*All reviews contain spoilers*
Disclaimer: This blog is purely recreational and not for profit. Any material, including images and/or video footage, is property of their respective companies, unless stated otherwise. The author claims no ownership of this material. The opinions expressed therein reflect those of the author and are not to be viewed as factual documentation. All screencaps are from Animationscreencaps.com.
Cast –
Jennifer Aniston – Annie Hughes
Harry Connick Jr. – Dean McCoppin
Vin Diesel – The Iron Giant
James Gammon – Foreman Marv Loach and Floyd Turbeaux
Cloris Leachman – Mrs. Tensedge
John Mahoney – General Rogard
Eli Marienthal – Hogarth Hughes
Christopher McDonald – Kent Mansley (he works for the government)
M. Emmet Walsh – Earl Stutz
Additional voices include Jack Angel, Mary Kay Bergman, Michael Bird, Rodger Bumpass, Bill Farmer, Mickie McGowan and Disney legends Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston
Sources of Inspiration – The Iron Man, a British novel by Ted Hughes, 1968 (released in the USA as The Iron Giant)
Release Dates –
July 31st, 1999 at Mann’s Chinese Theater in Los Angeles (premiere)
August 4th, 1999 in New York and California
August 6th, 1999 in USA (general release)
Run-time – 87 minutes
Directors – Brad Bird
Composers – Michael Kamen
Worldwide Gross – $31 million
Accolades – 20 wins and 18 nominations
1999 in History
The world population is estimated to have reached 6 billion by October
The euro is established as the official currency of the EU
Family Guy and Futurama debut on Fox
In New York City, a young Guinean immigrant named Amadou Diallo is shot dead by police officers in a case of mistaken identity, inflaming race relations
US President Bill Clinton is acquitted in his impeachment proceedings, going on to complete his term
The Mandalay Bay hotel and casino opens in Las Vegas, Nevada
Bertrand Piccard (son of ocean explorer Jacques Piccard) and Brian Jones become the first people to circumnavigate the world in a hot air balloon
For the first time, NATO attacks a sovereign country when it launches airstrikes against the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia
Dr. Jack Kevorkian is arrested in Michigan for his part in a case of voluntary euthanasia, a cause he championed throughout his life
In Canada, the Inuit homeland of Nunavut separates from the Northwest Territories to become the nation’s third territory
Two Libyans suspected of involvement in the Lockerbie Disaster of 1988 are handed over to the Scottish authorities, later to be trialled in the Netherlands
During the Kosovo War, the country’s borders are closed by Yugoslav authorities to prevent Kosovo Albanians from leaving
73 Kosovo Albanians are killed in a bombing raid by NATO near Gjakova, after being mistaken for Serbian military personnel (NATO later expressed “deep regret”)
Later in the year, NATO then accidentally bombs the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade, killing three more people
American teenagers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold kill twelve students, one teacher and themselves in the Columbine High School Massacre in Colorado
In April, David Copeland goes on a thirteen-day bombing campaign in London, targeting black, gay and South Asian people; he kills three people and injures over a hundred more
SpongeBob SquarePants debuts on Nickelodeon
During the 1999 Oklahoma tornado outbreak, the highest wind speeds ever recorded on Earth are produced: 301 ± 20 mph
Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace is released, becoming the highest-grossing film of the year
Leonardo Da Vinci’s The Last Supper goes back on display in Milan after 22 years of restoration work
The revolutionary music downloading service Napster is launched
On the King’s Silver Jubilee, Bhutan becomes one of the last countries in the world to begin television broadcasts (only Liechtenstein and a few Pacific Island nations were later)
The Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and NATO sign a peace treaty
The first meeting of the new Scottish Parliament takes place
John F. Kennedy Jr. crashes his plane off Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts, killing him, his wife and his sister-in-law
One of the most-viewed solar eclipses in history occurs over Europe, the first total solar eclipse visible from the UK since 1927
The Second Chechen War begins between Russia and the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, lasting for ten years
East Timor votes for independence from Indonesia in a referendum
The Sega Dreamcast is released in North America and Europe
The ExxonMobil merger is completed, creating one of the most powerful companies in the world
Tori Murden becomes the first woman to cross the Atlantic by rowboat, sailing from the Canary Islands to Guadeloupe
The sovereignty of Macau is transferred from Portugal back to China after centuries as a Portuguese colony
As planned in the Torrijos–Carter Treaties, the USA transfers administration of the Panama Canal over to Panama
On the last day of the year, Vladimir Putin takes over from Boris Yeltsin as the Russian Prime Minister
Births of Karan Brar, Isaac Hempstead Wright, Sabrina Carpenter, Lily-Rose Depp, Cameron Boyce and Daniel Roche
“I just wanna go back, back to 1999, take a ride to my old neighbourhood…”
Hello everyone, and welcome back to the film reviews! This is my first one since Moana back in June and I’ve been looking forward to continuing with them for months now. The Iron Giant is one of my absolute favourites from outside of the Disney canon, so I thought it would be the perfect film to reignite this series; I have lots of other nostalgic favourites coming up too.
