An order-of-magnitude leap forward in animated storytelling, this seriocomic take on the superhero genre deftly mixes Pixar Animation Studios’ justly famed skill with CGI imagery with a script and direction by Brad Bird (whose animated 1999 film, The Iron Giant, remains one of the single most affecting films ever created). Much of what made Bird’s previous Fifties-era tale of a boy and his giant robot so immensely appealing is also on display here: The Incredibles overflows with slapstick and more gentle strains of humor, while a core of genuine emotion that is nothing if not ambitiously nuanced resonates throughout a script. This is Pixar all grown up, but still, at times, wonderfully silly. As comedies go, The Incredibles is like mainlining a snappy, heady mix of comic-book shenanigans and modern parenting, and the end result is a film that will likely impress parents even more than it does their offspring. Nelson voices Mr. Incredible, a Superman-style hero who, in the film’s faux-newsreel prologue, is seen falling victim not to an arch-nemesis, but to a wave of lawsuits from a public sick of being saved (and thus enduring whiplash). Forced underground and into a superhero relocation program, Mr. Incredible (aka Bob Parr) hangs up his tights and weds Elastigirl (Hunter). The pair settle down in the suburbs while Bob holds a job as an insurance-claims adjuster, and Helen raises the formerly dynamic duo’s three kids – Dash (Fox), who can run at supersonic speeds; Violet (author and NPR regular Vowell), who can turn invisible and create force fields with her mind; and the infant Jack-Jack (Eli Fucile/Maeve Andrews), whose superpowers have yet to emerge. The film’s narrative crux – and its most touching and realistic vein – comes from Bob’s yearning to once again be the savior of humanity, which is taking a toll on his marriage. Once a week he goes “bowling” with another former superpal, Jackson’s ice-wielding Frozone, and together the pair huddle in the front seat of their car, listening to the police scanner and leaping into action anonymously. When Mr. Incredible receives a mysterious communiqué offering him the chance to redon his tights and combat a real menace, he jumps at the chance, even though it means lying to his wife and family. The Incredibles is more than just another masterpiece of computer-generated animation (although Pixar’s skill with the form is unassailable); it’s an animated film that flows and feels – despite the bizarre comic-book proportionalities of its characters – just like a live-action one. Too often in modern animation the story takes a back seat to either the comedy (as has been the case with any number of recent Disney outings, as well as the recent DreamWorks also-ran Shark Tale) or the imagery, but here, via Bird’s more-than-capable directorial and screenwriting skills, it runs to the front of the frame and stays there throughout. There’s plenty of nail-biting suspense (especially when Mr. Incredible’s family is in jeopardy) and smart, family-oriented comedy, but The Incredibles succeeds most impressively by virtue of its adult themes. How great a role should one’s past play in one’s future? Can men ever really settle down and raise a family without neutering their internal superheroes? And where the hell does a guy get a new set of sartorially super Spandex, anyway? Pressing questions all, and The Incredibles, incredibly enough, answers every single one.
This article appears in November 5 • 2004.