Superfamily
By Josh Larsen

If it sometimes seems that superhuman powers are required to keep your family together, the newest Pixar film, The Incredibles, knows how you feel.

 

The latest in a long line of excellent computer-animated films from the inventive Pixar studio (Finding Nemo, Monsters, Inc., A Bug's Life, Toy Story, etc.), The Incredibles follows a family of superheroes struggling not so much against world-dominating evil as against the challenges of everyday life. You know, like getting the kids together for a civil dinner, paying the bills via a dead-end job, and warding off middle-aged malaise.

 

Mr. Incredible, a barrel-chested do-gooder with the strength of one hundred men; his wife, Elastigirl, whose powers should be self-explanatory; and their three young children, face such everyday inanities because society has deemed them no longer valuable as superheroes. (It all starts when a would-be suicide sues Mr. Incredible for saving his life.) And so the government sends them into a witness protection program of sorts, in which they meld into society as if they were the Johnsons next door.

 

The Incredibles delights most during its domestic segments, as Elastigirl finds the role of homemaker to be no less frazzling than superhero life, even though her flexible arms allow her to separate her squabbling kids from two rooms away. As for Mr. Incredible--now known simply as Bob--he trudges through his daily routine, stamping insurance forms at the office and pining for the days he used to leap tall buildings in a single bound. When a mysterious woman tracks him down and recruits him for undercover superhero missions, he sees a chance to relive his youth.

 

As a metaphor for a mid-life crisis, The Incredibles registers on a decidedly adult level, as do most Pixar pictures. (Finding Nemo was essentially a pep talk for parents terrified at the thought of leaving their children at preschool.) After all, what other kid flick would include a line like the one given to Elastigirl when she confronts her husband's restlessness: "This, our family, is what's happening now, Bob. And you're missing it."

 

Not that The Incredibles is a relationship drama in cartoon clothes. Above all, the movie is a first-rate superhero story in its own right, with enough stylized action and violence to make it the "oldest" picture Pixar has done. The opening sequences, featuring Mr. Incredible in his heyday, are as thrilling as anything in the Spider-Man films, while the climax--in which Elastigirl and the kids attempt to rescue Bob when one of his illicit adventures goes awry--sparkles with daredevil derring-do. At one point, Elastigirl has a run-in with a series of sliding security doors that literally stretches both her and the animators' ingenuity.

 

Supervising the creative team is writer-director Brad Bird, making his debut for Pixar after proving himself with the lovely, traditionally animated feature The Iron Giant. That 1999 film played like a contemporary version of an old Flash Gordon serial, and The Incredibles has the same sense of nostalgic adventure.

 

The movie also is blessed with a spot-on vocal cast, including Craig Nelson as Mr. Incredible, Holly Hunter as Elastigirl, and Samuel Jackson as Frozone, a friend of Bob's from the old days with whom he occasionally reminisces by mugging muggers. Even the smaller roles--like the family's junior-high daughter, voiced with a perfect bored drawl by Sarah Vowell--are cast with an acute attention to character. Unlike Shark Tale, this fall's pandering Nemo rip-off from DreamWorks Pictures, The Incredibles isn't interested in actors solely for the marquee value of their names.

 

Pixar's movies have always been interested in story first and then the bottom line, a business model that has deservedly made them billions of dollars. The Incredibles earns every untold penny it will make. The movie's heart is so firmly in the right place, it even earns Bob's corny yet inspiring confession to his family during the climax: "You are my greatest adventure."

 

Quoting such dialogue, however, can't convey how deeply such a familial philosophy is ingrained into the film. A desire for kinship governs nearly every aspect of the picture--even the life of the mad villain. The Incredibles is one of those rare pictures that truly values family.