This marks the directorial debut of the great Brad Bird, and the story starts with an unfinished film of his called Ray Gunn, which he was working on at Turner Feature Animation in the early nineties. In 1996, Turner merged with Warner Bros. and Ray Gunn wound up being cancelled, but in order to fulfil Bird’s standing contract with Turner, Warner Bros. gave him a selection of around forty other film projects in development to choose an alternative from. Bird selected The Iron Giant, which at that point had been in development since 1994 under director Des McAnuff and was planned as a rock musical based on the works of The Who’s Pete Townshend – yes, this was almost a wildly different film.
Pete Townshend’s involvement with the story began back in the eighties, when he chose to adapt Ted Hughes’s original 1968 book The Iron Man into a concept album. This became The Iron Man: The Musical by Pete Townshend in 1989, featuring the then-three surviving members of The Who, and in 1993 the album was then adapted for the stage at the Young Vic Theatre in London. While this was going on, British film director Richard Bazley just happened to be pitching his own version of The Iron Man to none other than Don Bluth, who he was working with at Bluth’s studio in Ireland. Bazley had a whole story outline and even character designs prepared, but Bluth decided not to take on the project (yeesh, bet he felt silly a few years later). This all links back to director Des McAnuff, who in 1991 had worked with Townshend to adapt the latter’s 1969 rock opera Tommy for Broadway (The Who’s Tommy, which debuted in 1992). When Townshend’s musical version of The Iron Man debuted in 1993, McAnuff saw the potential in it for a film adaptation and brought the project to Warner Bros. Bazley joined the team there and became one of the lead animators, as well as a sequence director – he must have been overjoyed to see his project coming to fruition at last.
Now then. By 1996, Bird was freshly transferred to the Warner Bros. Animation studio with all the promise of The Iron Giant waiting before him. After reading the original Hughes novel, he fell in love with the story and set to work preparing an adaptation that would make its author proud. Unusually for the time, he was given a surprising amount of creative control over the film by the studio (especially for such an inexperienced director), who allowed him to change the setting from Britain to America, add new characters like Dean and Kent and even completely discard Pete Townshend’s musical elements. Townshend apparently did not mind, saying “Well, whatever, I got paid,” and he did remain on the team as executive producer (former director Des McAnuff, meanwhile, joined Allison Abbate as an ordinary producer).
Brad’s pitch for his version was simple: “What if a gun had a soul?” It was compelling enough to get the greenlight from Warner Bros., and he moved the story’s setting to October of 1957, so he could tap into the Cold War paranoia that surrounded the launch of the Soviet satellite Sputnik 1 (this also happened to be the year he was born, but in September). At first, production ran smoothly – but a spanner was about to be thrown into the works. On May 15th, 1998, Warner Bros Animation’s ill-fated Quest for Camelot debuted to generally dreadful reviews, and the studio thus began to lose confidence in animation as a medium (instead of, you know, blaming the weak writing). Bird was now under increasing pressure to complete this film quickly and cheaply; about three-quarters of the Camelot team also worked on The Iron Giant, but they had far less time or money than most animated films of the day. Still, the pay-off for this was that glorious creative freedom that so many other animators would kill for – there was a frat-house kind of atmosphere for much of the production with Bird pushing everybody to do their best work, and he later credited their high enthusiasm for the material for the stunning quality of work they were able to produce.
