Andrew Stanton
Wall-E

Pixar and Dreamworks had already accustomed us to masterpieces with films like the historic "Toy Story," "Shrek," "Monsters, Inc.," "Finding Nemo" and, above all, the magnificent "The Incredibles," an epic film with perfectly hit characters and flavors of ancient superhero stories. It is with this latest "Wall-E," directed by Andrew Stanton (the director of "Finding Nemo"), that we can truly speak of a milestone, both from the graphics point of view (truly miraculous but never predominant) and from that of emotions. The uniqueness of "Wall-E" lies precisely in this: for once, poetry surpasses the gags (which, although sparse, are present and are enjoyable), and simplicity triumphs over abundance.

Indeed, the film progresses in the first part at a very slow pace: Wall-E (Waste Allocator Load Lifter - Earth class) does his job, the same for 700 years, returns to his shelter, greets his little insect friend, watches an old tape, and after a very human-like sigh of loneliness, shuts off. This in a land full of waste piled up like skyscrapers, no longer livable by any kind of living being. In other cases, the viewer would be struck by sadness and boredom: instead, they experience a melancholic tenderness, a feeling that nothing so far has managed to give me. Then EVE arrives (Extraterrestrial Vegetative Evaluator), and everything changes: Wall-E brings his new robot friend to his shelter, shows her all his trinkets, and finally, he is no longer alone. Until he shows her a sprout he had found by chance.

In the second part, the pace quickens and the film takes on the characteristics of a conventional animated feature: humanity now resides on the Axiom, a vast spaceship. The humans are amusing balls of lard unable to move independently (a prophetically harsh critique, almost Southparkian) and life is all governed by robots. But Captain B. McCrea, upon learning of the new pseudo-habitable conditions of the Earth, decides to return, helped by the two little robots. The action, which is not a fundamental component of the film, is based on this idea and ultimately becomes quite engaging.

But what makes the film special is its sentimental component, which emerges precisely in the first part. All human emotions, love, joy, loneliness, wonder (especially wonder) are projected onto the robots and are expressed by them in a paradoxically more human and ancient way. Even the antagonist is a robot, and the only human who shows himself to be truly human is the captain, who wakes from the stupor that had brought him, like all the people aboard the Axiom, closer to a robot than a living being, and to feel no wonder (the fantastic scene where he asks the "encyclopedia" robot to show him everything about Earth is great).

The characters are also well characterized: Wall-E is the sentimental one par excellence, EVE has a shy personality but a tender heart (or rather, a motherboard), the little insect is as funny as it is sweet, and the captain is perfect in his role as a representative of human civilization. Even minor characters, like the Axiom cleaning robot, have their purpose.

I regret being so ignorant that I can't talk to you about the numerous references in the film, but I can point out some of the best scenes: the moonlit evening with deactivated EVE, the already mentioned scene of the captain's wonder, and especially the moment of Wall-E's return from the shuttle to the Axiom when he can't meet EVE because of the fire extinguisher (now that’s a gag, as well as one of the most tender scenes I've ever seen). I find it superfluous to talk about the rubbish denunciation, a theme so well handled in the film to convey a strong message without turning the film into a documentary.

Di-re-tti-va.