|
Written and directed by Steve Oedekerk;
animation production by Omation Animation Studios; edited by Billy Weber
and Paul D. Calder; music by John Debney; produced by Mr. Oedekerk and
Paul Marshal; released by Paramount Pictures and Nickelodeon Movies.
88 minutes. Rated PG
for scary situations.
WITH THE VOICES OF: Kevin James (Otis), Courteney Cox (Daisy), Sam
Elliott (Ben), Danny Glover (Miles), Wanda Sykes (Bessy), Andie
MacDowell (Etta) and Jeff Garcia (Pip).
Like so many movies I’ve
seen this summer, Barnyard left me completely baffled. In fact, I
was so befuddled by this film that I really have no idea if I enjoyed it
or not. If have absolutely no clue if it’s good cinema or B-grade summer
popcorn fodder at best. I do know that if I wasn’t obliged to write a
review of the movie I would have walked out about halfway through.
Here’s the deal.
Barnyard tells the story — and feel free to skip the synopsis if it
starts sounding terribly familiar, because it well might — of a young
male coming of age, of the discovery of responsibility, of learning
one’s place in the world, of loss and first love. In this case, this
young male is a cow named Otis. His father, Ben (laconically voiced by
Sam Elliot — what else would we expect?) is “the cow who makes sure the
farm is running on all cylinders.” Of course, the Farmer nominally runs
the barnyard, but what he doesn’t know is that, once he turns his back
or turns out the lights, the normally four-footed beasts rise up on
their hindquarters, gabbing and dancing and pranking with the best of
humans. Ben keeps all the ruckus and mayhem in check, and protects the
Barnyard from the villainous ravages of the Coyotes. He’s disappointed
at Otis’ lack of interest in rules and preference for pranks and
partying.
Tragedy befalls,
naturally, and Otis is forced to become the cow who rules the roost, so
to speak. Along the way, he falls for Daisy (the new cow in the yard)
and is helped out by the usual cast of supporting characters: Pip the
Mouse, Miles the Mule, Etta the Hen, Freddy the Ferret, and Pig the Pig.
I’m tempted to observe
that Andie MacDowell, Courtenay Cox, and Danny Glover are wildly wasted
as Etta, Daisy, and Miles, respectively — but again, I really have no
idea if that’s the case.
In anticipation of
reviewing this film, I fully expected to talk about how Ben personifies
what was lacking from Viggo Mortensen’s Aragorn in The Lord of the
Rings: how those who sacrificially and secretly keep us safe know
that “a strong man stands up for himself; a stronger man stands up for
others.” I even hoped to talk about how Otis learns the same lessons
that the Hobbits did in Peter Jackson’s films — that it’s possible to
stand up for yourself and still show mercy. And to be fair, Barnyard
does a fine job of illustrating those points. The movie even makes some
nice points about adoption and other social concerns.
But if you missed the
distracting incongruity of my synopsis, you can’t fail but note it when
you see the movie: Ben and Otis are cows. Cows. Not bulls. They’re cows.
With udders. Otis stands udder to udder with Ben and calls him “father.”
This makes my head spin.
Is there something wrong with me?
In the world of director
Steve Oedekerk, bulls coexist with male cows and female cows — though,
apparently, there are only male bulls. The only thing that physically
distinguishes Otis from Daisy is, well, nothing. Otis has a male voice.
Daisy has a female voice, and wears a bow on her head. Both have
identical udders. In fact, even though Daisy is pregnant, her physique
is no different from that of Otis, or from that of her equally “female”
chum Bessy. When an infant cow is born, everyone cries, “It’s a boy!” My
mind shrieks in reply, “How on earth can you tell?”
The oddest part is that
this all passes without the slightest remark whatsoever. Is it all some
commentary about socially-programmed gender roles? Not that I can tell.
Voices are most definitely male and female, and there’s no hint of
androgyny in the characterizations. Is Oedekerk trying to kowtow to some
homosexual agenda? That’s doubtful. Daisy and Bessy are totally straight
in their sexual preferences. The “male” cows are classically male in
their behavior, and it’s clear that Barnyard’s “male” cows and “female”
cows know their gender roles and don’t deviate from them.
But this singular
weirdness left me as disoriented as when I sympathized with the wrong
sister in Housekeeping. I kept anticipating some gag about these
udders, that at some point it would turn out to be some bizarre link to
Charles Schultz’ obsession with polled Herefords in Peanuts —
that the udders were some prosthetic joke on the Farmer.
Yet this was not to be.
No, Oedekerk’s Barnyard is a world in which men have breasts and
no one thinks it strange. It’s as if C. S. Lewis’s concerns about “Men
Without Chests” have not only become passé, but that such emasculation
has become the norm and passes entirely without comment.
Wow. When did the world pass me by? Was it while I napped during The
Phantom Menace?
|
