Finding Dory ★★★★☆

Finding Dory, directed by Pixar alumnus Andrew Stanton, faces more than "how do you follow up Finding Nemo?" It also has to answer, "how do you follow up Monsters University and Cars 2?", the studio's last two features to lean on preexisting stories, and which seemed to hit a snag Pixar had not faced before. Despite the successes of two excellent Toy Story sequels, Monsters University and Cars 2 never felt like they were breaking new ground. Considering Pixar's ultimate strengths - originality built into heartwarming stories - it was odd to find they may have a sequel problem. It would be a particularly troubling issue since three of their next four releases are sequels to their existing films.

Finding Dory hits similar snags as Monsters University and Cars 2 to a degree. The plot is the story of Dory, a blue tang fish played by the affable Ellen DeGeneres, one day remembering she has a mother and father and setting off on an adventure to find them, accompanied by her friends Marlin and Nemo, voiced by Albert Brooks and Hayden Rolence. It feels clunky at points and set pieces don't interweave quite so elegantly as Pixar's original films. However, much to it's credit, Finding Dory finds room to breathe in the moments we spend with Dory and her interactions with her friends and family, old and new. And it's here that the film finds it's feet and shines.

Dory is as hilarious and loveable as she was in Finding Nemo. However, her ailment of short-term memory loss now takes a somewhat darker tone and for the first time, we're made to connect with Dory on an emotional level. We glimpse her life as an infant fish and that makes it all the more heartbreaking when we cut back to her struggling to remember it. The great strength of the film is taking what made Dory so funny in the original film and making us realise that it's a lot more painful for her. When she repeatedly introduces herself to a class, we laugh, but there's an undertone of unease for her. But by taking away Dory's memory as her defining personality trait, we're made to see her other qualities - her happy-go-lucky spirit, her determination and her care for those she loves. It makes Dory funnier and more enjoyable to watch, which is saying a lot for an already universally adored character. It's really grown-up stuff, yet shown so successfully in a way family films rarely accomplish.

This exploration of Dory's character is extrapolated further in the way her relationships are presented. Her parents, more than just the object of desire, represent her journey of self discovery. The film is less concerned about Dory's interactions with her parents, and more about how it forms her character and her interactions with other fish. It has a knock-on effect to how she is with Marlin and Nemo, who have a complicated relationship with her. Indeed, the development of their friendship is one of the strongest points of the film, making the clownfish an integral and enjoyable part of the story, and the audience's way in to understanding Dory.

Finally is Dory's new friend, Hank the septopus (having lost a tentacle), gifted a rich, bassy voice by Ed O'Neill. Grumpy but warm, Hank is one of the funniest characters and it's a joy to watch him flail his limbs and camouflage himself - the end credits are a particular delight for this. His strained collaboration with Dory is a little by the book, but it hardly matters. Finding Dory is so uncynical and full of heart, any dodgy plot points are instantly forgiven - it is telling that, in a room full of young families, not a single child was disruptive barring raucous laughter and even then, the grown ups were louder.

Further to Pixar's sequel success is Andrew Stanton's direction in cinematography. How easy it would be for the animators to walk the beaten path and return to the stunning corals and deep blues that captivated us in Finding Nemo. Instead, they find new underwater locations to set the film apart and relish in supreme detail outside of the water, where much of the film takes place. It's impressively partnered with Stanton's wide frames, that emphasize the staggering size of the ocean and underscore Dory and co's gigantic journey, as well the blue tang's immense loneliness. Pixar have looked bigger than a paint-by-numbers sequel to one of their most loved features - they have approached every aspect with fresh enthusiasm to do something different and their newest film is better for it, for fans, families and critics alike.

With Finding Dory, Pixar seem to have worked out the formula to intertextual film success outside of the Toy Story franchise, which bodes well in today's Hollywood and children's movies climate (the latter of which is experiencing its most competitive era ever). It's a recurring theme amongst recent Disney properties, which have been dominating third week box office figures, suggesting they can churn out fan favourites at a rate of knots. Whilst Pixar's strengths will always lie in their groundbreaking originality, Finding Dory ensures their future's bright for their expanded stories.

Short Film, Short Review - Piper

Giving us a glimpse into the life of the sandpiper (small birds which scavenge the seaside sand in search of food), Piper is a delight to watch. With a bouncing musical score to give life to a dialogue-empty story and a stunning micro perspective into a baby sandpipers struggle, Piper will extract a smile from even the grumpiest of viewers.

The Lobster ★★★★☆

Calling Yorgos Lanthimos'  The Lobster a weird film doesn't cut it. Even being told the premise of this arthouse-drama-rom-com-sci-fi (and breathe) isn't enough to prepare you for the quicksand pit of dry-as-a-bone humour and series of emotionally-stunted trysts you'll find yourself experiencing, never mind the surprisingly intense moments of physical danger.

In a mildly-hinted-at dystopian near future, David (Colin Farrell) has become a single man and, naturally, finds himself in a hotel with his dog of a brother, given just 45 days to find new love or else turn into an animal of his choosing. His choice is a lobster, exemplifying a running theme of animal imagery throughout the film that treads the line between subtly hilarious and heartbreakingly sad. Lanthimos will have you giggling at David's brother's uninspired decision to be a dog one moment and then have you emotionally reach out for a pony who has to say goodbye to her scorned human best friend. 

This thematic line permeates the whole film and is presented to us from the offset - the opening scene is a stationary shot of a woman leaving her car to shoot a cow in a field. You don't know whether to laugh or feel mortified and The Lobster rarely lets you experience one without the other. Even as the dramas of the film reach their crescendo, there is a joke about a blind person, a stray camel walking past in the background or some other insensitive humour.

These moments offer little by way of comic relief and indeed there's little relief in The Lobster at all. No person is truly comfortable in this world and often it seems that is all anyone is aiming for  - a respite from the madness, a calm from the roar of loneliness, a break from running full pelt through the woods with a dart gun. 

This uneasiness all plays under the surface for Colin Farrell and Rachel Weisz. Their acting prowess and comedic timing is demonstrated not in what they say, but in what they don't. They tackle the offbeat script with deftness and subtlety, with Farrell echoing the pining stares and quiet discomfort he displayed in In Bruges (2008). Weisz brings surprising humour to what could be a flat character, proving that she has a part in the awkward, dry comedy that is so popular in indie cinema. The film is littered with a host of other stars, who all fit their characters to a tee - Olivia Coleman plays the overbearing hostess, Léa Seydoux portrays the Katniss Everdeen-esque outlaw and Ben Whishaw is the limping man who lies his way into a relationship. That's not to say any one of these stars (as well as John C. Reilly as Lisping Man and Michael Smiley as Loner Swimmer) aren't challenged. They have also had to adapt to a script of stunted speech and peculiar timing as well as endure cringe-inducing acts of physical abuse.

That harm that comes to several characters is an important one to note. The scenes are not shocking because of how explicit they are, but because they transform the film from a quirky, slightly dark comedy into a gripping, hard sci-fi that serves up plenty of allegory and forms much more interesting characters. In a story where it feels as if nobody is where they want to be, these moments of violence make their desperation much more painful, taking David and his cohorts to a bleak place. The Lobster leaves it's characters and audience in a more depressing state than which it began, yet somehow you walk out of the cinema more humoured and bewildered than pessimistic. You may depart Farrel and Weisz to their surreal, grey world, but you'll take with you all the joy that which they were bereft.


*side note - This is the second film Whishaw has been in recently where he's thrown the central character out of his residence, the other being Suffragette. I haven't yet seen Spectre, but I'm now expecting a front-porch stand-off between Q and Bond.