Hitpig! — This porker's a corker!

Hitpig! (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for mild rude humor and comic peril

Available via: Peacock

By Derrick Bang

Animated films don’t come much wackier.

 

But, then, few folks have Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper cartoonist Berkeley Breathed’s marvelous sense of the absurd.

 

They're on the case: from left, Louie the Lobster, Koala, Letícia dos Anjos, Hitpig,
Polecat and Super Rooster.

At this point, it’s unfair to label him solely that way; Breathed — best known for the strip Bloom County and its breakout star, Opus the Penguin — also has produced delightful children’s picture books and written essays in numerous publications.

The primary characters in this hilarious fantasy — a co-production of Britan’s Aniventure and Canada’s Cinesite animation firms — are “borrowed” from Breathed’s 2008 picture book, Pete & Pickles. Breathed concocted this film’s story, which then was scripted by Dave Rosenbaum and Tyler Werrin. Cinzia Angelini and David Feiss share the director’s chair.

 

The title character is an anthropomorphic swine introduced as a sidekick to Big Bertha (voiced by Lorraine Ashbourne), who has made a career of retrieving lost pets for their owners; she refused to return Hitpig to a bacon farm when he was just a piglet, and instead became his mentor.

 

(A minor quibble: Calling this character — and this film — Hitpig is a bizarre choice. He isn’t an assassin, and there must’ve been better choices for name and title.)

 

Alas, Bertha exits the story unexpectedly, after misjudging an assignment. Hitpig (Jason Sudeikis, at his gravelly best) takes over the “family business,” which comes complete with a tricked-out CatchVan that also boasts a snarky computer system (voiced by Shelby Young).

 

But Hitpig has, of late, lost track of the morality of each assignment. Catching and returning a polecat (RuPaul) to the facility that subjected it to cruel experiments — which left it with nuclear-powered farts (!) — is bad enough; shipping a feisty escaped koala (Hannah Gadsby) back to the zoo, where it’s once again mauled by children, is even worse.

 

Such activity also has made a mortal enemy: Brazilian animal rights activist Letícia dos Anjos (Anitta), who rescues critters as quickly as Hitpig catches them.

 

In his heart of hearts, Hitpig would rather be a chef. He makes a mean omelet, and the manner in which he’s able to slide back and forth along his van’s tall prep counter is merely one of this story’s many clever touches.

I Used to Be Famous: Hits the right notes

I Used to Be Famous (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated TV-14, for occasional profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Peaking early can be a terrible curse.

 

Back in the early uh-ohs, Vince lived large as the front man of an über-famous teenage boy band, Stereo Dream.

 

Vince (Ed Skrein, left) handles the melody on his portable keyboard, while Stevie
(Leo Long) joyfully maintains a steady beat on a "drum set" made of found objects.

Alas, he lacked the talent to survive the transition to adulthood.

Flash-forward to today, which finds Vince (Ed Skrein) scrambling for a living in the streets of Peckham, dragging his music kit behind him on a modified ironing board (a suitably pathetic visual touch). And to rub salt in the wound, former band mate Austin (Eoin Macken) did have the artistic chops for a wildly successful solo career: a constant reminder of the life Vince desperately wishes he could have.

 

Then, one day, Vince’s busking efforts are interrupted — nay, complemented — by a shy young man beating his drumsticks in time to the music. Vince soon learns that this is Stevie (Leo Long), a mildly autistic lad carefully monitored by his protective mother, Amber (Eleanor Matsuura).

 

Vince immediately (rashly?) believes that Stevie might be the “secret sauce” that could turn them into a successful two-man act. Amber, mindful of her son’s inability to handle being the center of attention, has her doubts.

 

Matters aren’t helped by the fact that the disheveled Vince has the diplomatic subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

 

Director/co-writer Eddie Sternberg’s sweet little film, expanded from his 17-minute 2015 short subject of the same title, offers no surprises; the story, co-written with Zak Klein, is fairly predictable (albeit with a poignant third-act twist).

 

That said, the tone and approach are as earnest as all three lead actors; it’s also nice to see a story that depicts autism with respect and compassion. Credit for this, in great part, goes to Long: neurodivergent in real life, and both an accomplished drummer and quietly persuasive actor.

 

The drama emerges from the credibly endearing manner in which both Vince and Stevie struggle to become better versions of themselves.