RANGO review

It's been said (and I believe it) that just about every director wants to make a Western. If that's the case, it wouldn't be a stretch to presume that most every actor also harbors the desire to saddle up and ride out on screen. Johnny Depp has done this at least once, in Jim Jarmusch's mid-1990s existential Western "Dead Man". It was an early indicator of the kind of esoteric quirk upon which he was cultivating his persona. His new animated film "Rango" is also a Western, and it too is full of the kind of Depp-driven quirk that audiences have since come to love. And while it is essentially a more audience-friendly, conventional hero's journey at its core - fused with a healthy dose of clever comedy - "Rango" thrives, even as it mildly challenges the notion of what mainstream animation should be.

At the helm is Gore Verbinski, primarily known for his big budget blockbusters of the last decade, most of which feature Depp as the now-iconic Captain Jack Sparrow. 2003's unlikely, sublime hit "The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" elevated both men from the realm of merely "successful" to the rarified level of "$ucce$$ful". They've since reteamed for two more subpar "Pirates" movies, each sequel as anchored down by shoehorned-in plodding mythology as they are by top-heavy expectations and the sky's-the-limit budget of Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer.

Following these, Verbinski has wisely moved on, unshackling himself from Disney, Bruckheimer and Sparrow, taking the opportunity to cash in on his newfound clout, and prove himself in the irresistible Old West of silver screen yore. Yes, he's brought along Depp (who, with a fourth "Pirates" movie on the way with another director, clearly isn't as ready to bail on that franchise just yet), and has gone as far as to fashion the film around him. "Rango" may appear to be a seemingly transparent attempt to create another Depp icon along the lines of Captain Jack Sparrow, but Verbinski and Depp are such a good fit, such a rarely effective blend of ground-floor creative synergy (both mass-audience-friendly and artistically viable), any urge to cynicism is quickly squelched. Clearly, they are at their best together when they are allowed to cut loose within a classical adventure genre (the Western, the pirate yarn), as opposed to having to seriously build upon what they've already established.

The notion of the existential Western was not new with "Dead Man". Quite the contrary, in fact - most of the best Westerns harbor an existential nature, commenting to some degree (however subconscious) upon man's relationship with nature, with the landscape itself. John Ford stands as the undisputed master of this. "Rango" fuses Ford-ian Americana with Leone-inspired spaghetti Western aesthetic (the music, the wardrobe, etc.). Verbinski and company shamelessly play with everyone's favorite Western tropes, and manage to forge something fresh and new. My only disappointment in this department is over the fact that the iconic actor he is depicted as does not voice the embodiment of the Spirit of the West. Perhaps if the filmmakers had opted for the likeness of a deceased Western star rather a still living one, it wouldn't feel like the production failed at something - namely, nabbing the big fish it so clearly wanted. But never mind that...

The opening minutes of "Rango" would be odd in any film, particularly a heavily marketed animated comedy starring talking animals. When we first meet the lizard that will be Rango, he is more or less a reptile with no name. The camera remains tight enough that we can't be completely sure of the façade environment he inhabits, although the smart money is on it being an aquarium. The character delivers a prolonged soliloquy/inner monologue about his aspirations as an actor as well as his lack of accomplishment and identity. Like I said, it's weird. Good weird, not bad weird, but still weird all the while. But if you think this sequence of contained rumination sounds existential... how about a journey into the always soul-probing desert? That's next.

Although not quite similar to the plight of "The Three Amigos", Rango's adventure also stems from the townsfolk mistaking this actor for a fearless fighter. After wandering into a saloon in the dehydrated Western town of Dirt - where water is its currency, and the bank's dried up - our hero adopts his name and can't help himself in convincing everyone that he's a tough-as-nails varmint. The only true advantage he has is that he knows (thanks to his wandering time earlier in the film) that someone is intentionally dumping lots of water in the middle of the desert. So, upon being named sheriff, he orders everyone to "Ride out!", which they do, accompanied by the film's rousing Hans Zimmer score and not much else in terms of true logic or purpose. It is, however, quite funny, and gives Industrial Light and Magic an even greater chance to show off their state-of-the-art work in this, their first fully animated film.

Eventually, Rango's falsehoods catch up with him, and he is forced to make that age-old decision - walk away forever, or go back and face the danger for real. Of course he opts for the latter, but only after some quality soul-searching and that afore-mentioned one-on-one with the Spirit of the West. The danger he goes back to face is, namely, a slithering and frightening gun-for-hire named Rattlesnake Jake (Bill Nighy) who's been brought in by the major villain of the piece. Jake, with his machine gun rattle tail and huge fangs, is intimidating to say the least to the celebrity-voiced critter population of Dirt. (Celebs including Isla Fisher, Abigail Breslin, Harry Dean Stanton, Ray Winstone, and many others.)

In several ways, "Rango"'s greatest assets are also it's biggest weaknesses. Like the bulging list of famous voice talent in the film (add Ned Beatty, Timothy Olyphant, and Alfred Molina to that list), the over-abundance of clever ideas, sight gags, oddball moments, plot twists and action set pieces proves to be a nearly too-tightly-packed wealth of wonder. Indicative perhaps of too many different passes at the screenplay earlier in the development phase or just the good old-fashioned simple inability to cut out fun but superfluous material, "Rango" is downright jam-crammed with stuff. It's a problem a lot of other movies could only wish for, but in this case, the film runs just a little long at 107 minutes. Thankfully, this is far from a problem, since "Rango" never stops being a righteous romp. We can ask ourselves, is the mariachi owl Greek chorus really necessary in the telling of this story? No, but I for one am glad they made they're there.

In this day and age, we live with a glut of family-friendly computer animated films, many of which commonly feature talking animals. Some of these films are dismissible, but more often than not, they prove worthy, at least a look on some level. A common refrain is that the kids love them while there's just enough sophisticated material to keep grown-ups happy as well. While the truth of this oft-voiced sentiment may or may not be entirely spot-on (I believe that a good film, animated or not, can be freely enjoyed by all, regardless of age and without justification), the fact is that this time it's reversed: With "Rango", Verbinski and company has made a fun and off-kilter Western that grown-ups will love, but also has just enough youth-friendly material to keep kids happy as well. Just as Rango sets out to end the literal drought in the film, "Rango" aims to end a threatened drought of original, vibrant stories in mainstream movie theaters. Both efforts prove valiant, so saddle up, hombre - there's gold in them thar multiplexes!

- Jim Tudor