Rango may very well be the weirdest big-budget animated movie marketed towards children in the history of cinema. Gore Verbinski's desert critter, wild west tale is gorgeous to look at. It's loaded with self-referential zingers, baffling non-sequitirs and is bursting with frenetic, exuberant joy. It loosens the shackles of a post-Pixar/post-Blue Sky animation landscape, where family entertainment must either be an emotional roller coaster or mindless slapstick. It is a trailblazer that, if financially successful, could mark a real change in cinema.
Rango begins, unexpectedly enough, with an actor-in-search-of-an-author soliloquy in the form of a goofy chameleon in a glass tank. His world is literally shattered after a bump in traffic, and our innocent lizard searches for meaning in a larger universe. After a run-in with shamanistic guides (“it’s a metaphor,” croaks the wounded armadillo in the middle of the road) and vicious natural elements (the first of many amazing action set pieces), our hero strides toward his heroic destiny in the drought-suffering town of Dirt.
Here in Dirt we meet a collection of mice, moles, voles, bats, turtles, snakes, flightless birds and every other kinda-cute dirty rodent imaginable. Rango is the first feature film produced entirely by Industrial Light & Magic and the decades-long wait is well worth it. The look of Rango is unmatched. Without shying from close-ups, the scales, fur and expressive eyes of each character are, in my opinion, the best we’ve seen in computer-generated animation. If you haven't stared at high-res pics from Rango, do so now.
But it isn’t just the critters. Gore Verbinski hired legendary DP Roger Deakins to act as a “cinematography consultant.” The saloon scenes are “lit” in shadow, the sunsets are stunning, surrealist moments echo Giorgio de Chirico and the desert looks (in the words of my stunned wife) “like a real movie.” Andy’s bedroom from Toy Story is now rendered boring and flat.
Luckily, what the characters have to say in Rango is an equal pleasure. Apart from a nice dose of self-conscious writing (“we are experiencing a paradigm shift!” shouts our hero when second act stakes are raised) Rango is loaded with quality gags. Far be it from me to ruin them, but a few rapid-fire group sequences had adults and kids roaring with laughter at unexpected, clever wordplay.
And strangeness! Why is the wise crow a Native American? 'Cause it is fun to riff on classic movie tropes, I suppose, and Verbinski lets loose with a bunch of 'em. There are direct references to Raising Arizona, Chinatown, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope, Sergio Leone’s The Man With No Name trilogy and (in a particularly meta-twist) Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Johnny Depp voices the titular character of Rango with equal dashes of his Hunter Thompson, Kermit the Frog and something that sounds a lot like the fake Robin Williams from Futurama. It’s a powerhouse and antic performance, and peculiar enough to hog the spotlight from the black hat/white hat story underneath.
Of the many things I love about Rango, the chanciest thing is this desire to be fun and strange above all else. Sure, there are emotional beats, but for the kids and adults who roll their eyes at lame gushy moments shoved down our throats in animated films, the absurdity of Rango is a welcome anodyne.