However, it wouldn’t be Hollywood without at least some executive meddling. Reflecting on the film years later, Bird would recall battles with the higher-ups over unwanted sidekick characters and inappropriate hip-hop soundtracks, but he was able to hold his own and prevent such additions. The studio felt the film wouldn’t be “merchandisable” enough, but as Bird rightfully pointed out, “If they were interested in telling the story, they should let it be what it wants to be.” One other sticking point was the exact label which the film would be released under; Warner Bros. wanted to put it out under their Family Entertainment banner, complete with a Bugs Bunny logo (which was used in the teaser trailer). Bird objected to this for a number of reasons, and eventually executives Bob Daley and Terry Semel agreed – an alternative logo was created which paid homage to the classic ringed one from the Looney Tunes shorts, with Bird further crediting executives like Courtney Vallenti and Lorenzo di Bonaventura for helping him to get the film made the way he wanted it.
After much grappling with release dates and a notoriously underwhelming marketing campaign (which we’ll get into a bit more at the end), The Iron Giant finally crept into theatres in the middle of 1999, where it lost a lot of money even as it garnered review after review loaded with praise. When it reached England that December, I was seven, the perfect age to enjoy this on the big screen, but did I see it? Nope. As a matter of fact, I don’t even remember it coming out; I was too busy watching Toy Story 2 that winter to notice this, and while the former is another excellent film in its own right, my total ignorance of The Iron Giant makes me sad. I know I would have loved it, if I’d only been allowed to know it existed – nice job, Warner Bros. Thankfully, I did eventually see it (probably on Cartoon Network), and since time has been so kind to it, I want to bring it to your attention now and celebrate its expertise.
Characters and Vocal Performances
We have quite a minimalistic cast here, revolving around four central characters. Our lead is a bright-eyed, precocious boy of nine named Hogarth Hughes, who lives with his widowed mother Annie in the fictional town of Rockwell, Maine. Their surname pays tribute to the original novel’s author, Ted Hughes, and Hogarth himself is played with great spirit by Eli Marienthal, whose performance won him an Annie Award for Best Voice Acting in 1999. As is typical with animation, the artists videotaped Marienthal and the other actors during their recording sessions for reference later on, drawing inspiration from them for the characters’ expressions and mannerisms.
Hogarth is defined by his curiosity and imagination; he has already been moved up a grade at school and seems to take a genuine interest in learning new things, although his daydreams sometimes get the best of him and, like most of us, he can often be found doodling in class. Unfortunately, being different makes Hogarth a target for the ridicule of his classmates and, when we first meet him, he doesn’t seem to have many friends. He’s on a different level to most of the other kids his age and probably struggles to connect with them, which could explain his habit of latching onto animals or random adults he meets at the diner his mum works at.
In his very first scene, we learn a lot about his character; he’s compassionate and looks out for the underdogs, but he’s also a little naïve in his quick acceptance of the wild and outlandish, immediately ready to mount an expedition when he hears a local seadog prattling on about an “invader from Mars”. He’s also polite and friendly, happy to start up a conversation with anybody, although there could easily be a downside to this – Annie really should teach him not to talk to strangers!
With his father out of the picture, Hogarth is in need of an older male role model, and he finds one in Dean, a drifter who’s new to the town and joins the boy in his support of the old sailor Earl. Dean is a beatnik, a nonconformist, and unlike others he doesn’t disapprove of Hogarth’s intellect – but he does try to steer the boy in the right direction, pointing out that while it’s good to stick up for people, you shouldn’t necessarily believe everything they say at face value. Later, at the junkyard, the two share an engaging scene in which Hogarth (hyped up on espresso) pours his heart out to Dean, explaining his struggle to fit in at school. Dean gives him a piece of advice which stays with him, and which he later passes on to the Iron Giant: “You are who you choose to be.”
