The Incredibles looks like a Jack Kirby comic strip given three dimensional life and scope. It also comes equipped with a fantastic story, great characters and an emotional core with which we could respond and identify. The opening sequence, in which we see Mr. Incredible, Elasti-Girl and Frozone in their prime dashing about town and saving the denizens of whatever city it is that they live in, screams out its influence in 60s-era Marvel Comics, specifically Fantastic Four's goofy whimsy and action-packed familial ethos. And then it borrows a plot twist from Watchmen and creates something totally unique and original from it all. Pixar has, once more, gone beyond its influences to create something special.
Superheroes have been outlawed after Mr. Incredible stopped a man from committing suicide by jumping off of a building. He seeks damages and sues Mr. Incredible, which leads to a total governmental policy change: theyāre outlawed and relocated. Thatās the Watchmen influence. Now our superheroic family, Bob and Helen Parr plus their children, are living in the humdrum suburbs. It all looks a little bit like Burbank, but the suburbs look the same everywhere, no? And that focus on the family is what makes The Incredibles such a markedly different story fromā¦say, Monsterās, Inc., this is Pixar at its most mature in tone. I know that kids loved it, but I know more adults that love this one the most. Halfway through seeing it in theaters I knew that this was going to be my favorite Pixar film, and so far it still is. (Although Monsterās, Inc. and the Toy Story trilogy are often close behind.)
Bob Parr, stuck at a job selling insurance in which he looks comically too large to be in that cubicle, welcomes a chance to be a superhero once again. In comes Mirage, a mysterious woman with a job proposition. And so begins the action/adventure portion of the story. But hereās the genius move by writer-director Brad Bird, he never drops the human element and the story always takes center stage over the visual pyrotechnics. I cared about Dash and Violet just as much as their parents. Itās also a genius move to give a depressed teenager the ability to disappear, something I bet we all wished for during those years, and the hyperactive, precocious little boy the ability to run really fast.
But letās discuss those visual pyrotechnics. I described the film as being a moving Jack Kirby comic strip, and so it is, but thereās also the imprint of Fleischerās Superman animated shorts on the film. Look at those Omnidroids and tell me you donāt see the resemblance to the Superman short āThe Mechanical Monsters,ā in which a mad man used his robotic workers to cause destruction and chaos.
And the sheer scope of the film is a thing of beauty. Not only do we see the suburbs and the city, but a tropical island fortress, take a journey under the sea, visit the ultra-modern mansion/studio of Edna Mode, to name but a few. The Bond franchise has nothing on this film.
Yet gorgeous animation is only half the battle in creating a believable character that we root for in a film like this. They need a voice to bring the personality and character to life, The Incredibles nails this aspect in every role, no matter how major or minor. Craig T. Nelsonās take on Mr. Incredible has the cocksure bravado necessary for the character at the beginning, then transitions into a more somber and wistful tone as he is forced into domesticity and giving up the heroics. Holly Hunter is all fire, sass, maternal love and warmth as Elasti-Girl. Samuel L. Jacksonās Frozone alternates between suave superhero and fraught married man, not to mention that the animators have clearly taken numerous facial tics from Jackson and transposed them into his character. Sarah Vowell and Spencer Fox complete the Incredibles as a family/superhero unit, portraying the chronically shy and self-conscious Violet and hyperkinetic and attention-seeking Dash. Elizabeth PeƱaās sultry voice makes the character of Mirage, so mysterious and given too little development and screen time, a bigger bang. I walked away wanting to know more about Mirage thanks to PeƱaās exactly vocal performance.
Yet itās Brad Bird, the visionary behind the entire film, voicing Edna Mode, a scene-stealer character regardless, that walks away with the vast majority of memorable scenes and quotes. Bird gives her a cracked out energy, like Anna Wintour unleashing her megalomaniac id all over a Marvel Comics issue from the Stan Lee-Jack Kirby days. But donāt count out Jason Lee as the filmās villain Syndrome, a child who idolized Mr. Incredible but grew up jealous at the fact that he was merely adequate and normal instead of powered like his idol. His fantasy and plan to enact a new order in which he is the lone āincredibleā by killing off various retired heroes and building a better killing machine that he controls feel straight from the mind of Alan Moore. And Leeās twisted energy really sells the villain, creating a portrait of twisted ethics and the madness brought on by seeking to be something more than you are.
The Incredibles remains the greatest film version of the Fantastic Four in a roundabout way. And it's a towering achievement in Pixarās catalog in terms of emotional and visual scope. If any film in their catalog seemed primed and open for a sequel, it would be this one. I still await it as Pixar churns out terrible cash-grabs (Cars 2), an emotionally devastating and resonant franchise closer (Toy Story 3) and a humorous but predictable prequel (Monster's University). Will we ever get Incredibles 2? At this point, it seems like it's best to just leave this one alone as a bright, shining, standard-bearer of the studio operating at its highest level.