If there is any kind of super-narrative to the works of Pixar, it might be the search for belonging. While their narrative output hasn't been as consistent as Walt Disney Animation Studios (who have been exploring variations of the same themes for nearly 90 years), the legendary computer animation studio does seem to return often to this notion of a character searching for their place in the world. It isn't that they're running away from some sort of oppression or abuse, but simply that the life they're living doesn't seem to fit them, like a piece of clothing that has shrunk in the wash. The best of their recent output ('Luca', 'Turning Red') have explored this theme in refreshing and inspiring ways, while others ('Onward', 'Elemental') have relied on tired tropes to regurgitate much of what we have seen before.
Their latest film, 'Elio', sits somewhere in the middle. On one hand, there's little here that feels entirely original or vital. On the other hand, there are genuine moments of beauty and awe that, even with my misgivings, sent shivers up my spine. It's in these moments that the film finds kinship with a 'Luca' or a 'Turning Red', leading with emotional honesty rather than a formula for what the audience expects.
11-year-old Elio Solis (Yonas Kibreab) finds himself living with his aunt Olga (Zoe Saldaña, 'Avatar') after the sudden death of his parents. After a visit to a space museum, he becomes fixated on being abducted by aliens, convinced that somewhere out there in the universe is where he belongs. When a strange signal is picked up by the military base where Olga works, Elio is able to make contact with the Communiverse, a congress of representatives from across the galaxies who believe Elio is the leader of Earth and put him forward as a candidate to join them. In an effort to impress the Communiverse, Elio volunteers to negotiate with the tempestuous warlord Lord Grigon (Brad Garrett, TV's 'Everybody Loves Raymond'), who is threatening to invade and destroy the Communiverse, but when Elio connects with his slug-like son Glordon (Remy Edgerly, 'Sing 2') and the two become friends, Elio begins to question where his place in this big universe around him might actually be.
SWITCH: 'ELIO' TRAILER 2
'Elio', initially directed by 'Coco' co-director Adrian Molina before being handed to 'Turning Red' director Domee Shi and 'Burrow' director Madeline Sharafian, feels like a film being pulled in a number of different directions, though this doesn't end up being as much of a problem as with other, lesser Pixar films. The opening ten minutes of the film are stunning, a level of gentle and precise visual storytelling that's been missing from animations out of the United States for a good few years. We meet Elio right in the throes of grief, barely able to speak, and the way the film transitions him from crumbling to inspired is breathtaking. This follows through the first act, with us watching his obsession with space and aliens turn into a kind of mania. Pixar is well-known for using its stories as metaphors for loss or grieving, but here it refreshingly makes that obvious right off the bat. In fact, you get the sense that Elio is fully aware this is the foundation for his obsession. Rather than being saccharine or heavy-handed, Shi and Sharafian balance this with the same rambunctious humour that made 'Turning Red' such a slam dunk, injecting the film with a tremendous energy and spark. It's impossible not to be charmed by Elio and invested in his determination to be abducted by aliens as soon as possible.
It's once the abduction happens that the film begins to lose its footing. It feels similar to the second act problems with 'Coco' - now that the setup has happened, the film finds that there isn't much story there to explore. Once we're past the wonder of the Communiverse, it becomes less ambitious in scope rather than more so, disappointing after the beautiful gestures of the first act. Now that Elio has achieved his goal, it's hard for the film to find him a new one, the closest it comes being Elio's insistence on pretending to be something he's not in order to fit in. It's a good, solid trope to fall back on, but it doesn't feel strong enough in this context, especially with Lord Grigon proving to be an insubstantial antagonist. There's also an issue of the film trying to push the humour too hard, as if louder and sillier will make up for an anticipated lack of interest from a younger audience. Pixar at its worst feels like filmmaking done by committee, and at its lowest, 'Elio' does suffer from this. There are too many small ideas happening here and not enough big, clear, confident ones.
