The fifth feature from surrealist animator Bill Plympton is possibly his most accomplished and mature, yet somehow also his most slight. The silent film’s lead, Angel, is a “typical asshole,” a malcontent who takes pleasure in watching others suffer his antisocial tendencies. He revels in burning cars, crushing butterflies in his hand and being a lech. However, after Angel grows magic wings overnight, he struggles to stop himself from performing good deeds as he comes to terms with his own sense of morality.
The animation style is distinctly Plympton’s — all minimalist, gritty pencil etchings that choppily flow from one idea to the next, peppered with imaginatively grotesque imagery (this, even more than Plympton’s other features, is not for the faint of heart). While the author’s distinct style and bleak humour is intact, the story doesn’t sustain the feature-length and the conceit of avoiding dialogue grows tiring. Plympton’s interest in exploring human nature and sacrifice sheds his earlier cynicism, but he fails to provide the necessary depth. Added heft is provided by music from Tom Waits and Pink Martini.