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May 6, 2007
Why the Movies Keep Digging Into TV’s Bottomless Dustbin
By A. O. SCOTT
SAMUEL JOHNSON notoriously compared a woman preaching to “a dog walking on its hind legs.” “It is not done well,” he mused, “but you are surprised to see it done at all.” Johnson’s view of animal behavior may be as dated as his ideas about women. At least in movies, the spectacle of a dog walking, talking, dancing and flying does not seem especially surprising.
It is thus no great shock to see that Disney has adapted “Underdog,” a moderately popular television cartoon originally broadcast from 1964 to 1973, into a live-action feature film. A canine spin on the Superman legend, the series chronicled the adventures of a mild-mannered beagle (the voice of Wally Cox) who, when not shining shoes, flew around in a cape fighting the dastardly schemes of his nemesis, Simon Barsinister. In the film Barsinister is played by Peter Dinklage, and Underdog is an actual pooch who speaks in the voice of Jason Lee.
“Underdog’s” imminent arrival (on Aug. 3) at a theater near you is hardly likely to raise an eyebrow. Even as feature-length animation — mainly of the computer-generated, three-dimensional kind — continues to be part of Hollywood’s commercial bedrock, the somewhat more dubious practice of retrofitting old cartoons into non- or semi-animated features shows no signs of dying out. Before going any further, I should note that “Underdog,” which I have not yet seen, may well turn out to be a delightful motion picture and a box office smash. The title almost requires that you root for its success.
But that success, if it comes, will make “Underdog” something of an exception, a version of Dr. Johnson’s perambulating beast after all. Very few movies of its kind have been hits. According to boxofficemojo.com only four of them — “The Flintstones,” “Scooby-Doo,” “George of the Jungle” and “Casper” — have passed the $100 million mark in theaters. Not that any of these movies were especially good. But they were, perhaps, not as bad as the movies spun out of “Rocky and Bullwinkle,” “Josie and the Pussycats,” “Fat Albert” and “Mr. Magoo.”
These films are a particularly unfortunate subgenre in the none-too-distinguished category of movies based on old television shows, animated or not. The “Mission Impossible” pictures have transcended their small-screen origins. Apart from them, however, the record is artistically and commercially unimpressive.
Those “Brady Bunch” movies were amusing in their way, and the first “Addams Family” was actually pretty good. But “Bewitched”? “The Honeymooners”? “The Mod Squad”? “McHale’s Navy”? You might think — or indeed hope — that the moment for such projects would have passed.
Affectionately mocking the throwaway entertainment of the past feels dated in its own right, part of the mid-’90s craze for attaching air quotes to everything in sight and dredging up half-forgotten treasures from the collective pop memory. But mid- and late-20th-century American popular culture is a barrel without a bottom, full of junk that apparently cries out to be repackaged, recycled and resold.
Plenty of raw material remains. Given the current penguin craze, why not bring back Tennessee Tuxedo, Underdog’s old pal (or at least his fellow shill for General Mills)? Or Chilly Willy? There are a lot of martial arts fans out there. Anyone else remember “Hong Kong Phooey”? I bet he’d beat “Underdog.”
Whether or not there is demand, in other words, there is endless supply, and an equally persistent willingness to tap into it. Nostalgia for the pleasures of childhood is a disease without a cure. Baby-boom and Gen-X writers, directors and studio executives are as reluctant as others in their cohorts to let go of the comfort and predictability of Saturday mornings on the family room couch or prime time in the den. Why not give some of that magic back to their own kids?
So today’s youngsters, who can in any case watch the old stuff (including an “Underdog” boxed set) on DVD, are presented with bigger, shinier, safer versions of the cartoons their moms and dads (and by now grandparents) allegedly used to love. Compared with the originals, which could turn cheapness into a virtue, the new products spare no expense when it comes to technology and casting. And yet for all their lavishness, they tend to feel shoddy and uninspired.
