Shrek 2
dir. Andrew Adamson
Dreamworks Pictures
The first Shrek film is like the green guy himself: a big, ugly,
mean-spirited ogre. The movie's vile sense of humor (Snow White
as a slut who sleeps with all seven dwarves and a gingerbread man who says "eat
me") was marketed and received as "hip" entertainment, when the film is simply raunch masquerading as a children's movie. To accept the
original Shrek as children's entertainment is to accept the premise that
kids "just don't get it," or that they don't repeat the things they hear and
process it as acceptable behavior. Because kids are innately
impressionable, it's immoral to directly market over-the-top vulgarity to 6-year-
olds.
Look at what's going on in that film: Shrek's nemesis, King Farquaad (an unusual name that
suspiciously sounds like a slant rhyme of "fuckwad"), has a castle is
clearly modeled on Disney World, and his stewarding of fairytale
characters places him in the Michael Eisner role. Dreamworks producer
Jeffrey Katzenberg, famously slighted by Disney's head man, used this Shrek
character to, among other crimes, state that he think Eisner has a small
penis or, as the ogre tells us, "is compensating for something."
Katzenberg, clearly bitter about his Disney experience, wants to pulverize
the Disney fairytale factory; his method is to smut up a paper-thin plot
with thinly veiled hard-on jokes about Pinocchio's nose. Contrast this with
Pixar and Disney's Toy Story movies, which contained rather "adult" themes
like Buzz Lightyear's identity crisis and Woody's quest for immortality, without a
single poop joke or penis reference. Katzenberg's bitterness might have
made for good box office, but from a sheer storytelling perspective, the
first Shrek is undeniably hypocritical: Shrek assumes that the audience is
too hip for all that fairytale nonsense, and then turns itself into just
that in its conclusion.
Thus it comes as a great relief that Shrek 2 is far less mean-spirited
and offensive, while retaining enough of its irreverent tone to keep its
characters fresh. In the first film, Shrek was a curmudgeon with an agenda
of peace and quiet, with all the subtlety and sensitivity of Jack Nicholson
in As Good As It Gets. Here, Shrek is a partially reformed husband
trying to make good with Fiona's royal parents, which proves difficult,
considering that their beautiful daughter now strolls the red carpet as a
giant green ogre. Complicating matters, Fiona's father is in league with
the Fairy Godmother, who is grooming her Maxim-chic son Prince Charming to
take Fiona as a prize. In contrast with the first film, much more of the
plot is grounded in multiple relationships the sequel understands that
"adult" can mean "complex," not just "with persistent smutty undertones." Kids will enjoy Shrek and
Donkey's antics; adults can laugh as Shrek invades the town of Far Far
Away, which has a Hollywood-like sign and houses giant factories that
produce magic potions. That's a far better and more adult critique of the
fairy tale than Shrek commenting on Farquaad's "compensation."
Sure, there's still a disconcerting amount of toilet humor (words spelled in
pigeon poop, something called "toadstool softener," Shrek and Fiona making
fart bubbles in a hot tub full of mud), but Dreamworks' digital animation
has evolved considerably since the original. That movie featured very
little in the way of action, and what action it had was far less fluid and
exhilerating than Finding Nemo's ocean current or Monsters, Inc.'s trapdoor
chase. In fact, the first Shrek relied so heavily on smut that there was
more drama in Fox's trailer for Ice Age (featuring a prehistoric squirrel
chasing a nut across what seems like the whole Arctic ice shelf) than in the
whole 90 minutes of Shrek. But the sequel has clearly devoted more
time to weaving together the script and the animation; for example, the big
meeting between Shrek and Fiona's father is built by a clever rotating,
overlapping dialogue sequence that shows us how their anxieties are in proportion to their love for Fiona. It's a mundane plot point that a
lazier film would have just trudged through, but Shrek 2 takes the time to
create a sense of anticipation in the editing of the sequence.
Most important, Shrek 2 features the most bizarre and intriguing supporting
character in the short history of digital animation: Antonio Banderas as
the ambiguously gay Zorro tabby cat, Puss In Boots. Puss is sent by the
Fairy Godmother to slay Shrek (Mike Myers) and Donkey (Eddie Murphy), but ends up joining their
quest helpful to the duo as a companion and to take screen time away from
the overbearing Donkey. A swashbuckler, Puss swishes around the forest like
Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, strutting and posing in his
fabulous boots and feathered hat, paralyzing enemies with his pathetic,
giant kitty doe-eyes. Banderas voices Puss with the sort of camp that would
have enlivened his The Mask of Zorro the way Depp did Pirates. In fact,
Banderas and Puss steal the movie right from Myers and Murphy, like when Puss
prepares for Shrek and Fiona's ball ("Now
we are
sexy!" in a voice that
might be a parody of Chris Kattan's Antonio impression on "Saturday Night
Live") or gets busted for possession of catnip in a parody of "COPS"
("Capitalist pigs!" he screams at the guards). You get anxious for the film to dispense of whatever plot it needs to get back to Puss. In a total coup, Puss
upstages Donkey in a duet of "Living La Vida Loca" over the final credits.
The tabby even takes a pre-emptive shot at Garfield: Puss says "I hate
Mondays" as if he's a melancholy lover on a Latino daytime soap opera.
Though Shrek 2 is a vast improvement on the first film, the action-filled
last act reveals that Dreamworks has yet to elevate its digital animation to
the level of Pixar. There's an amusing sequence in which Pinocchio drops in
to rescue Shrek, filmed as a parody of the famous Mission: Impossible scene.
It's a clever premise, but as if aware of how weak the execution is, the
movie resorts to showing Pinocchio getting a wedgie from thong underwear.
Pixar's equivalent scenes Woody's escape from the bedroom, or Buzz Lightyear's
dramatic rescues are individually creative works, sustained sequences of
action that have self-contained dramatic arcs. Here, the action scenes are
overwrought with slow-motion and liberally borrowed from other films: In
addition to the Mission: Impossible and "COPS" parodies, the "Eat Me"
Gingerbread Man enlargens into a Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man figure from
Ghostbusters, and there's a dance sequence eerily reminiscent of the
"Roxanne" set piece from Moulin Rouge. Still, Shrek 2 shows Dreamworks is finding its own voice in digital animation, a welcome development with
Pixar's uncertain future. Perhaps Shrek was right about Eisner's oops, I
mean Farquaad's shortcomings, but parents and fans of children's movies
should welcome this kinder, gentler Shrek.
Stephen Himes (stephenhimes@hotmail.com)