Treasure Planet

Today we’ll continue Pirates Week with another adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic tale of buccaneers and buried gold; however, rather than crossing a wide sea, today we’ll set sail across the stars as we review Disney’s 2002 animated release, Treasure Planet.

Avast! That ship be flyin' the ... Atomic Roger?

The film follows the original tale fairly closely, naturally taking it’s own liberties and making alterations to move the story along quickly. Pacing is kept extremely brisk, with a few intense deep-space action sequences thrown in to keep the momentum up. Unlike Disney’s live-action version from 1950, Treasure Planet focuses more on young Jim Hawkins’ relationship with this mother, and also adds a subplot involving his father walking out on them when he was young. This particular plot-point, and the heavy-handed flashbacks in which it's portrayed, pushes the Hawkins/Silver relationship toward a much more transparent “surrogate father” scenario than in other adaptations. Much of the bonding between the cabin boy and sea-cook is left to be shown in an extended montage during the voyage to the titular planet, which unfortunately fails to build up a believable camaraderie between the two. The emotional impact of Silver’s eventual double-cross (and any back-and-forth treachery that follows) is blunted by this mishandling of the story’s central relationship.

Have ye ever practiced autoerotic asphyxiation, Jim lad?

I don’t necessarily fault the voice-actors for this misstep, though some of the character portrayals are more successful than others. The casting of Long John Silver (here a cyborg simply called John Silver) is the most important aspect of a successful Treasure Island adaptation, and luckily Disney didn’t fall back on casting a recognizable celebrity voice in this case. Portraying the treasure-obsessed alien cyborg (that sounds like the set-up for a Schwarzenegger flick, doesn’t it?) is theater actor Brian Murray, who lends a believable world-weariness to the character. Again unlike other adaptations, here Silver’s treachery feels fueled by spite rather than a slyly duplicitous nature. Despite this, Silver is the film’s most fully-realized character, thanks to Murray’s confident performance more than the lacking script.

One hundred percent pure adrenaline!!

Also not helped by the script is protagonist Jim Hawkins, voiced by a 21-year old Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Portrayed as older than the book’s lad of 13, this Hawkins is characterized as an aimless juvenile delinquent, who spends his days flying about on his windsurfer-like “solar cruiser” instead of helping his mother at her Inn. Despite Gordon-Levitt’s earnest vocalization, Jim is a hard character to like. For most of the film’s first half, he barely utters more than a few words at a time, becoming more vocal and engaged in the story as the film progresses. This may’ve been an attempt at a character arc showing Jim’s growth into manhood over the course of his adventure, but instead it distances him from the audience early on. The character’s likeability factor is also harmed by his rigid, sour-faced design and clichéd “cool punk” image (baggy pants, big boots, single earring, rat-tail, etc.)

Doctor, would you be so kind as to pull my finger?

Also on deck for the adventurous proceedings are a handful of recognizable actors filling in the supporting cast. Jim’s mother is voiced by stalwart character actress Laurie Metcalf, who’s apparently unafraid of being typecast as a mom in Disney movies (following her vocal performance as Andy’s Mom in the Toy Story films.) Frasier’s David Hyde Pierce lends his prim vocals to family friend Dr. Delbert Doppler, an alien character amalgamating the original story’s Dr. Livesey and Squire Trelawney. Hyde Pierce is a gifted and very funny actor, but his vocal performances … well, they always sound the same. For many viewers of a certain age, hearing the actor’s voice will automatically take them out of the picture, as they know they are listening to the voice of Niles Crane (or Sideshow Cecil, depending on whom you ask.) Also heard as the ship’s feline-esque Captain Amelia is Emma Thompson who, despite an energetic performance, would be better utilized by Pixar in Brave a decade later.

Lift, Dragon! Lift with Vigor!!

