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SOMETHING thoughtfully generational is taking place. The
Chipmunks are back and we are a happier world. The gauge
of this happiness is in the grin and smile present on
the faces of those who were lucky to see the boys—Alvin,
Simon and Theodore—singing, dancing and pestering Dave
before their return to the pop-culture landscape opens
in Philippine theaters next week.
For
those who grew up in the late ‘70s and ‘80s, the
Chipmunks were part of the animation universe,
entertaining kids and teenagers who were also kids with
their antics. Unidimensional, perhaps, but the frisky
creatures then were mascots to a whole generation’s fun
and more. For those who were born earlier than the ‘70s,
the Chipmunks were up there in that shaky but winning
category in music called novelties. They were real for
us, and they were not rodents but enchanting beings
caught by some artists to sing for us.
Ross
Bagdasarian Sr. was the man behind this creative and
created endeavor—a trio of tiny animals that would
uniquely become part of pop culture. Now, his son, Ross
Bagdasarian, dreaming of producing a film that would
capture the unique characteristics of the Munks and
their music, brings us back the kids, the ultimate
heartbreak kids from the woods, with the help of another
producer, Janice Karman.
The
question among the fans—and they encompass three
generations—is not why filmmakers and animators would
bring back the Chipmunks, but rather...why only now? Why
only now, indeed.
The film
bears the simple title
Alvin and the Chipmunks.
Alvin
who? Well, Alvin and Simon and Theodore belong to that
group of pop icons that go only by one name, which is
more than enough. (Think Madonna. Or
Cher.) They were as big as LP records and as popular as
television, when TV was TV. They are back to disturb,
harass, support (an effort that always brings them to
trouble) and love Dave. They are also back, reincarnated
in the whole new world of state-of-the-art animation, a
fusion of technology and myth-making.
The
enterprise is not that easy. Alvin and Simon and
Theodore and their corresponding images are so embedded
in our consciousness that to present or represent them
is fraught with danger, like retouching Mt. Rushmore or
rebricking the Great Wall of China. And yet, we also
know that the years can be made to serve the Munks. That
technology can best serve them as we bring them back to
our living room and our consciousness.
The
producers knew this and what we get as a result is a
treat: the Munks updated but not turbo-cooked, cool and
with just the right amount of edge for us to recognize
them and, most charmingly, recognize us in them.
The
story is patent. Dave is down a and out-of-luck
composer. The only consistent thing in his life is the
rejection he gets from his record producer. One day, by
one swing of the ax, the tree house of Alvin, Simon and
Theodore is taken out of the forest and transformed into
a Christmas tree right at the lobby of the music
company. From there, the trio ends up in the Christmas
basket of muffins of Dave. And life is never the same
again for this odd alliance: a bumbling Everyman and a
group of acorn-chomping beings. Dave will go through his
ups and downs, the series of mishaps brought about by
the chipmunks all eager to help out their newfound
father. He will win and lose, and the chipmunks will win
and lose and be exploited by a ruthless record producer.
The
story is seriously hilarious. However it tries to bring
us to the dark side of greed and success, it never is
able to do that. Thanks to Alvin and Simon and Theodore
who rush and roll throughout the film with their unique
characteristics, not too human enough but not chipmunky
either.
Interestingly and to our favor, the producers have tried
their very best to retain the essence of the characters
we grew up with. As Karman, the coproducer, explains in
the production notes: “You could look at Alvin and even
though he’s three-dimensional now in CGI, the spirit of
the original creation is still there.” This is the
essence of Alvin and the Chipmunks, that the essence is
really there.
Indeed,
the filmmakers have resolutely stayed true to the “inner
Munk” of these beloved figures:
Alvin’s mischievous but well-intentioned nature, Simon’s brainy
intellect and Theodore’s adorable charm—all remain
intact, and that’s the reason we can only smile
throughout the movie.
The film
is like a coming home and seeing these familiar faces,
these familiar creatures. It is no accident that the
theme of this romp is home, the warmth and familiarity
of home. Three kids are in search of home. It is an
appealing theme made insanely charming by chipmunks.
For
fans, it is good to see the dynamics of the trio: Alvin,
incorrigible and always threatening to run off to
adventures; Simon, intelligent and cautious; Theodore, a
bit naïve and always seeking emotional support. The
production avoids to make the three
anthropomorphic—entirely human—and it shows. Where the
film soars and flies off into never-neverland are in the
scenes where the boys are chipmunks. They dart off in
whisking motion but they talk and they sing “Funkytown.”
And there is always that ingredient of vulnerability.
Think of Alvin this time vulnerable and you have a
promise of a wink and a smile.
Tim Hill
directs this engaging film, with the screenwriting team
of Will McRobb and Chris Viscardi giving important
contributions to the final screenplay. Jon Vitti from
The Simpsons is credited in the screenplay, and for the
updating.
Rhythm &
Hues, the same group behind the penguin vaudeville Happy
Feet, animated the chipmunks. Animation supervisor
Lyndon Barrois directed the performances of the
Chipmunks through 73 Los Angeles-based animators and
another 10 in India. According to Barrois, the principal
challenge was one of scale. “Alvin, Simon and Theodore
are small and have to interact with humans while keeping
their chipmunk characteristics,” he says. “We wanted
audiences to believe these are talking/singing/dancing
chipmunks—but they’re still chipmunks!”
It
helps, of course, that Jason Lee (My Name is Earl)
endearingly recognizes the boys as chipmunks with the
heart and hope of small kids, even allowing Theodore,
who always wakes from a nightmare, to snuggle close to
his neck. |