Thursday 22 January 2015

The Brave Little Toaster

        As a child, I used to spend a considerable amount of time imagining inanimate objects were alive. Not just those with faces, or ones intended for such imaginary games, like the characters in Toy Story, but boring household items that shouldn't really interest a child. My favourite item to play this game with was cars. there is something in the arrangement of headlights, radiator grill, license plate and hood ornament that just invites personification.

        This is a fact that I am sure has occurred to many people, especially since Pixar's Cars films, but for me, living cars are best exemplified in The Brave Little Toaster.


        As the above clip exemplifies, it wasn't just cars that are personified; any piece of technology or machinery with features that could resemble a face are brought to life. What is ultimately surprising, by the climax of the film, is how much you have invested in the fate of a vacuum cleaner, a toaster and a radio. The possibility that these appliances, which are so banal in everyday life, might be turned to scrap by a malicious magnet is genuinely moving.


        So how does Disney ensure that these characters will capture the hearts and imaginations of audiences? Unlike A Scanner Darkly, which is overly stylised to the point it is distracting, Chris Buck's designs are simple. They are shaped enough like the appropriate appliances to be instantly recognisable, yet are not overly detailed, and each has their own colour scheme, making it easy to pick them out at a distance. Each also has a distinct personality, similar to the Dwarves in Snow White, which helps drive the narrative. The Toaster is the bold, adventurous, yet level headed leader, Kirby the vacuum in the grouch, Blanky is the wet blanket who pines for 'The Master', and The Radio is the source of comic relief in the darker moments.


        Speaking of which, there are quite a few perilous moments in their quest to be reunited with 'The Master', including electrocution, death defying leaps and escaping potential crushing. These are fairly grim subjects for a children's film, and would be fairly gory and traumatic if. depicted with human or animal characters. Yet going through these moments with the characters strengthens the audience's connection with them. Having seen them go through so much, we're willing them to find their owner and for him to keep them safe, although he'll never know how much they went through to find him.

        Spending an hour and a half watching a toaster and other appliances may not sound like the most thrilling experience, particularly if you aren't aware of this film from childhood, yet there are a number of innovative ways in which mechanical objects are brought to life and imbued with personality. This is largely to do with the clever use the animators make of each characters' form. The blanket is the best example of this; being flexible he can crawl like a baby, cling like a limpet or float like a parachute as the narrative requires. Electrical cords are also used for numerous purposes, often as whip or rope like apparatus for escape, but also as an almost burlesque prop in the case of one seductive tape player. You sense that the Buck and his team had fun in the process of making ordinary household objects extraordinary and exciting.

        Perhaps their biggest triumph, however, is in placing these characters in a predicament which everyone, both children and adults. The best narratives succeed because they focus on conflicts and situations that the audience can emotionally identify with. While ostensibly five appliances going on a cross country journey isn't very universal or relatable, the core of the film is actually about loneliness and fear of abandonment. Something which I am sure everyone, regardless of age, can understand and empathise with.


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