I’ve mentioned my distaste for the character of Ben Gunn in my Treasure Island review, and unfortunately that irritation is ratcheted up to 11 in this adaptation. Instead of a human (or even alien) castaway, here the character is a discarded android called B.E.N. (Bio Electronic Navigator,) and is voiced with loony abandon by Martin Short. Now before I get any “Angry Faces” on Facebook, let me say that I actually like Martin Short - in the right roles. His manic talents are well-suited to broad comedies and wacky satires; his performance in 1986’s legendary Three Amigos is one of the funniest I’ve ever seen. Short, like most of the other actors in this movie, is unfortunately not helped by the writing: B.E.N. flails around clumsily, yelling out his dialogue and pulling the “oops did I do that?” routine in every single scene. While previous incarnations of the character may’ve been annoying, the ultra-hapless robot voiced by an unbound Short is so grating that even the Gungan who shall remain nameless would say “Dude, shut the hell up.”

Action by HAVOC (And no, I'm not going to address the sad flying bubblegum)

The film uses a lot (and I mean A LOT) of computer-generated imagery. The filmmakers had further developed the “deep canvas” technology developed for 1999’s Tarzan in order to create what they called “virtual sets.” These CG-created environments allowed them to move the “camera” around freely - just like on a live-action set. The hand-drawn characters and effects would be added in once the camera’s movements had been settled upon. This lends many of the action scenes a more frantic pacing than many of Disney’s previous animated features, with that nauseating “shaky-cam” style of cinematography finally making its way into animation. With computer imagery making up most of the film’s environments, space vessels, all the stars and planets, and half of the characters (literally, in the case of Silver’s cyborg parts,) one wonders why Disney didn’t simply attempt to go the extra 10% and make this their own first computer-animated feature.This dependence on CG is especially apparent in the heavily-promoted sequences of Jim skysurfing. While lively, these sequences are a bit obvious in their attempts at appealing explicitly to young boys, ensuring that junior adrenaline-junkies would be hooked upon viewing the film’s trailer.

They climbed aboard their starship, and headed for the SKIES!

I know I sound like this film has no redeeming factors, but I honestly don’t dislike it, and there are many things to appreciate. The imaginative blending of Victorian England and far-out sci-fi is oddly unique, the image of 18th century-styled sailing ships flying amidst the stars becoming something of a minor iconic image. James Newton Howard’s thrilling score is a rousing throwback to adventure scores of Hollywood’s golden age (excluding the moments when he attempts to add electric guitar over the orchestrations.) Even the pair of songs by Goo Goo Dolls frontman John Rzeznik are pretty decent, if wildly out of place. Heck, of all the lousy movies Disney released in the first decade of the 2000’s (bookended by Fantasia 2000 and Tangled,) I’d consider this one of the hidden gems - behind Lilo & Stitch (and maybe The Princess And The Frog.) Even forgiving the so-so script, one can’t help but get the feeling that there’s a nervous studio behind the film, willing to pander to its audience more than in the past; hence we get gags involving an alien crewmember who communicates in farts, a warm good-bye hug from John Silver, and sequences where an overly-excited Dr. Doppler does a cabbage-patch dance while singing “Go Delbert! Go Delbert!”

Help me, Jim lad! I've gone and dropped me' contact lens! Yar!

Originally pitched to the studio by directors Ron Clements and John Musker at the same 1985 meeting as The Little Mermaid, the film was held back for over a decade while animation technology caught up with their vision. The film was also likely held back by studio chief Jeffrey Katzenberg, who didn’t like the concept (he was also against Dick Tracy and Fantasia 2000, while The Lion King was his baby; say what you will about the man, he has a sense for audience’s tastes.) A budget of $140 million yielded a worldwide return of less than $10 million, placing the film among Hollywood’s top 20 box office bombs. By the end of 2002, it was clear that the heady days of Disney’s animation renaissance were long over.

The directing duo of Clements and Musker have produced some of Disney’s most memorable films in the last 30 years - The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, and Moana among them. On the other hand, they’ve also produced a few works that I’d consider of questionable quality, including 1986’s The Great Mouse Detective and 1997’s Hercules. Treasure Planet shows signs that it could've been a great movie, but it too often falls back on easy gags and obvious attempts at pleasing specific demographics (mostly young boys.) The extent to which interference from up the corporate ladder affected the finished film may never be known, since Clements and Musker are some of the only artists left at the studio from the Eisner era (and therefore aren't in a hurry to bad-mouth their employers.) As it stands now, Treasure Planet serves as a fascinating artifact from a time when the future of traditional animation, at Disney and elsewhere, was in question.