Thankfully, the structural uncertainty of the second act is almost saved with the arrival of Glordon, a much-needed foil and sidekick for Elio. This seems to be the year for slug-like aliens with sharp teeth who turn out to be unexpectedly cute (after the Creepers in 'Mickey 17'), and thanks in large part to Edgerly's gorgeous voice performance, you're just as charmed by Glordon as you are with Elio. The story team wisely build their friendship on honesty (Glordon is the only alien Elio tells the truth to about him only being a child), and that builds an instant trust between them that becomes vital to the third act. They're two kids caught in a bind, expected to be something they're not, and it becomes their collective mission to help one another be who they want to be.
It opens the film up to a bigger discussion of why we as a species look to the stars and wonder if we're really alone out here.
While the third act does struggle at points to recover some of the energy lost in the second, it's helped by the directing team's insistence on emotional honesty over the dreaded Pixar emotional manipulation. The more poignant story beats feel mostly earned, and where we leave Elio and Glordon demonstrates a growth that doesn't feel pap or definitive. It also opens the film up to a bigger discussion of why we as a species look to the stars and wonder if we're really alone out here. While the narrative never feels as big as it could be, in these moments the heart of the film suddenly feels so much bigger, and the sincerity with which it does this places 'Elio' above the recent disappointments of 'Lightyear', 'Elemental' and 'Inside Out 2'.
From a technical standpoint, 'Elio' is another obvious triumph for Pixar, but there's a fascinating texture to the film that distinguishes it from the artificial spit-and-polish we're used to. I wouldn't go so far as to call it a grittiness, but the look of the film seems almost an echo of the distinct shot-on-video TV quality of Carl Sagan's landmark 1970s series 'Cosmos', a key thematic touchstone for the film. There's a grainy quality to the image, an over-saturated quality to the colours, as if they're just gently bleeding into one another. Rob Simonsen's gorgeous score also feels indebted to the great space documentaries of the 70s and 80s, creating a sense of (dare I say it, but in a positive sense) nostalgia for that feeling of being a little kid obsessed with space and planets and stars and galaxies, little pinpoints of light that, in those programs, suddenly burst with mystery and colour. That's another aspect of 'Elio' that really charmed me, an integrity about the way it speaks to our fascination with space. Elio looks at the stars and believes they have the answer to where he belongs, which is exactly why we all do it. It also helps that the film makes reference to proper space nerd stuff like the gold record on the Voyager satellite or the belt of space junk circling the Earth.
As well as the great work from Remy Edgerly, Yonas Kibreab is a genuine delight as Elio, able to balance his manic obsessiveness with an undercurrent of fear and anger at being alone and forgotten. He also gets to have great fun counterbalancing Elio with a clone the Communiverse creates for him so no one will notice he's missing, one of the film's best and funniest subplots. As expected, Zoe Saldaña is great as Olga, communicating her frustration and bafflement at suddenly becoming a parent to her nephew without her love for him ever feeling performative or insincere. Her chemistry with Kibreab is special and genuine. Of the alien characters, Shirley Henderson really stands out as OOOOO, a tiny globular computer companion to Elio, her gentle voice and wry cheekiness coming through so beautifully that it's a wonder she hasn't been in many, many more animated films. The rest of the voice cast tends to fall into the expected amorphous tropes of likeable yet forgettable, though Brendan Hunt's character Gunther, a fellow analyst at the military base, is so aggressive and bombastic that it threatens to derail the film. It's not so much Hunt's fault as a badly-pitched comic tone in a film that didn't need it.
The opening minutes of 'Elio' really blew my socks off, enough that I was already choking back tears, and while the rest of the film never really lives up to that opening, that isn't to say this is another easily forgettable Pixar film. There's a genuine charm and magic to 'Elio', a gentleness and a cheekiness that's almost undeniable. Elio feels so relatable and recognisable, a young kid trying to unravel the unimaginable through something he can obsess about and control, something that belongs entirely to him, something that might be able to provide an escape from the sadness he feels. The narrative may never solidify, but the heart of the film is clear and strong. There was also a moment during my screening where I realised how quiet the cinema was, a cinema with plenty of children in it. They seemed fully engaged with the film, actively involved in Elio's story. Perhaps that's a sign that younger audiences still have a thirst for original storytelling as well as recognisable IP. Great characters, a good story and a healthy serving of heart and soul - isn't that what makes a great film?