There’s a huge difference in the relationships between Hogarth and Dean and between Hogarth and Kent, something the boy recognises subconsciously. While dreaming one night, Hogarth imagines himself asking Kent “What can I learn from you?”, and Kent’s response is entirely selfish – he has all the power, and he uses it to manipulate the lad by making him feel small and helpless. Dean, by contrast, encourages Hogarth to open up and embrace himself for who he is, ignoring the bullies who try to pull him down. Crucially, while both Dean and Kent are initially terrified of the Giant (I mean, who wouldn’t be?), Dean trusts Hogarth enough to let his guard down and begins to get to know the creature, while Kent remains stubbornly convinced that he knows best because of his position and blindly continues trying to smoke the Giant out so he can set the army on him.
In the Iron Giant, Hogarth finds a kindred spirit. Both are outcasts in the world (one more than the other, admittedly), and Hogarth quickly forges a bond with the rather helpless Giant, taking on the role of mentor and helping him to adjust to the situation. Some of what he teaches him comes from his own mentors – his mother, and Dean, for instance – but he also imparts what wisdom he has at his tender age. It’s both endearing and hilarious to see Hogarth sprawled casually on his front in the barn with a slew of comic books before him, chatting about them to the fascinated Giant looming above him. What’s especially sweet about this is that the Giant internalises it all, no matter how trivial it may seem, even taking on the persona of “Superman” for himself later on as he decides to ignore his programming and save the people of Rockwell (sniff).
Hogarth is a terrific character who leaves most of Disney’s nondescript ciphers in the shade (although to be fair, their more recent child characters – such as Lilo and Hiro – have been much, much better). He’s kind, brave and enthusiastic, always eager to explore and to learn, always ready to take up a cause that seems lost, and in his relationship with the Giant, Hogarth passes on the lessons and values that he’s been taught himself. The words “You are who you choose to be” echo through the film, creating a ripple effect – when Dean tells them to Hogarth, he’s just trying to help the kid feel more comfortable with who he is, but when Hogarth repeats them to the Giant in the climax, he’s literally saving the town (perhaps even the world).
Hogarth’s story evokes a great deal of pathos, but I think it’s the simplicity of it which gives it such a powerful appeal. Companionship is a basic human need which we can all relate to and, when you get right down to it, Hogarth’s story is one of an ordinary, lonely boy longing for a friend – sure, that friend turns out to be a fifty-foot metal robot, but so what? When they exchange that last goodbye, there will not be a dry eye in the house, I guarantee it. (Bless Brad Bird for including that final scene; it would be unbearable to imagine the Giant was truly gone).
The titular role of the Iron Giant was almost left empty, as the team originally planned to give him an entirely synthetic electronic voice to match his body; this was the first time a main character in an animated film was entirely computer generated. However, they decided that they “needed a deep, resonant and expressive voice to start with,” presumably realising that a standard robot voice would rob the film of its emotional sincerity. After watching his performance in the 1995 short film Multi-Facial, they thus hired Vin Diesel, after first considering Peter Cullen, Sean Connery, Frank Welker and even James Earl Jones. As with the cast in general, minimalism was the name of the game with the Giant in particular; excluding groans and other sounds, he only says a total of fifty-three words. Yet in just these fifty-three words, Diesel manages to convey an impressive amount of growth and development in the Giant. From his first speaking scene, where he grapples with words like “rock” and “tree,” to his last, where he repeats something he learned from Hogarth on the day they met (and breaks our hearts in the process), the Giant goes through an important journey.
Until the release of the Signature Edition of the film in 2015, the Giant’s origins were shrouded in mystery. The first we see of him is his dramatic arrival from space, when he rockets down to Earth like a shooting star amidst a howling gale. As Hogarth notices upon first meeting him, this results in a nasty bump to the head which muddles the Giant’s memory, leaving him with no clear purpose – his first acts are simply survival instincts, as he searches for metal to satiate his unusual appetite. It is this which leads him to Hogarth, as he makes the mistake of trying to eat pieces of a power station and nearly fries himself. The boy has tracked him from his home, and although he has the chance to escape, he feels sorry for the suffering Giant and boldly returns to shut off the power, an act which the Giant sees and remembers.
