With much of good and bad cinema relying on a great deal of noise (indicative of the entitled and troubled nature of our world), it is refreshing to find a film that carries so much peace and wisdom, and subtly allow us to enjoy watching the cosmos unfold before us, so we may appreciate the company we have in our limited lifetime.

Echoing Roy Batty’s “Tears in Rain” monologue in Blade Runner, The Red Turtle asks us to cherish every great moment we can experience and remind ourselves that the beauty of life is in the simple details.

Zoe Crombie – Princess Mononoke (1997)

Animation comes in all forms, from realistic CGI landscapes to simplistic cartoons, all telling stories of differing scopes and styles. While I love animation in whatever shape it takes, particularly 2D, I find that I tend to gravitate to stories that make full use of the beauty of the medium. None more is this the case than for Hayao Miyazaki’s acclaimed 1997 film Princess Mononoke, an epic fantasy tale about justice, the environment, and the nature of humanity.

The plot may begin in Prince Ashitaka’s small Emishi village, but the themes and developments truly get started once he enters the lush, dangerous forest, full of kodamas and vengeful Gods, as well as the titular wolf girl San and the mysterious forest spirit. In contrast, though just as beautifully rendered, stands Iron Town, a mechanical marvel ruled by Lady Eboshi that seeks to take over the forest land, winning the Earth for the humans. Rather than a simple tale of good versus evil, Miyazaki seeks to examine the complexity and ambivalence of each side: some kind of balance with nature must be preserved, but a violent world based on survival of the fittest is no place for the vulnerable people that Eboshi claims to protect.

With modern CGI advancements, this is a film that could be made mostly in live action today, but in my opinion, the radiant beauty and depth of the animation couldn’t be matched. The iconic character designs, like that of San and her wolf mother Moro, perfectly convey the attitude and history of who they represent, and I struggle to imagine how the mystical, shimmering quality of the forest could be translated beyond its painted origin. This is to say nothing of the forest spirit, whose ‘nightwalker’ form is awe-inspiring.

If you ever get the opportunity to see Princess Mononoke in a cinema, take it. If this film doesn’t convince you of the potency of animation, then nothing will.

Bree Duwyn – Coraline (2009)

For the past decade, Coraline has been an absolute favourite childhood animated film of mine. I still remember renting it on DVD from my local convenience store, where it came along with a few pairs of 3D glasses. I was immediately hooked on its mesmerizing animation and effects. Oddly enough, I remember this movie experience much more vividly than others, and I think this is because I still watch it from time to time, for the sole purpose of nostalgia.

There are many things that fascinate me about Coraline, including how every scene offered a variety of visual perfection through old school stop motion and modern 3D, and the lovable and eccentric characters that made the film so compelling.

First off, the opening scene is incredible. Without giving away the plot, there is a glimpse of foreshadowing with the creation of Coraline’s doll. It’s calculated yet eerie and off-putting; gentle humming and harmonizing over scenes of sewing, stuffing, and the iconic selection of button eyes.

The fact that this animation feature took 20 months to film is insane, the crew on set for this stop motion picture creating an entire story with props is highly intriguing to me. Henry Selick also did a wonderful job of incorporating Gaiman’s novel through symbolism on screen. It astounds me how the film utilizes it’s unique visuals to appeal to the senses; sight, smell, taste, touch, sound… with a performance from the jumping mouse circus or one of my personal favourite: a radiant, lush garden to complete the likeness of Coraline’s face. Little things like this are what makes Coraline a joy to watch, and each time I come back to the film, I find more clues or interesting tidbits I missed previously.

For example, one of my favourite concepts: the real world around Coraline is dull and boring. This is reflected in the set’s grey atmosphere and supporting characters, while Coraline is a bright excited ball of blue hair and sarcasm. The other world is vibrant and illuminating, something lacking in Coraline’s life, where the Other Mother makes a kaleidoscopic world for her in order to use trickery.

Overall, Coraline remains to be a timeless film that appeals to me each and every time with its alluring themes and dream-like wonderment.

