There’s a moment in Peter Jackson’s sublime adaptation of J.
R. R. Tolkein’s The Two Towers in
which our hero, Frodo Baggins, appears devoid of all hope. “What are we holding
onto?”, he asks his loyal companion, Samwise Gamgee. Turning away from the
devastation of conflict and the fires of hatred, Sam replies “That there’s good
in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for”. This unshakeable belief
in the goodness of others is the essential spirit of Kubo and the Two Strings, the magnificent new film from Laika.
Our hero is the eponymous Kubo (Art Parkinson); a one-eyed,
fatherless boy who spends his days caring for his heartbroken mother and (in an
ingenious metaphor for the art of animation itself) astonishing the people of his
village by transforming sheets of paper into fantastical legends with a pluck
of his guitar strings. When twin evil aunts (sporting V for Vendetta-style masks and voiced by Rooney Mara) attempt to
draw him into the clutches of his grandfather (Ralph Fiennes), Kubo’s mother
imparts the last of her own magic onto her son. Cast out into the wilderness,
Kubo is joined by a wary protector, Monkey (Charlize Theron) and soon after by
Beetle (Matthew McConaughey), a forgetful samurai trapped in an insect body.
The three embark on a quest to find three mystical objects (the sword
unbreakable, the breastplate impenetrable, and the helmet invulnerable), all of
which will help Kubo defeat his grandfather.
As if there was the tiniest doubt, the animation is flawless, an exquisite meld of painstakingly
handcrafted stop-motion and tasteful computer enhancements. First-time director
Travis Knight (previously an animation supervisor for the studio) makes sure
his peers’ work is cut out for them, and that aspiring animators (a parish to
which yours truly previously belonged) have something truly remarkable to
aspire to. An animation is only ever as good as the cast who breathe life into
it, and the voiceover work here is an endearing effort by all, particularly
Theron as the sardonic ape guardian. McConaughey’s Beetle is also charming, and
Fiennes – of course – makes top villain material.
What seems on the outside to be a fairly predictable,
kid-friendly adventure story is revealed to be anything but. The first five
minutes are near-silent; depicting our young hero’s daily attempts to connect
with his distant, non-responsive mother. After a day spent regaling the town
with fabulous stories, Kubo returns to the cave he and his mother call home as
the sun sets, and leans in to hug her. It’s the smallest, most recognisable gesture,
but immediately opens the mind (not to mention the tear ducts). Laika’s past
works (including kiddie horror Paranorman
and grungy knockabout The Boxtrolls)
have rarely tapped into the audience’s emotions as easily as perhaps Pixar
might, but with Kubo it’s
instantaneous, and – as with the most enduring of stories – has something to
offer for everyone. The scary monsters and swooping action sequences will work
wonders for children, whilst small notes in the dialogue can be expected to
draw knowing glances between adults: “We’re not arguing, we’re just having a
grown-up conversation!”
It’s also a very playful film that likes to throw around
ideas and concepts about the nature of storytelling. Kubo faces the prospect of
concluding his origami swashbucklers with lip-trembling reluctance, but Beetle
is quick to re-assure him that stories never really end. It’s a beautifully
uplifting and touching moment in a film with about a thousand of them. Laika weave this tale for us, this shining
pearl of genuine optimism after a summer chock full of cynical attempts to
rehash previous childhood delights, and all they ask in return is that we pay
attention. “If you look away, even for an instant, then our hero will surely
perish”, warns Kubo’s opening voiceover, and you daren’t blink, lest this pure
and delicate wonder be whisked away to a world more deserving of its magic.