Now that we’ve got the extra scene of the Giant’s dream to tell us what his original purpose was, the power station scene gains a touch more poignance, for the Giant is actually a master weapon designed to annihilate other worlds – it’s a good thing Hogarth acts benevolently towards him, or he might have found himself reduced to a smouldering pile of cinders (imagine what might have happened if Kent had found him first?). Luckily, the Giant’s concussion gives Hogarth an opportunity to start teaching him the ways of the world, awakening something inside the robot – curiosity.
In many ways, the Giant is a mirror of Hogarth (albeit not physically). Both are unsure of their place in the world and feel lost and alone, but they also share a similar desire to learn and make good use of the knowledge they gain later on. Despite his rather nefarious programming, the Giant is more than just a mindless drone; he is an individual, with his own thoughts, feelings and interests, and it is this quality – his “humanity”, you might say – which Hogarth endeavours to grow.
One thing I found especially interesting about the Giant was that, over time, he develops a sort of artistic flair, a trait we see early on with his perfectionism over the broken railway lines. After meeting Dean, the Giant further hones his talents when the junkman gets him helping out with his sculptures, to the incredulity of Hogarth. Several times, the Giant even uses this to his advantage, hiding in plain sight by posing as a sculpture (it’s particularly funny when he does it in front of Kent and the army). In discovering a passion for art, the Giant has tapped into the very essence of humanity itself, and the film doesn’t shy away from acknowledging these deeper questions – “Souls don’t die” – while doing so in a way that younger viewers will be able to understand. Really, it’s no wonder this film left such an impact on the few who were lucky enough to see it.
I love compelling robot characters; seeing a stereotypically cold and lifeless machine blossoming into a fully-developed personality is rewarding in a primal sort of way, as though you’re watching a child growing up. And the Iron Giant certainly has a distinctive personality, one which draws upon the best aspects of the people he befriends. He displays Hogarth’s curiosity and sense of fun, but he also mimics the boy’s acts of compassion (his first public act is to save two boys from falling to their deaths) and learns to appreciate life and grieve for the dead. The Giant also takes on Dean’s artistic flair, and even the General’s sense of justice in the climax (I love his “stern poppa” face when he prevents Kent from driving off). Tellingly, it his first meeting with the irascible and insensitive Kent that sparks off his transformation into a death-bot in the climax; as Dean wisely points out, “He only reacts defensively – if you don’t shoot, he’s harmless.” This applies more generally, too, as the Giant tends to copy what he sees – in the words of Martin Luther King Jr., “Hate begets hate; violence begets violence… We must meet the forces of hate with the power of love.”
Above all, then, the Giant’s story teaches us the Golden Rule – we must treat others how we would like to be treated. Kent and the army learn this all too clearly in the climax, when they have the nerve to try and attack the poor guy while he’s grieving over his friend Hogarth (whom he believes is dead because of them). The combined pain of all this is too much for the Giant and, as the bump in his head finally disappears, he transforms into an unstoppable killing machine, ruthless, impenetrable and hell-bent on avenging his beloved friend. It’s an extension of the milder anger he displayed earlier when he thought Dean was trying to hurt Hogarth: he’s fiercely loyal, and it’s truly a force to behold.
But Hogarth isn’t dead. Escaping the protective arms of his mother and Dean, he runs out to stop the Giant and manages to snap him out of it with the seven words that Dean imparted to him earlier – “You are who you choose to be.”
The Giant recognises Hogarth, and everything the boy taught him comes flooding back. He shuts down his weapons, frightened of himself and what he’s done, but Hogarth reassures him and reinforces his belief in him – “We’ve gotta show them you’re good!” Hogarth’s faith keeps the Giant from going down the destructive path he was designed for, and the robot returns the favour by sacrificing himself for the town in one of the film’s most heart-wrenching scenes.
The story feels even more timely in this age of mass shootings; a robot intended to be a living weapon learns the value of life, eventually putting its own at risk for the sake of others and neutralising a threat caused by a trigger-happy scaremonger. The fact that he survives is especially encouraging; by including that last shot of him smiling at the audience as he reassembles himself, Brad Bird provided us with hope. Hope that love can, against all odds, triumph over hatred and fear.
