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IF THE
world of computer feature animation were, say, a couple
of characters in a sitcom, Pixar would be the smart,
sensitive, well-mannered overachiever and DreamWorks
would be the loud, bumbling, insecure, media-addled
doofus. Which is why the gorgeous, highly stylized,
old-school 2-D hand-drawn animation sequence at the
beginning of Kung Fu Panda comes as such a big surprise.
For a moment, you’re lulled into believing that the
studio that never met a moldy pop-culture reference it
didn’t want to marry has undergone a lightning-bolt
conversion to sophisticated, confident storytelling. But
it all turns out to be a dream. Literally. The sequence
that kicks off the movie is the recurring dream of a
three-dimensional panda bear named
Po, whose every strand of panda fur is lovingly digitally
rendered by a bank of computers.
That’s
not to say that Kung Fu Panda doesn’t look good. For a
DreamWorks production, especially, it looks fantastic.
Gone are the studio’s usual penchant for garishness and
lack of stylistic unity; the claustrophobic, sealed-in
worlds; the horrible neon colors; the feeling that
everything’s been dipped in a hard plastic coating.
Instead, production designer Raymond Zibach and art
director Tang Heng, who spent years researching Chinese
art and architecture (not to mention kung fu movies),
have inserted vast, moody, misty landscapes, fanciful
interiors and traditional Chinese colors (red and gold
dominate) to give the movie an epic, expansive, ancient
quality that’s a real pleasure to inhabit.

The
character design is clever too. The Furious Five, the
greatest kung fu masters in the land, are
anthropomorphized animals based on the Shaolin five
animal fighting system. There’s Tigress (voiced by
Angelina Jolie), Crane (David Cross), Mantis (Seth Rogen),
Viper ( Lucy Liu) and Monkey ( Jackie Chan). The action,
heavily influenced by
Hong Kong martial arts films, is beautifully choreographed.
Then
there’s the panda, whose main function is to temper all
this loveliness by bringing us back down to Earth—Earth
being, naturally, America circa now. Po is voiced by
(and in many ways modeled on the persona of) Jack Black.
An overweight and lazy arrested adolescent of
indeterminate age, Po lives with his noodle-making
father in the peaceful valley below the Jade Palace,
where Zen master Oogway (Randall Duk Kim), kung fu
master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) and his disciples, the
Furious Five, reside. Po is expected to take over the
family business someday but dreams instead of becoming a
kung fu master. Not that he has any kung fu skills, or
training, or talents. Apart from a complete set of
Furious Five action figures and an active fantasy life,
he has none of what it takes to succeed in his chosen
field. Which is OK! Because what counts, as self-esteem
curricula has prescribed and government leaders have
demonstrated, is that the panda believe in himself no
matter what his limitations, deficiencies or
proclivities, and no matter what anybody else thinks.

Po’s
destiny is altered when, along with the rest of the
village, he shows up at the Jade Palace one day to watch
Oogway choose a Dragon Warrior among the five masters
and winds up getting himself elected instead. Oogway’s
choice is especially egregious in the face of the danger
faced by the community: Shifu’s erstwhile top student
and son-figure, the Luciferian snow leopard Tai Lung
(Ian McShane), is said to be planning to escape from
prison and attack the valley.
“That
flabby panda can’t possibly be the answer to our
problems,” Shifu complains.
To which
Oogway replies: “There are no accidents.”

That’s
one example of the many afternoon talk-show platitudes,
served up by the wise geezers of Kung Fu Panda and meant
to pass for Zen wisdom. Oogway also says things like,
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today
is a gift. That’s why we call it the present.”
Thankfully, he dies soon afterward.
Shifu
eventually catches on to the only motivating factor Po
responds to—food—and manages to train him into a decent
fighter. This discovery leads to the funniest sequence
in the movie, but it’s pretty dispiriting as far as
messages go. The kid who eats unconsciously when he’s
upset is handed the secret to invincibility after a
couple of training sessions? The slacker panda whose
favorite word is “awesome” is singled out for heroism
when all the other characters have worked long and hard
(the definition of kung fu) and sacrificed for what
they’ve accomplished? The message—believe in yourself
even when all evidence suggests you shouldn’t—is
annoyingly familiar and frankly overdue for a serious
debunking, but it’s not about to happen here. |