Anticipation

We've divided up our parenting duties rather stereotypically. Noel and Archer are a pair, and Cady Gray and I are joined at the hip. I don't know that it's simple dad-son/mother-daughter XY/XX reasoning. Probably it's more because Cady Gray has had a more standard development in her attachment, and therefore she tends to latch on to the parent who's not the primary caregiver, whenever that parent is home. And that happens to be me.

So Noel started a tradition this year of taking Cady Gray to kids' movies as a special treat, something they could do together. (The equivalent special treat that Archer requested? Going to "mom's school" and looking at room numbers in as many buildings as possible.) But when he got the chance to see Up at a critics' screening a couple of weeks ago, the organizers told him that he couldn't bring a child along. So the two have been separated for this particular kid-friendly film.

Which means that Mom gets to step in for the special movie outing. And I can't decide whether this is wonderful and exciting, as Cady Gray thinks it is (with typical little girl hyperbole, she declares this "the best weekend EVER!"), because it's the summer film I'm most looking forward to and I get to share it with her -- or whether it's unfortunate because I won't get to enjoy the film free of listening to her chatter, taking her to the bathroom in the middle of the best part, and enduring the inevitable weariness when she's ready for the movie to be over but there's still half an hour to go.

I'm an unabashed Pixar enthusiast. Someday I need to do a whole semester where I show the whole Pixar catalog so we can all talk about what makes these movies extraordinary: the primacy of story and character over technique, innovative technique in the service of story and character, poignant and deeply-felt themes, belief in animation as an artistic medium, erasure of the distinction between adult and child. My anticipation for Up, it's fair to say, is sky-high, encouraged by Noel's report of how he was affected at the earlier screening. And my anxiety comes from that anticipation -- I don't want anything in between me and the movie. I want to soak in it.

The truth is, though, that you can't always accomplish that when you go to the theater. Even if you're alone, the other patrons are there obscuring your view and getting up at the wrong moment and talking or texting -- or not there, sucking the energy out of what's supposed to be a communal experience. It is what it is, and you need to accept that if you're going to see movies in theaters, the way (for the time being) they were intended.

So I'll try to compartmentalize the two experiences I'm so looking forward to -- that might not peacefully co-exist in one event. There's the movie I want to succumb to and see every frame of. And there's the time spent with my daughter having a special mother-daughter outing. The second one can take priority tomorrow, because I'll have another chance at the first when the DVD comes out, if nothing else. Movies are forever, but four years and ten months old munching popcorn and sitting next to mom at the theater ... that only comes around once in a lifetime.

Robot dreams

Tonight Noel and I are going to see WALL-E, a movie we've been anticipating ever since we saw the teaser trailers last year. The fact that it's turned out to be the best reviewed movie of 2008 is no surprise to us, just a confirmation of Pixar's ability to make something amazing out of an unlikely premise, a bold conception, and the best technology in the business.

We're unabashed fans of Pixar, the studio that both invented and perfected the computer-animated film. This week we co-authored an introduction to the Pixar body of work for the A.V. Club's Primer series. Rarely is it possible to witness such a string of success building upon success as Pixar has put together since the release of Toy Story in 1995. And it warms our geeky hearts that the way John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter, and Brad Bird have done it is by caring far more about the timeless elements of moviemaking -- character and story -- than the high-tech bells and whistles.

There are still a few folks out there -- I hear from them both in real life and on the net -- who think animation is all kid's stuff, not worth serious consideration. It's a common example of a much more general problem: the notion that there are subjects that are just beneath attention. A.V. Club commenters chastise us for writing about Disney Channel movies or reality shows. They have some kind of division in mind between the stuff that bears thinking about and the stuff that simply does not. I don't agree. There's something of interest nearly everywhere you look, and cultural phenomena that don't happen to be aimed at your demographic don't, therefore, become unworthy of notice.

In the case of Pixar, though, the dismissal is even more misguided. These are not just good animated films or good children's films. They are great movies, the Wizard of Oz and Casablanca and Star Wars of our time. Like the greatest art, they transcend their genre and should be cherished by anyone who cares about quality and the unique, miraculous conditions that produce it.