Yellow Submarine (1968/2018)
Directed by George
Dunning.
Animated by Robert
Balser and Jack Stokes.
United Artists, 87
minutes, PG
★★★★
The song lyric goes," It was 20 years ago today, Sgt.
Pepper taught the land the band play." If only! It's been 50 years since Yellow Submarine was released in
theaters, a watershed celebrated by a restored and enhanced video release of
this animated classic. I'm happy to report that it stands the test of time.
The first thing you discover by watching it now, is that after
10 minutes you will understand everything Terry Gilliam did in his early days
as a cartoonist/collage artist for Monty Python's Flying Circus. It's all
there: trippy, surreal imagery that defies logic and linear time, improbable
mash-ups, weird sounds, and embedded social commentary on historical and
contemporary figures for the cognoscenti.
You might also suspect you are witnessing the genesis of MTV,
and you'd be correct. Mainly, though, you'll be reminded of why the Beatles
mattered. Yes, this is a film that's very 1968, but it's also remarkably fresh.
That's mostly because its animated format is a visual delight that manages to impress
even in our age of digital effects and computer-aided movie design. The
restored film, in fact, is so vivid that it highlights the reality that we
still can't do color as well as was done in the era of handcrafted cells.
Yellow Submarine
also works because it's a fantasy, and these seldom grow stale. Sort of like Beatles
songs. Yellow Submarine features time-tested
wonders such as "Nowhere Man," "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,"
"All You Need is Love," "With a Little Help from My Friends,"
and of course, "Yellow Submarine." If you're young and wonder what all
the fuss was about, watch the sequence in which the song "Eleanor Rigby"
appears. Listen hard to both its lyrics and orchestral arrangement. Not only
were such things rare back when the Beatles released it as single in 1966, it
continues to rank among the top pop songs of all time.
A bit of background: By 1968, the Beatles had already
stopped touring and had grown weary of celebrity fandom. The band appears in
the film only in cameo as the credits roll, and did not lend their voices to
their cartoon stand-ins. You might not even notice this given the outstanding voice
acting of John Clive (John), Geoffrey Hughes (Paul), Peter Batten (George), and
Paul Angelis (Ringo).
The actual story is slight and incidental. You might even
say its spirit was lifted from Dr. Seuss's 1957 story How the Grinch that Stole Christmas. The citizens of Pepperland live
harmoniously until invaded by the Blue Meanies, who look a bit like Smurfs
crossed with orcs and the goons from old Popeye cartoons. It seems that—shades
of Whoville—that the Blue Meanie chief can't stand Pepperland's joyous music.
He unleashes the dreaded Flying Glove as the invading vanguard of the Blue Meanies;
together they transform Pepperland's citizens into mute statues. Hey, it was
1968!
The Lord Mayor (Dick Emery) has just enough time to entrust a
sailor named Old Fred (Lance Perceval) with the task piloting the namesake
yellow submarine to fetch help. And I'm sure you know who that will be.
Ironically, The Beatles look exactly like Pepperland's house act—who else?—Sgt.
Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band.
The film is mostly an excuse for the lads to cut up, make
silly jokes, and segue to musical numbers while they and Fred make their way
through various and precarious seas: Time, Science, Monsters, and Nothing. This
sort of thing seemed weightier in an era in which established authority was
challenged, as did the character of Jeremy Hillary Boob Ph.D., who was a stand
in for obfuscatory intellectualism and paralyzing over thinking. You can be
excused if you just think of Jeremy as a plump, lovable goofball. It's on to
Pepperland to fix things, and all you need is love.
None of this is a spoiler because it's the journey and music
that matter, not the tale. Director George Dunning and animators Robert Balser
and Jack Stokes use the screen as a big palette upon which they splash gay
hues, imaginative figures, and fast-paced montage. You will probably notice
that all action, including walking, is stiffer and less realistic then what we
can create these days. Oddly, this makes the film more fun. We look more
closely at psychedelic effects that pop up on the screen, we laugh at the corny
jokes, and we sing along with the songs because we immerse in the fantasy
rather than clinically admiring high-tech f/x.
Above all, Yellow Submarine
reminds us of a more optimistic period of history. Yes, I know that it's
fashionable to present 1968 as a chaotic time of excess and craziness. But you
know what? That's not all that I remember about it. I also recall that lot of
people really felt they could change the world for the better–—rescue it from
the Blue Meanies if you will. Watching Yellow
Submarine 50 years later made me think how much better things would be today
if we still felt that all you need is love. Does this make me naïve? Probably,
but I think I'd much rather dwell in Pepperland rather than In Donald Trump's
America.
Rob Weir
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