Maria Lattila – Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

I’m a sucker for a good Disney film. Some of my earliest childhood memories are of watching The Lion King at home or going to see Hercules at the local cinema. Pixar, of course, has been knocking it out of the park for years now. They might be awful, greedy corporate studios, but they know how to make a film.

However, when asked for my favourite animated film, the only film I can think of is last year’s Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse. Immediately, every Disney and Pixar film disappear from my mind and Post Malone’s “Sunflower” starts playing in my head.

We’ve seen the story of Peter Parker so many times, it’s time to make room for Miles Morales. A less-known Spider-Man, Morales is a much more fun webslinger. His moral compass isn’t only dictated by the death of a relative, but is instead ever-changing, making Morales a much more interesting protagonist.

This is undoubtedly because no animated film has quite challenged my understanding of animation as an art form as Spider-Verse did. Animated to resemble the comic books the story and characters stem from, it’s a new way to work the genre. Not only does it feel fresh and original, it abandons all attempts to resemble our reality. It’s bold in its visual style; it’s almost migraine-inducing how many colours are on screen during the climax of the film, but the filmmakers pull it off with such ease and straight up swag.

The fantastical style of animation both reminds us of the origins of not only the story, but the genre itself. What started as drawings on pages being flipped has now developed into a distinct art form, but a fully digitised one.
It’s a great story, the film looks great, what else do you need?

Lewis Punton – The Iron Giant (1999)

Let’s talk 50 foot robots, and more importantly the human teachings they so rarely bring with them, a drought completely vacant in the case of Brad Bird’s 1999 flick The Iron Giant. Instead, it stomps its way through lessons of friendship, personal worth, and all the heart needed to ensure a hit with its target audience: everyone.

The Iron Giant is a film so wildly concerned with strong personal morals and the idea of individual inner peace that it physically struggles to come across as anything other than worthy of its almighty reputation, delivering on a rather fantastic level of artistic direction and animation as it drives home a message of mythological proportions.

As the story of Hogarth and his robotic companion winds it’s way through generationally apt plot points, a final third of heartbreaking proportions leaves an astonishingly poignant life lesson in its wake, one that rounds out a wonderful animation in a wonderful way.

Whilst animation as a medium will forever shift and adapt, the gems of its past will only ever shine effervescently, and in the case of The Iron Giant, glimmer in a light of introverted modern day relevance. With more than its fair share of teachings, The Iron Giant will endlessly exist in an entire generation’s inner monologue, appearing to constantly remind: “you are who you choose to be”.

Linsey Satterthwaite – Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

Wes Anderson is already a revered auteur, creating vivid, striking worlds within the celluloid frame so when he turned his attention to stop motion animation, this was no different. His adaptation of Roald Dahl’s book Fantastic Mr Fox- a personal childhood favourite of mine – managed to retain the spirit of the book yet make it a truly Wes-tastic production.

Embodying the characters with the usual Anderson traits of idiosyncratic tendencies, nostalgic malaise, and states of arrested development proves a masterstroke in developing deep arcs for its protagonist’s motivations. And as with any of his films, he assembles such a strong (voice) cast to bring these animals to life that it is almost as greedy as Mr Fox himself.

The colour palette for the film is full of crisp hues and rich autumnal vibes, and the attention to detail used within the frame is exquisite, the animation bursting with originality, delightful quirks and offbeat humour.

But if this all sounds like animation at its most left field and alienating, it is far from it. Anderson manages to straddle the impossible by pleasing his beloved fans but appealing to kids along the way (I have sat through this film many times with young nephews who adore it). He shows that you can produce a gorgeous, fully realised piece of animation and also a terrific yarn that will keep young ones amused along with die-hard Anderson devotees, all without sacrificing one iota of style. This is a truly fantastic tail.

Kristy Strouse – Beauty and the Beast (1991)

There have been so many incredible animated features over the years, and I have a lot of favorites. I decided to go with one of the earliest in my life that had a big influence: the 1991 Beauty and the Beast. It’s a tale as old as time (couldn’t help it), and despite being released 28 years ago, it doesn’t narrow its ability to be moving. It’s truly timeless.

