The folks at Pixar love to tackle big topics, and they do so with humor, perceptive wit and clever storytelling.
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| Having poofed into a giant red panda at precisely the wrong moment, Mei (the panda) waits anxiously to see how her friends — from left, Abby, Miriam and Priya — will react to this admittedly unusual development. |
Pixar now has embraced an even greater challenge:
Female puberty.
The boldly inspired result — directed by Domee Shi, from an original script by Shi and Julia Cho — is both a remarkably apt metaphor, and an absolutely hilarious depiction of one young girl’s maturity crisis.
(As a superb example of the way Pixar nurtures talent, Shi earned this feature film assignment after winning an Oscar for her 2018 short, Bao.)
The setting is Toronto, in the early 2000s. Thirteen-year-old Meilin “Mei” Lee (voiced by Rosalie Chiang) is an exuberant, mildly dorky, over-achieving force of nature who proudly excels at school. She’d likely be exasperating, except that her potentially patronizing edges are softened by her loyal posse: Miriam (Ava Morse), Priya (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) and Abby (Hyein Park).
Mei also is a model daughter at home, cheerfully helping her mother Ming (Sandra Oh) tend to the ancestral family temple, in Toronto’s Chinatown.
Everything is regimented into a familiar and carefully controlled routine. As Mei giddily tells us, at the top of this film — mildly breaking the fourth wall — “This is gonna be the best year ever, and nothing’s gonna get in my way.”
Wishful thinking.
Like the flip of a switch, Mei suddenly becomes obsessed with the hunky guys in 4*Town, the hottest, coolest band of all time (which, defying its name, has five members). Her three besties share this passion, and their out-of-control enthusiasm turns them into giddily shrieking fangirls.
As a result — in a whimsical nod to Kafka’s Metamorphosis — Mei wakens one morning in the form of a an eight-foot-tall, bright red panda. Unable to control this new body, she becomes inadvertently destructive, messy and smelly. (Sound like any teenagers you know?)
The obvious challenge is to somehow conceal this transformation from her parents and friends, which isn’t entirely impossible; Mei quickly learns that if she can calm down, and control her emotions, she’ll poof back to her normal self. (The dense, bubbly pink poof clouds are an adorable effect.)
But it simply isn’t possible for a 13-year-old girl to control those raging hormones, and — inevitably — Mei poofs in the presence of her besties. Shi holds on this moment, and we wait breathlessly for the girls’ reactions; all becomes well when Abby, overcome by all this adorable red fuzziness, hurls herself into a massive hug.
But even with the subsequent support of her friends, Mei’s ability to control herself remains problematic: often milked for humor, even if our laughter displays a hint of embarrassed familiarity.
On the home front, Mei’s sudden rebellious streak puts her at odds with her refined, immaculately dressed and carefully poised mother. Ming, a creature of rules and discipline, can’t begin to fathom this sudden change in her daughter; in a cleverly subtle touch, Ming’s “cool” emerald green outfits are a specific contrast to Mei’s fire-red panda self.
But Shi and Cho are after much more than angst-generated humor, and their story takes an intriguing turn in the second act. Suffice to say, Mei’s panda counterpart isn’t a random choice from the animal kingdom.
The best Pixar films always blend a captivating premise and plot with the emotional heft emanating from scrupulously constructed characters. Mei’s scholastic prowess notwithstanding, she’s just a little bit weird, just a touch awkward, and quite vulnerable. She can’t control her energy; she constantly draws in a secret sketchbook, carefully hidden from her mother.
Totally endearing.
Ming’s stiff severity is wholly at odds with the hurricane her daughter has become: a disparity further enhanced by their respective appearances. Mei is soft and rounded, while her mother is tall, boxy and even sharp; Ming’s insistence on control also is reflected in Oh’s cultured vocal performance.
Mei’s beleaguered father, Jin (Orion Lee), does his best to bridge this sudden divide between mother and daughter; he’s the family’s quiet, steady, soft-but-stoic rock. He dotes on his simple pleasures: gardening and cooking. His colors are neutral, as befits a peacemaker: beige and khaki.
Mei’s friends are a refreshing novelty, thanks to the absence of any mean-girl behavior. The tall, tomboyish, disheveled Miriam is the group’s cut-up: quick to say the right thing at a moment of crisis, and blessed with instinctive sensitivity. She’s also something of a rebel, which puts her at odds with Mei’s mother, who regards Miriam as a threat.
The artsy Priya is the group’s stoic: cool, solemn and serious. She rarely cracks a smile, and her deadpan delivery adds considerable humor to her one-liners and arch observations. Abby, finally, is a firecracker: a headstrong little warrior who’ll charge recklessly into anything.
Tyler (Tristan Allerick Chen) is the token school jerk: aggressive and annoying, with a tendency to appear when least desired. He isn’t quite a bully, but it wouldn’t take much to get there; his taunting insensitivity can wound deeply.
Ming’s mother and sisters — Grandma (Wai Ching Ho), Auntie Chen (Lori Tan Chinn) and Auntie Ping (Lillian Lim) — join events in the third act, enabling Mei to better understand her mother, after seeing the dynamic between her and Grandma.
Ludwig Göransson’s energetic score is punctuated by 4*Town’s hit song, “Nobody Like U,” written by Billie Eilish and Finneas O’Connell; it’s a catchy pop anthem.
This is a marvelous coming-of-age saga, with a parallel focus on the complexities of mother/daughter relationships: all wrapped up in a wacky but shrewdly insightful package. Growing up is indeed a beast.
Chalk up another hit for Pixar.
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