The simplest explanation for this is that something made to be viewed in 15- or 30-minute increments on a small screen does not easily translate into a feature-length movie. This hypothesis is borne out by movie versions of currently popular cartoons, from “Hey, Arnold!” and “The Powerpuff Girls” to “Aqua Teen Hunger Force.” (“South Park,” which breaks every other rule, is the exception to this one.) But the cinematic rehashes of ’50s, ’60s and ’70s television are not disappointing simply because they are clumsy attempts to extend the running times and expand the aspect ratios of the originals. They are acts of narcissistic aggression aimed at the young even as they are undertaken in the name of generational harmony.
The basic, benign selling point is that parents, fondly remembering their own experience of these shows, will bring their children along to the theater, initiating the youngsters into a charmed circle of endless parody. Many of the original programs were benign satires of familiar genres and conventions: “Underdog” poked fun at superheroes; “Rocky and Bullwinkle” made anarchic hay of spy fiction and, most brilliantly, of its own artifice; “The Flintstones” sent up “The Honeymooners.”
In the movies, though, that mild, occasionally thrilling sense of subversion is betrayed not only by the overblown scale but also by a tone of vulgar smirkiness that makes the grown-ups feel smarter than they should and the kids feel dumber than they need to. The adults, that is, laugh knowingly at the in-jokes and moments of pastiche, while their children chuckle at the easy physical humor and the inevitable scatology. And then the grown-ups can lecture the youngsters about how much better — smarter, more innocent, more fun — the originals were.
Which is so frequently true that you begin to suspect it may be the point, that built-in inferiority is part of the formula. What better way for filmmakers and executives to pay sincere tribute to the cartoons they grew up on — and to hold on to a fading vision of the good old days — than to turn memorable television into forgettable cinema? They don’t necessarily set out to do so. They just can’t help themselves.
As I’ve suggested, “Underdog” may surprise us all by turning out to be fresh and true to the silly spirit of the original. And if it isn’t, we’ll just have to wait until December, when the long-awaited “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movie comes out.
Why the Movies Keep Digging Into TV’s Bottomless Dustbin
By A. O. SCOTT
SAMUEL JOHNSON notoriously compared a woman preaching to “a dog walking on its hind legs.” “It is not done well,” he mused, “but you are surprised to see it done at all.” Johnson’s view of animal behavior may be as dated as his ideas about women. At least in movies, the spectacle of a dog walking, talking, dancing and flying does not seem especially surprising.
It is thus no great shock to see that Disney has adapted “Underdog,” a moderately popular television cartoon originally broadcast from 1964 to 1973, into a live-action feature film. A canine spin on the Superman legend, the series chronicled the adventures of a mild-mannered beagle (the voice of Wally Cox) who, when not shining shoes, flew around in a cape fighting the dastardly schemes of his nemesis, Simon Barsinister. In the film Barsinister is played by Peter Dinklage, and Underdog is an actual pooch who speaks in the voice of Jason Lee.
“Underdog’s” imminent arrival (on Aug. 3) at a theater near you is hardly likely to raise an eyebrow. Even as feature-length animation — mainly of the computer-generated, three-dimensional kind — continues to be part of Hollywood’s commercial bedrock, the somewhat more dubious practice of retrofitting old cartoons into non- or semi-animated features shows no signs of dying out. Before going any further, I should note that “Underdog,” which I have not yet seen, may well turn out to be a delightful motion picture and a box office smash. The title almost requires that you root for its success.
But that success, if it comes, will make “Underdog” something of an exception, a version of Dr. Johnson’s perambulating beast after all. Very few movies of its kind have been hits. According to boxofficemojo.com only four of them — “The Flintstones,” “Scooby-Doo,” “George of the Jungle” and “Casper” — have passed the $100 million mark in theaters. Not that any of these movies were especially good. But they were, perhaps, not as bad as the movies spun out of “Rocky and Bullwinkle,” “Josie and the Pussycats,” “Fat Albert” and “Mr. Magoo.”
These films are a particularly unfortunate subgenre in the none-too-distinguished category of movies based on old television shows, animated or not. The “Mission Impossible” pictures have transcended their small-screen origins. Apart from them, however, the record is artistically and commercially unimpressive.
Those “Brady Bunch” movies were amusing in their way, and the first “Addams Family” was actually pretty good. But “Bewitched”? “The Honeymooners”? “The Mod Squad”? “McHale’s Navy”? You might think — or indeed hope — that the moment for such projects would have passed.