Most of these movies have some lessons learned, but Beauty and the Beast really embraced the message of finding inner beauty and learning to love someone for who they truly are. It also focuses on maturity, growth, and independence. Belle was inspiring to me as a young girl watching this movie, someone out of the normal princess facade, and if you can look past the potential of Stockholm’s syndrome and beastiality, there’s also an element of wonderment that wins out. There is something really easy to connect with about this film that makes you invest in the characters and get swept up in the romance.

It’s a perfect blend of magic and realism, the ugliness and loveliness of human nature, and a myriad of musical numbers that’ll adequately get lodged in your brain. I think it’s one of the few Disney classics that’ll never lose its enchantment, and it is always a warm and comforting watch for me.

Jake Tropila – Cowboy Bebop: The Movie (2001)

While I’m tempted to cheat and simply recommend Cowboy Bebop, I’m afraid I can’t because I’m a stickler for following prompts, and the prompt this month is “Favorite Animated Movie.” So, while I do consider Cowboy Bebop, the 26-episode anime series, to be the apogee of all art (and possibly life itself), I will need to defer to its still-amazing film sequel, Cowboy Bebop: The Movie, as my pick for favorite animated film.

Released three years after the series’ original run ended, Cowboy Bebop: The Movie’s chronology actually places it in the middle of the show’s latter episodes, but I firmly believe it can be enjoyed as a standalone feature. Here’s all you need to know: It’s the year 2071, on the planet Mars, and former crime syndicate member Spike, retired cop Jet, former fugitive Faye, genius child-hacker Ed, and Welsh Corgi “datadog” Ein comprise the ragtag team of bounty hunters aboard the intergalactic spaceship known as “Bebop.” When a deranged soldier-turned-terrorist unleashes a deadly bio-weapon on a large metropolitan area, the Bebop crew sets out to stop him before he can do more damage.

Admittedly, some of the more idiosyncratic aspects of the medium might put off some anime novices (i.e., “woolongs” are the traditional form of currency), but I champion Cowboy Bebop: The Movie as a highlight for both animation and action cinema because it looks so exceptionally good at doing both. Set-pieces are stunningly rendered, with gorgeous, clear-as-day visuals, evocative lighting and color schemes, and beautifully-crafted locations present in nearly every frame (backgrounds are almost always teeming with life).

Sonically, the film is also a masterwork, with a robust, action-packed sound design bolstered by the glorious tunes of Yoko Kanno and The Seatbelts (who also composed the incredible music for the series). For a plot on par with your average Mission: Impossible film, Cowboy Bebop: The Movie is a feast for the eyes, an impeccable achievement that frequently transcends what many set out and fail to do. See it, space cowboy!

Tynan Yanaga – Only Yesterday (1991)

I was talking to a Japanese friend who said Only Yesterday was one of his favorite movies and as far as animated films go, I’d have to agree with him. In Japanese, the onomatopoeic title is more literally translated “memories come tumbling down” and this vivid imagery exquisitely articulates the feelings mined throughout the story.

It is about a grown single woman leaving the high-rise jungle of Tokyo and returning to the countryside of her childhood for some R & R. The change in scenery instigates all the associations we keep with us for a lifetime, albeit faded by the years. It becomes a peaceful narrative awash with nostalgia, the recollections of adolescence freely seeping into the present.

Hall monitors at school. First crushes. The rigidness of fractions. Older sisters consumed by Beatlemania and miniskirts. The deeply human flaws evident in our parents. But the brilliance of Isao Takahata’s film is the very familiarity of his mediation within time and space. When we look back at childhood it can come with a mixture of emotions both wistful and regretful, warm and good-humored. Hindsight gives us this distinctive lens in which to see the past. All the ambiguities we could not understand in the moment gain renewed clarity.

It is not a representation of my life exactly but I readily imprint myself on this movie. What’s even more unusual is the fact it hardly functions as a story solely for youthful audiences. Surely they might relate to portions but only with the baggage of 20 or 30 years can you begin to fully appreciate its yearnings and the lingering hope it holds aloft. Because it is a beautiful portrait in the same manner every human life is inherently beautiful.

Those are some of our favorite animated films. What are yours?