Wherever you go, there you are
by Thor Klippert

So I saw this sci-fi movie the other day. It's based on a famous book that practically nobody these days has actually read. It's been adapted before into film, and while there are some distinct similarities it's not supposed to be a remake. It's about a guy who takes a journey to a mysterious planet and meets strange characters who may not even be human at all but teach him a great deal about himself. It takes a while to get started, and the ending (different from that in the book) doesn't make it entirely clear what has been achieved, if anything. But it's very pretty to look at, contains some genuine thrills, and several of the performances are excellent.

I'm talking, of course, about Treasure Planet. (Clooney, I'll get to you later.)

It may very well be impossible to make a bad film out of Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island. The elements are so strong, the characters so memorable, the adventure so emblematic of a young boy's daydream, that it translates beautifully into film after film. From Billy Bones to Ben Gunn, not to mention a certain one-legged sea-cook, we're in good company with no need for embellishment. There have been some changes this time around: Jim Hawkins is a touch older, about 15 with an off-putting haircut and a very odd nose; and we get a slightly unnecessary episode of standard-issue teenage rebellion before Billy Bones arrives at the door of the Admiral Benbow Inn. To make up for lost time, Blind Pew and Black Dog have sadly been excised, the silly Squire and the serious Doctor have been combined into one character (a silly doctor), and Long John Silver is not encountered until we're safely aboard the ship. The no-nonsense Captain has been transformed, quite agreeably, into a sexy female. Oh, and everything's in outer space.

Now it's that last bit I was most worried about -- more interstellar hot-rods and goofy alien sidekicks? This so soon after the less-than-successful Titan A.E., and in the immediate shadow of the excellent Lilo and Stitch. Fortunately, this is a different vision of outer space, one of pure fantasy. There's no technobabbling about phased inducers or flux capacitors or what-have-you; the "space-ships" are gorgeously retro, with sails and masts and marlinspikes. The quality of gravity is determined by the plot; vacuum is not an issue. The important thing is the visuals, and without a waterline to get in the way the animators are free to devise some terrific and unusual views, often beneath the sailing ships.

But the heart of any version of Treasure Island is the relationship between Jim and Silver, the wary innocent and the honorable villain; and here the film holds true. British actor Brian Murray (not to be confused with Bill's half brother, though that would have been intriguing casting) is Silver. His voicing is bang-on; he gets the distinctions between facetious courtesy (to the Captain) and genuine sincerity (with Jim), and conveys Silver's mystification with his own behavior. This film provides the touching, accepted deviation from Stevenson as seen in Disney's live-action version, in which Jim (no real spoiler here, I hope) directly abets Silver's escape.

Emma Thompson, as Captain Amelia, also scores strongly, and the animators do a nice job of incorporating her familiar facial expressions into the character. And then there's Ben Gunn, or B.E.N. as he's presented, in the form of a digitally-animated robot voiced by Martin Short. There's more than a little of Jiminy Glick's bizarre vocal fluctuations here, but they fit nicely. For some reason it's his reading of the line, "Two... big... no-no's!" that sticks with me. Old Ben kind of gets cheated though, at the end, when the true location of the treasure is revealed, and I could have done without the Hollywood Big Boom Climax, technically impressive though it is.

So go. Take the kids, ogle Captain Amelia, have a fun time. Then, by the powers, read the book.

©2002 Thor Klippert
CineScene