Affectionately mocking the throwaway entertainment of the past feels dated in its own right, part of the mid-’90s craze for attaching air quotes to everything in sight and dredging up half-forgotten treasures from the collective pop memory. But mid- and late-20th-century American popular culture is a barrel without a bottom, full of junk that apparently cries out to be repackaged, recycled and resold.
Plenty of raw material remains. Given the current penguin craze, why not bring back Tennessee Tuxedo, Underdog’s old pal (or at least his fellow shill for General Mills)? Or Chilly Willy? There are a lot of martial arts fans out there. Anyone else remember “Hong Kong Phooey”? I bet he’d beat “Underdog.”
Whether or not there is demand, in other words, there is endless supply, and an equally persistent willingness to tap into it. Nostalgia for the pleasures of childhood is a disease without a cure. Baby-boom and Gen-X writers, directors and studio executives are as reluctant as others in their cohorts to let go of the comfort and predictability of Saturday mornings on the family room couch or prime time in the den. Why not give some of that magic back to their own kids?
So today’s youngsters, who can in any case watch the old stuff (including an “Underdog” boxed set) on DVD, are presented with bigger, shinier, safer versions of the cartoons their moms and dads (and by now grandparents) allegedly used to love. Compared with the originals, which could turn cheapness into a virtue, the new products spare no expense when it comes to technology and casting. And yet for all their lavishness, they tend to feel shoddy and uninspired.
The simplest explanation for this is that something made to be viewed in 15- or 30-minute increments on a small screen does not easily translate into a feature-length movie. This hypothesis is borne out by movie versions of currently popular cartoons, from “Hey, Arnold!” and “The Powerpuff Girls” to “Aqua Teen Hunger Force.” (“South Park,” which breaks every other rule, is the exception to this one.) But the cinematic rehashes of ’50s, ’60s and ’70s television are not disappointing simply because they are clumsy attempts to extend the running times and expand the aspect ratios of the originals. They are acts of narcissistic aggression aimed at the young even as they are undertaken in the name of generational harmony.
The basic, benign selling point is that parents, fondly remembering their own experience of these shows, will bring their children along to the theater, initiating the youngsters into a charmed circle of endless parody. Many of the original programs were benign satires of familiar genres and conventions: “Underdog” poked fun at superheroes; “Rocky and Bullwinkle” made anarchic hay of spy fiction and, most brilliantly, of its own artifice; “The Flintstones” sent up “The Honeymooners.”
In the movies, though, that mild, occasionally thrilling sense of subversion is betrayed not only by the overblown scale but also by a tone of vulgar smirkiness that makes the grown-ups feel smarter than they should and the kids feel dumber than they need to. The adults, that is, laugh knowingly at the in-jokes and moments of pastiche, while their children chuckle at the easy physical humor and the inevitable scatology. And then the grown-ups can lecture the youngsters about how much better — smarter, more innocent, more fun — the originals were.
Which is so frequently true that you begin to suspect it may be the point, that built-in inferiority is part of the formula. What better way for filmmakers and executives to pay sincere tribute to the cartoons they grew up on — and to hold on to a fading vision of the good old days — than to turn memorable television into forgettable cinema? They don’t necessarily set out to do so. They just can’t help themselves.
As I’ve suggested, “Underdog” may surprise us all by turning out to be fresh and true to the silly spirit of the original. And if it isn’t, we’ll just have to wait until December, when the long-awaited “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movie comes out.
And this made me think of the upcoming "Nancy Drew" movie and whether it fits into this category. I don't think so, while "Nancy Drew" seems to be a bygone series, it's still a book series which greatly enhances it shelflife to encompass many generations. So it's much more likely that children these days have been exposed to Nancy Drew's adventures than those of Underdog's. I was also glad to see that "The Bridge to Terabithia" was adapted into a film (well another film) that remained true to the book. The advantage of these films is that even if the books aren't currently popular among children today, they serve to present these stories to children where they wouldn't otherwise be in a world of videogames and internets. Hopefully, the kids will then pick up the books that these movies are based on and realize that old books are far more entertaining than old TV shows.