Coco (2017)

Over the last seven years, more than half of Pixar’s output has taken the form of sequels to their preexisting properties (disclosure: I’ve still not seen Finding Dory or Cars 3), and of their original fare only Inside Out has distinguished itself as belonging to that higher stratosphere of storytelling for which Pixar became known long ago. No slight to Brave or The Good Dinosaur, but I’ll claim Inside Out as standing quite apart from those fine but familiar endeavors. Coco is, however, a return to form for Pixar, taking us to a new world with a fresh narrative that ends up touching a few heart (and guitar) strings.

Against the wishes of his family, who believe that music has cursed their family, young Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez) has a secret shrine in his attic where he practices guitar and idolizes the world’s greatest musician, Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt). Miguel wants to play in a talent show on Día de los muertos, but a series of mishaps drops him into the land of the dead, where he’ll need the help of the nearly-forgotten Hector (Gael García Bernal) to reach Ernesto de la Cruz and rejoin his living family.

Director Lee Unkrich has been tied up with Coco since Toy Story 3 (2010), which was arguably Pixar’s finest film in the last ten years, so it’s a welcome relief to see finally what’s taken so long. On that count, Unkrich does not disappoint; Coco is the kind of film that reminds you what truly exceptional animated material looks like when it’s married to equally compelling storytelling. Yes, it’s a version of that same Pixar plot in which a character travels through a new place in order to return home while learning something about himself in the process, but the film feels so remarkably fresh that I didn’t notice this plot similarity until I went back to my review of The Good Dinosaur to remind myself why that film hadn’t worked as well.

One of Pixar’s remarkable strengths has always been its ability to create a world, and it’s that dexterity at world-building that has made Pixar sequels so appetizing to the general public – who wouldn’t want to rejoin The Incredibles or see what else is in the Toy Story toy box? As good as those sequels have been (or are expected to be), though, revisiting a world comes at the expense of building another one. Pixar’s always been quite deft at giving us a sideways glance at our own world, seeing what’s just out of sight and asking us to reimagine – to re-envision (emphasis on vision) – how we view our toys, our feelings, our fish. Here, surprisingly soberly, Coco takes us into the afterlife, through the particular lens of Mexican culture. In so doing, the film does a remarkable job at introducing this tradition to an audience who may not know an ofrenda from an alebrije. Coco is never directly didactic, but it strikes me as a fine primer on what another culture does on October 31.

Visually, Coco is a real delight. My screening of Coco was preceded by a little vignette about how many people participated in the film and how intricate their work was, so perhaps I was readied to appreciate the many details within the film’s animation. Individual illuminated buildings, the peculiar way each skeleton walks, the delicate ornamentation on each skull – to say nothing of the trademark Pixar bouncy ball and Pizza Planet truck – all are brought to startling life with what can only be described as “Pixar showing off” (as in the best it does). Like the famous pencil adjustment scene in The Incredibles, there’s no story relevance to Miguel having only one dimple when he smiles, but it’s a moment when Pixar can flex its animation muscles and play magician with a peek behind the digital curtain and a wink at its own prowess.

At the heart of the film is a smooth, effortless narrative which feels unique and takes the audience to surprising places, both geographically and emotionally. The film’s emphasis on music, so pivotal to Miguel’s self-discovery, also feels like a revelation from Pixar; though composer Michael Giacchino (who himself makes a small cameo) always serves as a worthwhile hand on deck, Coco approaches becoming a musical in a way that most Pixar fare has not, echoing WALL·E’s use of Hello, Dolly! as Miguel makes his way closer to his idol. If you don’t leave the theater humming at least one of the tracks from the film, consult an audiologist, because the songs are so inextricable from the core narrative, so vitally integrated, that the film might not succeed without them.

Coco does succeed, though, and it’s a blessing to have films like this in the world. Without the benefit or burden of extended universes, with a runtime healthily shy of two hours, and with a style that identifies it as uniquely itself, Coco is a fine reminder of what Lee Unkrich and Pixar can accomplish when they do what they do best. And hey, if there’s a Coco 2 in the distant future, I’m all for it; they will have earned it.

Coco is rated PG for “thematic elements.” Directed by Lee Unkrich and Adrian Molina. Written by Lee Unkrich, Adrian Molina, Jason Katz, and Matthew Aldrich. Starring Anthony Gonzalez, Gael García Bernal, Alanna Ubach, and Benjamin Bratt.

Bonus review! Coco is preceded by Olaf’s Frozen Adventure, in which magical snowman Olaf (Josh Gad) travels throughout Arendelle in search of a holiday tradition for Elsa and Anna (Idina Menzel and Kristen Bell). At twenty-one minutes, it’s evident that the short began life as a television holiday special in the vein of Toy Story of Terror! and Toy Story That Time Forgot, and perhaps the short would have fared better there than before a feature film, where it seems to overstay its welcome (conditioned as we are to expect an original short in the neighborhood of eight minutes). Audiences in Mexico have notably revolted, such that the short has been largely pulled from theaters there, and I do have to say that the short isn’t that bad. It’s possessing of the same charm extended from Frozen, though its songs are not quite as memorable and its story holds a little fat around the edges. But I certainly felt impatient around halfway through, so its length and placement would seem to have worked against the short. Frozen fans will love it, but the general audience might not be ready for a "short" of this magnitude.