Rango (2011)
film
Sometimes a film comes along and, in a sudden moment of crisis, you recognise a greater than usual challenge. Gore Verbinski, the director, has unleashed a monster. You search your memories for whatever is left of your understanding of existentialism and other matters philosophical. You pull dusty tomes from shelves so you can research all the references to films. For, yes, this director is a subtle fellow. He has liberally infected this film with allusions to, and quotes from, a hundred-and-one other films. Like Tarantino, there’s a deep game being played. At one level it’s self-indulgent because only the team that put this mosaic together can know all the sources. But, like waking up and suddenly finding it’s the day of a test, now is the chance for all good reviewers to stand-up, be counted, and show off how many of those references they caught. Or, if you’re like me, turn over and go back to sleep.
The band await Rango's death
So, starting off as we mean to go on, Rango can boast a Greek chorus with four owls in a Mariachi band — classical guitar, violin, trumpet and an accordion. They signal the transition between one scene and the next while commenting on the action. On occasion, they interact directly with the “actors”. What makes this convention interesting is that they are both inside and outside the action, and their presence immediately signals a metafictional approach rather than using a linear narrative structure that conveniently starts at the beginning and moves smoothly through to the end.
More importantly, it immediately undermines the spirit and style of the trailer which had suggested this was a Chuck Jones style of action cartoon with hawks and other predators chasing our desperate hero across the landscape. There were a significant number of children at the showing. Not one laughed. A few were scared by the snake. This is not a laugh-a-minute Looney Tune. Essentially, the humour, such as it is, is verbal and conceptual, i.e. instead of visual prat falls, we have the animators playing with the conventions of different film genres, shifting the “rules” of the game to produce amusing effects. How else can you explain the delivery of the final bullet to its target by the Heinlich Manoeuvre? Finally, had it not been featured heavily in the marketing hype, I would not have recognised Johnny Depp’s voice. It could have been anyone.
So, in the opening frames, we meet an intensely lonely Chameleon. He’s being transported along a desert highway in a vivarium. To pass the time, he role-plays with the few physical props he has for company. In what is almost a multi-vehicle crash caused by an armadillo crossing the road, our hero is thrown from the station wagon. More by luck than good judgement, he avoids becoming roadkill and meets the armadillo who is Roadkill and has probably crossed over. So begins the game. The probably-dead armadillo becomes a kind of spirit guide, directing our hero to walk into the desert to find a town named Dirt. With no name, our hero must become someone so he can interact with the townsfolk. Inspired, he shortens the name of the local brand of tequila from Durango and spins a mythic story of his prowess as a gunman. Dirt is experiencing a Chinatown moment with an acute water shortage. Needless to say, the Mayor is looking to buy up all the land to build a new Las Vegas. This is a delightful confusion of fantasy and reality. We are presented with imagery consistent with as many Spaghetti and other Westerns as you can remember, yet we are actually playing out a contemporary real estate scam so the Mayor can have his own golf course and a life of luxury.
Rango finally amounts to a hill of Beans
Well, here comes Verbinski with a sackful of metaphors as our method-acting chameleon magically blends into the role of sheriff and seems to be making something of himself. Except, when the enforcer snake shows up, fantasy and reality collide again, and our hero walks away despondent. Finding himself back at the side of the highway, he crosses over. It’s an act of faith that sees him walking across without caring whether he survives. On the other side, he meets up with the armadillo and, then, in the ultimate tribute to Clint Eastwood, is inspired to live up to the image he has created for himself. Effectively, he’s told he has trapped himself as the hero in a story that must play out to the end. In such a case, there’s no sense in cursing fate. Destiny awaits! Moments later, he finds the high ground and gets a proper view of the “real” human city. With a new understanding of how water may be redirected, he returns to Dirt where he conquers his own fears, wins the respect of the snake, and gets the girl, Beans, played by Isla Fisher.
Jake comes to steal Rango's soul
Here’s a redundant fact for you. Did you know that the music of Wagner appears in 120 Warner Brothers cartoons? So, in the best Apocalypse Now style, the power of Ride of the Valkyries is added to the aerial attack of the burrowing rodents. It’s pleasing Hans Zimmer has abandoned his trademark rhythmic power to produce a rather more subdued score that quotes and parodies an infectious range of musical styles, particularly in the Ennio Morricone mode. On the animation front, the hawk and the snake are wonderful. In the pecking order of local predators, the hawk is supreme until he runs out of luck. The snake can then move more openly and, as voiced by Bill Nighy, is genuinely impressive. All the younger children around me grew very still when he appeared. One or two hid in their mother’s arms.
All of which leads me to a very positive view of this film. Rango is not trying to be cute or nice. There are no sing-along Disney moments. There are no concessions made in dumbing down the plot or its execution. Apart from one of two nice visual touches that will make you smile, this is a thoughtful film. Just as it would not have occurred to cinema audiences to laugh at a Spaghetti Western or some of Hitchcock’s films, this is a beautifully made thriller with surreal moments when we are invited to reconsider our view of the story being told. The scene that best captures this is set in the town’s saloon where the lighting and our first view of the local folk is magnificent. Later, the appearance of the posse with its avian mascot having an arrow through his eye confirms the adult sensibilities of the film. Overall, this is well worth seeing if you enjoy a blend of intelligent wit and metafictional style.
