Old Dog, New Tricks: A Look at The Peanuts Movie / R. W. Watkins
Old Dog, New Tricks:
A Look at The Peanuts Movie
R. W. Watkins
Coming 65 years after the debut of the Peanuts comic strip and marking the fiftieth anniversary of Bill Melendez’s A Charlie Brown Christmas, The Peanuts Movie (Blue Sky Studios, 2015) has been a remarkably unhyped and under-reported affair, at least from my perspective. Directed by Steve Martino and written by Charles Schulz’s son Bryan and grandson Craig with Cornelius Uliano, it is also admirably uncompromising in its adherence to the late cartoonist’s vision. The fact that it is set largely in the winter months – complete with Christmas lights, carolling and plenty of hockey – suggests a favourable lack of Hollywood interference – even for a November release.
All of the major Peanuts characters can be found in this adaptation, including those like Violet and Shermy who disappeared from the strip years and even decades before its end. Interestingly, post 1960s characters such as Rerun van Pelt, Eudora, and Peggy Jean are noticeably absent. This says a lot about which period in the Peanuts saga has endured – or at least which period Martino and the Schulzes wish to see mythologised. Given the Vince Guaraldi Trio segments on the soundtrack and the presence of decade-definitive characters Peppermint Patty, ‘token black kid’ Franklin, and eponymously named Woodstock, it’s obvious that it was the 1960s Peanuts that Blue Sky Studios wanted to see on film – rightfully or wrongfully.
Given my distaste for the increased use of computers in comic-book ‘inking’ and modelling over the past two decades, my dislike of 3-D computer animation should be a foregone conclusion. So it may come as something of a surprise that I actually thought the results of said technology to be appropriate and fitting for a Peanuts film. On a personal level, this has a lot to do with nostalgia. Watching the film, I gradually became aware of a certain comfortable familiarity – a familiarity beyond that which one would (obviously) associate with such time-honoured characters. I was actually becoming a little annoyed with this sense of deja vu, when I suddenly realised that such 3-D animation is highly reminiscent of the clay models and dioramas found in the Peanuts 3-D View-Master reels of my childhood! I was eight years old on a Sunday afternoon again, viewing Charlie Brown’s Summer Fun against the backdrop of my bedroom light. I’m pretty certain I can’t be the only viewer who has made this connexion.
Reel 1: ‘Croquet, Almost Anybody!’ from Charlie Brown’s Summer Fun, 1972
(Scanned by Lance Cardinal)
Oh! By the way – for those diehard traditionalists who prefer the two-dimensional animation of old, I am pleased to point out that Martino and the Schulzes have seen fit to include some excellent black and white examples that serve as a tip of the hat to the original strips like nothing else in the film. Presented in thought balloons and comprising Charlie Brown’s memories and daydreams, said segments resemble four-panel Peanuts dailies that have come to life.
(Traditionalists of a more dubious feather may also be pleased to learn that those eyebrows and few hairs of Charlie Brown’s can still form a convincing subliminal ‘S-e-x’ where the animation team has seen fit!)
Keeping with Melendez tradition, adult characters are heard distortedly but not seen. Some of the children, on the other hand, have been allowed some additional character development. For example, we learn that Marcie is Marcie Carlin and that the ‘little red-haired girl’, Heather, is Heather Wold – albeit non-canonically (the Browns, van Pelts, Violet Gray and Patricia ‘Peppermint Patty’ Reichhardt were the only major child characters ever given surnames by Schulz). We also learn that the van Gogh owned by Snoopy is none other than Starry Night, which means that at least one layer of this film takes place prior to the fall of 1966, for it was in September of that year that Snoopy’s said painting went up in smoke when his doghouse burnt to the ground. I guess Starry Night is more recognisable than the Andrew Wyeth – any Andrew Wyeth – that canonically replaced it.
What Linus is doing in the same classroom as his elder sibling Lucy and the other older children remains a mystery after all these years, however. I know he’s a prophet and theologian, but is he that intelligent? And while we’re on the subject of consistency, what’s Peppermint Patty, Marcie and Franklin doing, attending the same school as baseball opponents ‘Chuck’ and the others? In this decidedly pre-’70s Peanuts universe, they should be attending a different elementary school, on the other side of town.
As for the actual plot, there’s really not much of an over-arching linear story to be found in The Peanuts Movie, but this can be seen as in keeping with A Charlie Brown Christmas, which came off like an exercise in improvisation in 1965, and – like Seinfeld decades later – was basically a ‘show about nothing’. In a nutshell, the elusive Little Red-haired Girl and her (unseen) family move in just across the street from the Browns. Dear ol’ Chuck is immediately smitten, and sets out to reinvent himself as a contender in order to impress the young lady. In the process, he whips up a rather accomplished magic act (a guaranteed winner) for a youth talent contest, but forgoes his performance at the last second in order to help his sister and fellow competitor Sally save face. Similarly, he rehearses his moves for a school dance contest, but concludes his polished routine by slipping on some spilled punch, inadvertently setting off the sprinkler system and thus clearing the building. In a more intellectual vein, he writes an appreciable book report on War and Peace only to have it whisked away by the wind and shredded by aeroplane propellers. Brown also has a macabre moment in the sun when he is celebrated as a boy genius after receiving an unprecedented perfect score on some standardised test (later revealed to be the results of a mix-up, of course). His serendipitous rise and humiliating fall comment deftly on the cult of personality. Along the way, Snoopy experiences the ups and downs of love and war, impressing and defending a French poodle named (what else!) Fifi by sparring with the Red Baron in the sporadic World War I flying ace segments that comprise his writer’s imagination. It appears Martino and the Schulzes were hellbent on covering all ’60s bases – even Snoopy’s hack-novelist alter ego.
Naturally, as Charles Schulz would have intended, life lessons have been learned by all by picture’s end.
On the downside, I certainly could have done without the soundtrack’s syrupy synthetic hip-hop pop – a far cry from the Guaraldi recordings of old – and the sight of Charlie Brown dancing to such stuff – hell, the sight of Charlie Brown dancing, period! The sight of his (fair-weather) ‘disciples’ parading around in his trademark zigzagged jersey during his meteoric rise as ‘boy genius’ was also a bit much, making his first kiss (with redheaded Heather) and motocross win of the television specials now seem grounded in dark reality by comparison.
All faults aside, though, this is easily the best Peanuts motion picture since at least Bill Melendez’s under-appreciated Snoopy Come Home in 1972. On a technical level, it’s undoubtedly the best-looking Peanuts picture since the first one, Melendez’s ultra-hip A Boy Named Charlie Brown in 1969. Seriously. As surprising as it may sound, Charles Schulz’s original vision has not been overwhelmed by the 3-D computer animation or hopelessly compromised by modern trends and sensationalism. I guess Thomas Wolfe wasn’t entirely right after all: one can go home again – sort of. On rare occasions.