Brad Bird makes a funny, deeply moving animated film about friendship and the choice not to hurt people. The moral divisions are sometimes too tidy, but we believe in the boy and his giant throughout.
The Iron Giant trusts children with a question that plenty of adults would rather leave alone: what makes violence acceptable? Brad Bird builds his answer around a boy and a robot from space, and makes their friendship funny and moving enough to carry a lesson about refusing to hurt people. We recommend it warmly, including to households with no children to account for the choice. The friendship unfolds in an America shaped by Cold War suspicion.
Hogarth Hughes, voiced by Eli Marienthal, has the smaller body and the greater responsibility in this friendship. Vin Diesel gives the giant a childlike quality that lets us believe he needs the boy, despite his size. We were moved by Hogarth taking on the patient work of teaching this enormous creature how to behave. The humour comes from a boy having to be the grown-up, and the tenderness comes from the giant’s willingness to learn. Bird allows that dependence to matter without treating the creature as a pet.
The animation takes much of its appeal from the clear shapes and direct storytelling of 1950s comic-book art. Steven Wilzbach’s cinematography and Mark Whiting’s production design make that America inviting, which makes its fear of the giant more unsettling. Drawn animation and computer effects for the giant sit comfortably together, with no distracting difference between the creature and his human companions. The pictures keep the difference in scale legible without making the smaller figures seem unimportant.
Darren T. Holmes’s editing keeps the action brisk without cutting short the pleasure of watching the boy and giant together. At 86 minutes, the film makes room for affection, comedy and danger without seeming anxious to get the quieter business over with. Michael Kamen’s spare score helps by letting us respond without continually insisting on a particular feeling. There are no musical numbers, and the friendship never seems to need one.
Tim McCanlies’s screenplay is less persuasive when it sorts the human world into attitudes towards the giant. The divisions between curiosity and fear can feel too tidy, and a little more uncertainty would have made the adults more interesting. Christopher McDonald’s Kent Mansley fits that broad approach; the performance supplies comic energy, though we would have welcomed more of a person underneath it. This is a modest reservation, but it matters in a film asking us to judge people by their choices.
Within family science fiction, Bird’s film stands out for taking non-violence seriously enough to make it difficult. The giant’s innocence does not make everyone around him innocent, and the film recognises how quickly being frightened can become permission to be cruel. It also avoids the reassuring idea that adults necessarily know what they are doing. Children are allowed to question authority here, and the jokes help that questioning feel like something a child might actually do.
We would choose this for a family evening, with some care for children who find the threat of violence upsetting. The U certificate is worth knowing, but it should not be mistaken for a promise that nobody will worry. Bird gives the friendship enough weight for danger to feel personal. Allow time afterwards for questions about the adults.
