A few weeks ago, I flew up to Pixar to check out the first thirty-five minutes of WALL·E. I was already sold on the film; now, I’m evangelical about it.
You’ve heard the E.T. comparisons, and they’re more than appropriate; Andrew Stanton evokes a loneliness in the opening quarter of this movie that’s as palpable and heartbreaking as anything in Spielberg’s classic. But WALL·E is so perky and indefatigable in his trash-compacting chores that the tone never dips into mawkishness. Even his love for movie musicals is undercut by the fact that he’s especially enamored of Gene Kelly’s stuffy take on Hello, Dolly! But when the sleek, pristine, some might say “virginal” Eve arrives, WALL·E’s quest for companionship lodges a big ol’ lump in your throat. This has the makings of something extraordinary.
We’re all caught up in Iron Man, Indiana Jones and The Dark Knight right now, but there’s a part of me that thinks the summer will belong to WALL·E. When the Pixar team commits themselves to a labor of love, wonderful things tend to happen.
I’ll have more to say on WALL·E when I get the clearance from Disney. Until then, check out the final theatrical trailer and marvel amongst yourselves (I’m so blindly in love with this movie that the use of Etta James’s tired “At Last” didn’t even bother me). WALL·E opens wide June 27th.