9

(*3 1/2 Stars*) Whenever I go to see an animated film in the theater, I feel inclined to dress with the same amount of discretion as if I am sauntering into a sex toy store. One can usually find me sporting a large hat (the larger and more obtrusive, the better…so I usually wear my Chevy’s birthday sombrero), a pair of substantially bulky sunglasses that lack all but the word “Censored” on them, and a trench coat (but since I don’t own one, I usually borrow my mom’s teal pea coat), so by the time I hand my ticket to the usher, it looks as if a homosexual mariachi player sent back in time to terminate Sarah Connor has entered the theater (I’ll be ay ay ay ay ay ba-ack! Don’t forget the hand flip). Once locating a seat amongst a vast sea of sugar-crazed munchkins, I then try to enjoy the animated flick while the child next to me laughs at everything on the screen with the same ferocity as a chimpanzee getting his foot stuck in a bear trap (is it inhumane if I feel the urge to Judo-chop the kid?). But for all you overly paranoid adults who dread the animated experience as much as I do, there is now a film for you!

The new animated sci-fi/action film 9, directed by Shane Acker and produced by Tim Burton and Timur Bekmambetov (the director of Wanted), is a movie as mysterious as my grandma’s persistent wedgie attacks whenever we go out in public (she couldn’t be wearing a thong, right?) and causes you to leave the theater pondering your own moral values (like whether or not I should pick her wedgie for her). With a star-studded cast that includes Elijah Wood, John C. Reilly, Jennifer Connelly, Crispin Glover, Martin Landau, and Christopher Plummer, the film 9 revolutionizes the warm, cuddly animated productions that we are so used to seeing on the silver screen, and instead causes us to depart introspectively with that Harrison Ford grin whittled onto our faces (Oh crap! Terrorists have hijacked my plane…but everything’s going to be alright). This is a definite must-see movie this fall.

The film is set in the not-too-distant-future, where an invention known as the Great Machine (which resembles a sinister-looking Magic 8-ball armed with a myriad of hostile robotic limbs like something you might find in a gynecologist’s tool box) has summoned the world’s machines to turn on mankind, annihilating the human population before being deactivated. While the human species is being slaughtered, one scientist sets out on the mission of salvaging the legacy of civilization by creating nine small “stitchpunks,” flaccid gingerbread men/women-looking innovations woven entirely of Hillbilly underwear and flies on people’s pants (kind of like McGiver trying to replicate Wall-E). Powered by the spark of life, these stitchpunks must call upon their individual strengths well beyond their miniature frames in order to outfox and destroy the still-functioning androids.

Now while most viewers may feel inclined to confer about the out-of-this-world graphics that are infused with Geppetto-like wizardry that seemingly breathe realism into the inanimate; or the apparently straightforward plot that gradually intensifies in complexity like the removal of the female bra; or the movie’s infamous Tim Burton-esque darkness that looms overhead throughout the picture as if we were watching a film about Dolly Parton’s bellybutton; what truly captured my attention were the character’s unique and distinguishing personalities. Whether it was being repulsed by 1’s (Christopher Plummer) stubbornness and knack for being as unsympathetic as a Vietnamese bikini-waxer, or being drawn to 7’s (Jennifer Connelly) heroics and death-defying antics that demasculated her fellow stitchpunks like a guy with a bellybutton ring, the audience feels a connection with each and every character.

This ability to identify with each character is a tribute to the clever revelations about human nature the movie carefully weaves into its plot. As we uncover in the end, the number 9 represents 9 parts of the human soul, which the benevolent scientist appropriates to each stitchpunk from his own being. What I feel is fascinating is that even though we may feel attracted to certain characters and repelled by others, all of their personalities (bravery, fear, compassion, indifference) are aspects of who we are as people and possess within us. The movie then indirectly proposes the question to the audience: when the going gets tough, what section of our soul will we rely upon to lead us out of harm’s way? Will we make decisions based on fear or be piloted by our unconditional compassion?

Because, in essence, this is what separates us from being alike the killer robotic kitty we see in the film with soulless eyes that emanate the same blinding light you experience when you walk in on my grandpa naked in the bathroom when he forgets to lock the door. Robots, although efficient, are deprived of the fundamental human capability to personalize and empathize, and instead dehumanize situations and make calculated decisions devoid of any heart or feeling. Thus, why it is so effortless for them to kill without expressing any guilt or grief. The film concludes by reminding us that the future is in our hands, and while there may be uncertainty, we have a choice of how it transpires based on how we elect to live our own lives. So leave your homosexual mariachi alter-egos at home and make sure to get a refund for your Judo-chopping karate lessons as soon as possible, because there is finally an animated film for adults to enjoy.