Starring the voices of Ben Burtt, Elissa Knight. Written by Andrew
Stanton, Jim Capobianco. Directed by Andrew Stanton. (PG) 103 min.
Opens June 27.
The first 40 minutes of WALL-E play like Manufactured Landscapes as directed by Chuck Jones, as the titular drone putters his way through a dilapidated, deserted metropolis circa 2775. It seems that human beings have long since fled for the stars, leaving only garbage in their wake: our E.T.-eyed hero packs the refuse into skyscraper-sized units, salvaging the odd trinket (a spork here, a VHS copy of Hello Dolly! there) for his personal treasure trove.
As a one-robot show, this section is perfectly charming; as a vision (pace Alan Weisman) of The World Without Us, it’s quietly devastating. And it’s quite literally quiet: there’s almost no dialogue. Yet this marvelously balanced film doesn’t belabor its more pensive aspects (the way that George Miller’s Happy Feet did). The arrival of a sleek, feminine white probe by the acronym of EVE gives lonely WALL-E a friend (or rather a crush) and the plot some momentum. She’s there to search for signs of life, and after locating one pathetic little sprout, (shades of Silent Running) plunks it into her cast-iron belly (shades of Children of Men) and returns to her masters.
WALL-E goes with her, and the film shifts into a somewhat more antic — though no less assured — gear. The pair navigate their way through a series of slapstick episodes in the massive space station/resort where humanity has lapsed into a communal, luxury-addled stupor. The idea of adults reduced to overgrown babies, barefoot and pudgy in brightly colored jumpers, has some sting, but the consumer-culture critique is ultimately pretty gentle. Pixar, after all, is also in the mass-pacification business. But once again, they do it so remarkably well: with visual and narrative economy despite their boundless resources; with maturity despite their all-ages mandate; with palpable humanity despite a cast mostly comprised of computer-generated automotons.