But with that acrid stench of collected radiator dust, you’re missing the beautiful orange loveliness going on outside (probably). You’ve just not twigged, you were too busy jostling on the bus, packing on the train, or furiously cycling (always cycling). But here’s a tip. If you make one knowing nod to the current season, go and see Fantastic Mr. Fox, Wes Anderson’s adaptation of the Roald Dahl children’s book. Key to this aesthetic is the textured, tactile dimension brought to the film by its stop-motion animation, with figures designed by Corpse Bride artisans MacKinnon and Saunders, photographed by Aardman DP Tristan Oliver, and manipulated at London’s Three Mills studios. Unlike Tim Burton’s 2005 piece, however, Fantastic Mr. Fox isn’t polished to perfection. There is a retro, old-fashioned glow to the whole enterprise, giving the film the welcoming air of a big-hearted labour of love. While Anderson has brought much to the table with his adaptation of Fantastic Mr. Fox, there is a still an unmistakable kernel of Dahl at the heart of the story. Fox (voiced by George Clooney) is a suave scoundrel, an irresponsible thrill-seeker, introduced on a leafy hilltop to the strains of Disney theme tune The Ballad Of Davy Crockett. He immediately whisks his beloved Felicity (Meryl Streep) away to a nearby farm, to burgle away its prize inhabitants, with a cheeky, twee sequence set to the Brian Wilson tune Heroes And Villains. However, a well placed trap, and a revelation that Felicity is pregnant, puts plenty in perspective. Mr. Fox develops a career as a society columnist for the local paper (don’t laugh, I once saw a Fox strutting along London’s South Bank, just outside of the Royal Festival Hall, so it’s not entirely without basis), and lives in a community full of suitably middle class, intellectual animal archetypes. Imagination runs wild, as we are treated to the inner workings of animal society, with Badger the attorney (a top form Bill Murray), a real estate Weasel (Anderson himself), and plenty of others. Extra additions include Fox’s quirky son, Ash (Jason Schwartzman) and nephew Kristofferson (Eric Anderson), through whom Anderson and Baumbach explore one of their favourite topics, the uncertainty of idiosyncratic youth, but in a gleefully off-kilter fashion, as the little foxes – the former a cape-wearing geek, the latter an athletic, yoga-practising stoic – suffer through the trials of animal high school. It’s a solidly entertaining, joyful ride, driven along by a masterful score from Alexandre Desplat, and featuring wonderful voicework across the board (which is surprising, considering the mix of seasoned and non-professional actors), with Willem Dafoe’s cameo as a sleazy Rat-bandit being an easy highlight. The only moments where Anderson’s storytelling cap slips involve the film’s quieter moments. When the narrative has to deal with its themes – of family, individuality, responsibility and community – it is slightly clunky, and it is obvious that both writers are far more comfortable with aloof ambiguity, or knotty neuroticism, than picture book wholesomeness. If you’re the kind that would take offence at any changes to the original book (the ‘biggy’ being that the animals are American, and the humans English), try to calm yourself. Such pettiness is counter-intuitive, especially in this case, as part of the charm and wonder of Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox is in its fusion of styles, outlooks and competencies. It is hard to deny, as Mr. Fox excitedly rattles off a list of each animal’s Latin species name, and relates their individual traits, that this film wasn’t coming from a place of real enthusiasm for the material. It is a great addition to what has turned out to be a stellar year for animation. And besides, the clocks go back this weekend, so why not cash in your spare hour with Fantastic Mr. Fox, and enjoy the best 27 minutes currently on offer at the cinema.
title: “Fantastic Mr Fox Review” ShowToc: true date: “2025-08-27” author: “Bertha Terracina”
Purists will hate this for how it steps away from the apparently sacred relic of Dahl’s original text, but let’s be blunt about it: this Fantastic Mr Fox is a charming and a rare experience that follows the spirit, if not the letter, of the original, and is a charming, clever, endlessly quotable adventure that has a distinctive and wonderful style and some of the finest stop motion. Each summer, the cinemas are full of dull, boring, insultingly inane children’s films. Tedious, generic, poorly plotted and pointlessly loud, Day-Glo rubbish tested on humans for irritancy, seemly designed to have no effect on adults apart from making adults want to slowly torture the perpetrators to death. Any of you who have seen Ben 10 twenty hundred million times – in one afternoon – would agree wholeheartedly that the one who eventually stabs the creator to death with a passing poison-dipped swordfish should be given a medal for services to Humanity. With a statue in Reykjavik harbour for posterity. Not only does it contain some of the most charming and beautiful stop motion animation seen, but also a brilliant performance from the understated Bill Murray as the most resigned but explosive badger in the history of the planet, and a quietly poignant overarching narrative that expands the original story. Whilst there are significant deviances from the original text, the film is faithful to the spirit of Dahl, and the additions never feel superfluous or unwanted, unlike the cinematic aberration that was 2004’s appalling Thunderbirds or the risible Scooby Doo movies. (Oh, and for the record, animals don’t have British accents). Welcome then, Fantastic Mr Fox. Shot through with the wonderful, and rare, purity – one might call innocence even – this film is an undisputed classic of the medium of children’s film. The story’s told with an understated, but clear wit and simple maturity, which enchanted an auditorium of children and adults. The characters are fully fleshed out, memorable, and charming. Even the unexpected appearance of a stop motion former Britpop star. Every film director is a victim of their own style. Tthe great filmmakers of this day and age have their own personality on film and it’s easy to spot a Gilliam or a Tarantino or a Wes Anderson moment a mile off. Even when the film is a meticulously constructed, stop motion tale based on a Roald Dahl book, there is no way that this film can be recognised as anything other than the work of Wes Anderson. Talking of which, this film is versed in the language of cinema – with homages to Tarantino, De Palma, and most classic heist movies of the 70s, as well as quite a few war movies with Nazi’s from the 60s, Communist propaganda movies, and a wonderfully sly take on the moronic overdubbing of movies that often happens for TV. Being Wes Anderson must carry with it some pressure; the plot lines that revolve around acceptance, the unusual and distinctively quirky mise-en-scene, and the small revolving cast of names and talent (Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman, the Wilsons), and the odd musical interludes. Were a Wes Anderson film not to contain these moments, it is possible that the studio could sue for unrepresentative material, just as Warners sued Neil Young in 1982 when he veered from his distinctive country rock to bizarre electro with Trans. So even if Fantastic Mr Fox doesn’t necessarily feel like a Wes Anderson film, the fact is that it is, and the stylistic choices that we would not really notice in any other film are now seen through the Anderson Lens. It is possibly the best Wes Anderson film yet, a brilliantly likeable children’s tale, and, above all, a success. It’s an Anderson film first, and what a film it is. Here’s Michael’s take on the film too…
