The landscape of cinema and entertainment was irrevocably altered on June 28th of this year, with the release of Pixar’s latest computer animated epic, WALL·E, which proved itself to be not only the best yet production of the Disney-owned company, but to be unquestionably, inarguably the greatest motion picture ever made.
That’s right. Ever. And it’s not even close. This is a film in a class so distinctly its own that it barely can be squeezed into the existing parameters of how we define a movie. It so outdoes everything that’s come before that it is almost like watching some new, far superior form of entertainment unlikely ever to be duplicated.
Imagine what it was like when Socrates first put ink to parchment and world was blessed with the story of Oedipus. Or imagine the reaction when the curtain was rung down on the opening night of Romeo and Juliet. Or imagine the final notes of Don Giovanni crashing down on the audience at its premiere. Can you? I can. I was at a showing of WALL·E at the local multiplex last weekend.
Every frame, every moment, is sublime perfection. It conveys the full range of human emotions through a cuddly array of robots and cockroaches and clips from Hello Dolly and corpulent chair-bound successors to the human race. The gorgeous visuals coupled with tender sentiment, uproarious slapstick, tear-jerking romance, whiz-bang action, profound depth, and dazzlingly inventive creations work seamlessly to produce the most insightful, enjoyable film the world could ever have dared to dream possible.
Were Shakespeare, Van Gogh, and God to cosmically collaborate on a piece of art, it’s not much of a stretch to guess that it would resemble WALL·E, or more probably fall a hair shy. In the history of man’s creations, a countdown of sheer perfection now literally goes: the Mona Lisa, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, the Campbell’s Soup can, Michelangelo’s David, and Pixar’s WALL·E. Hell, when thrown into competition with nature’s creations, only peacock feathers, Mount Kilimanjaro, and the human earlobe come remotely close to this animated vision of wonder.
To try and remain spoiler-free, and therefore not rob you of any of the joy, amazement, or mind-expanding enlightenment you will receive in the viewing of this masterpiece, here is some attempt at a frame of reference. The narrative Pixar has created makes Hamlet look like Ernest Scared Stupid.
The visuals! Glory be, the visuals make the aurora borealis seem like a dull row of lampposts gone haywire. The inventive soundtrack and vocal work rivals the best attempts of Tchaikovsky and Brahms. And the hilarious comedic performances shames previously considered geniuses like Chaplin and Keaton into certain obscurity and oblivion. A thousand years from now the great inventions of our age will be universally accepted as the printing press, the personal computer, and Pixar’s crowning achievement.
Before straining the limits of credibility with excessive hyperbole and risking extreme exaggeration, let me just close by saying that were I given a choice between bringing my loved ones back from the dead, discovering a cure for cancer and herpes, ensuring world peace and harmony, knowing true happiness and how to attain it, and being assured of the existence of and my someday admittance to heaven, or being in possession of a DVD loaded with deleted scenes and making ofs for and assurance of a sequel to WALL·E, I’d debate it for about six seconds, and then I’D CHOOSE WALL·E.
– Produced and distributed by the publicity department of the Walt Disney Company, Pixar Animation Studios, and the Ad Council