George Miller’s penguin musical is strange, handsome and often funny for an hour, then grows a conscience it does not quite know how to carry. Worth a family evening, with a warning about where the second half goes.
George Miller has spent a career putting unlikely creatures through ordeals, and Happy Feet is the one where the creature tap-dances. It is a musical set among emperor penguins in Antarctica, written by Miller with Judy Morris, John Collee and Warren Coleman, about a chick who cannot sing in a society where singing is how you find a mate and keep your god. That is the most familiar children’s story there is. What Miller does with it is odd, handsome and funny for an hour, and then it becomes a different film, which we will come to. We liked it, with reservations about the last third.
The picture is the first thing. David Peers, Andrew Lesnie and Steve Newman are credited with the cinematography, and the virtual camera they built behaves like a real one on a long crane: it swoops off a cliff, drops through the water with a diving bird and comes up under the ice with the light arriving in green sheets. Mark Sexton’s production design keeps Antarctica blue, white and grey, with no sunset pink to sweeten it. When winter comes and the males stand in a huddle with eggs on their feet, taking turns on the cold outside of the circle, the blizzard tears at them and nothing on the soundtrack tells you what to feel. It is the loneliest image we can remember in an animated film for children.
The songs are pop standards sung by the cast, and the gimmick wears thin faster than the dancing does. Hugh Jackman’s Memphis courts Nicole Kidman’s Norma Jean in an Elvis drawl, Brittany Murphy’s Gloria has the big voice, and the mash-ups that follow are clever in the way a good wedding band is clever. John Powell’s score is better than the karaoke: he folds the old tunes into the orchestra and lets the tap itself, sharp and percussive, carry the big numbers. Margaret Sixel and Christian Gazal cut the dances long, so you can see the feet, which is more than most live-action musicals manage.
Elijah Wood plays Mumble as earnest and slightly dim, and it works because the bird is drawn with eyes too large for his head. Hugo Weaving’s Noah, the elder who blames the fish shortage on Mumble’s feet, is a sermon in a collar of feathers and a pleasure every time he opens his beak. Robin Williams is in it twice, as Ramon, the smallest and loudest of the Adelie gang who adopt Mumble, and as Lovelace, a rockhopper who dispenses wisdom in exchange for pebbles. The Ramon material is a run of accents and ad-libs that the children at our screening laughed at and we found tiring inside ten minutes. Lovelace, slower and sadder, is the better part, and Williams knows it.
The frightening scenes are properly frightening. Anthony LaPaglia’s Boss Skua comes down on the chick with three friends and the camera stays at chick height, so the beaks are enormous. We flinched, in a U certificate film, and then noticed what the bird has clamped round its leg: a yellow plastic tag, which it explains as the work of aliens. Miller plants these things early, a tag here, a ring of rubbish round Lovelace’s neck there, a shortage of fish nobody can account for. He is building towards something.
What he builds towards is where the film divides people, and we will not describe it beyond saying that the second half leaves the colony and changes its subject. We admire him for trying it. The shift from a tap-dancing comedy to a film with a point to make about the sea is handled with less tact than the first hour led us to expect: the point is made once in pictures, which is enough, and then again in a stretch of plot that plays like an afterthought. Several of the reviews so far have found the tone of the last act disconcerting; we found it rushed, which is a different complaint. At 108 minutes the film is not long, but the last twenty feel made by someone watching the clock.
Set against Miller’s own work it sits beside Babe: Pig in the City, in which he took a children’s story somewhere dark and did not apologise. That film was braver and held together; this one is prettier and loses its nerve at the end. Watch it with children if you have them. They will want to dance during the first hour, and they will have questions about the second, which is more than most films with singing animals leave behind.