Years ago, my family traveled to the Galápagos Islands. My daughter and I snorkeled a bunch that week. She reported at the end of one such session: “we saw seventeen giant turtles!” Upon further reflection, she added, “…or maybe the same one seventeen times; I can’t be sure.” During a screening of The Red Turtle, I had a lot of time to think about that trip, and many other things. While I readily acknowledge The Red Turtle is mildly superior to an average film, it was light on plot and had no dialogue. There was plenty of space to let my mind wander.
A man is washed up on a small island. It takes him approximately six seconds to decide he wants off. Not even gonna give it a try, pal? People pay good money to get lost on a tropical island somewhere. The Red Turtle isn’t terribly concerned about the mechanics of his life on the island. We see him find food and water, and once established that he can stay indefinitely, the man wastes no time in collecting bamboo poles to build a raft. Equally as stable as child macaroni art, the raft fails in shallow water with little more than a nudge from beneath. So he tries again. And fails again. By the third fail, we finally get to see his tormentor, a giant red turtle.
Here’s the dealio – If I tell you what happens next, there’s little point in seeing the film. I can’t really talk about characters: there’s only one and he’s unnamed. I can’t really talk about plot: there’s precious little. I can’t talk about actors; there are none. So – guy stranded on small tropical island; if it seems a lot like an animated version of the middle section of Cast Away, it is – with fewer issues and no Wilson.
This film has no words. There’s some shouting and some dreaming, but not a single syllable in need of translation. Ultimately, this makes The Red Turtle a
universal entertainment, a film that can be equally misunderstood by all races, creeds, and cultures.
My review has been pretty negative. Don’t get me wrong; this really was a lovely film and the first thumbs up I’ve seen from Studio Ghibli since Howl’s Moving Castle (2004). But the lovely part was 80 minutes of style for about three minutes of actual plot. You can get the feel of this pic from any random ten minute segment and save yourself the rest if time is not something you spend freely.
It would be hypocritical of me to assume a turtle movie superior when the buggers break out neon masks and nunchucks, especially as I haven’t enjoyed any of the versions where that is true, but good gravy, nothing happens in this film. Nothing, or very, very little for eighty full minutes. The credits roll, you sit back, sigh, and tell yourself that was a beautiful little tale … and it was … but for all that it had to show and tell, The Red Turtle honestly could have been accomplished in eight minutes, ten tops, while losing none of the feel of the picture. I’m not even exaggerating a little. This is an animated short gone out of control.
Stranded at metaphorical junction
I’m finding a testudine compunction
It’s hard to believe
How can I relieve?
My painfully reptile dysfunction
Rated PG, 80 Minutes
D: Michael Dudok de Wit
W: Pascale Ferran & Michael Dudok de Wit
Genre: Animation is for adults only!
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Parents of docile children
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Children suckered into watching an adult cartoon