The Giant isn’t the only new friend Hogarth makes. Dean McCoppin, played with streetwise coolness by Harry Connick Jr., was originally nicknamed “the Fringe” during production, and Bird based him on an old college football coach he’d had (surprising as that sounds). I’m so glad they picked Connick; apparently, Warner Bros. were actually considering Arnold Schwarzenegger for the role at first! He’s cool too, in a different way, but I can’t imagine anybody but Connick playing Dean so perfectly. Bird felt that it made sense to make Dean a member of the Beat Generation, as the “Beatniks” were viewed as outsiders who threatened wholesome family values at the time – the name Beatnik was a portmanteau combining “beat” with “Sputnik,” the name of the first satellite in space, which we see in the film’s opening.
Dean is easy to like and is perhaps the closest thing to an audience surrogate in this cast. He’s laidback, calm and collected, and he seems to look at the world from a distance, as though seeing it in a totally different way. It’s no surprise that Hogarth first meets him after losing a squirrel in his trousers (no, that’s not a euphemism!) – I mean, how else would two such kooky characters find each other?
As with Hogarth and the Giant, Dean’s first scene tells us a lot about him: unlike the other patrons of the diner, he’s not prim and proper but half-asleep and dressed all in black. He’s not concerned with what others think of him and can appear intimidating at first, but like Hogarth and the Giant, there’s more to him than meets the eye. It’s telling that one of his first acts is to step in on behalf of Earl when the other men are making fun of him, as it shows us that he makes a point of treating people with respect. This respect is extended to Hogarth where so many other adults might have just brushed the lad off and his patience seemingly knows no bounds, although he is clearly less naïve than the boy is, telling him that he defended Earl on principle rather than because he actually believed his story. Even in this early scene, he also demonstrates a strong sense of loyalty, trying not to get Hogarth in trouble with Annie despite his discomfort as the squirrel “heads north.”
When Hogarth and Dean next meet, we see more of Dean’s independent personality on display in his bachelor pad. It’s is rumpled and cluttered, but it’s “organised chaos” – much of it is actually artwork, which reveals more of itself the longer you look at it. As with Dean himself, you have to take a moment to stop and really get to know his works before you judge them. (Perhaps this is why the Giant is able to tap into his style so well). While Dean sometimes makes some questionable decisions – such as giving espresso to a nine-year-old – he proves he has a good head on his shoulders with his sound advice and genuine interest in Hogarth’s problems.
There follows an abrupt meeting with the Giant in which he accidentally sparks the robot’s wrath (“DO NOT SQUASH HIM” screams Hogarth), but Dean is open-minded enough to accept him, at least in part, which is more than can be said for Kent later on. Of course, his reactions are realistically guarded – “You don’t even know where HE came from, or what the hell HE is!” – and it takes him a long time to completely trust the Giant, but unlike Kent, he is intelligent enough to recognise the Giant’s innate goodness in the end and warns the army that their attacks are what trigger him, understanding that the Giant only uses violence as a defence.
Some of the film’s biggest laughs come from Dean’s bonding scenes with the Giant. After a rocky start, the two discover a shared love of sculpting, and Hogarth is disgusted to find the Beatnik using the robot for “arts and crafts”. Yet this is an ice-breaker for them and from then on, Dean houses and feeds the Giant at his junkyard, although he’s always careful to keep a watchful eye on Hogarth when the boy is playing with his enormous friend (his caution is justified later, when a toy gun accidentally triggers the Giant’s defence mechanisms).
Ultimately, Dean’s main role in the story is to act as the role model that Hogarth needs. He knows how to bring out the best in the boy – how to stoke his curiosity, channel his imagination and keep him on the right path. He engages with Hogarth as an equal rather than trying to dominate him the way Kent does and, by the end of the film, he’s able to step into the role for real (it seems Annie enjoys his artwork too… some of it, anyway). Thanks to all of this, Dean acts as the perfect foil to our fourth character, the melodramatic and paranoid Kent Mansley.
Oh, boy. Everybody, meet Kent Mansley (he works for the government). This guy’s a riot; he’s a little too complex to simply toss him into the “villain” category, but his quirks and hang-ups make him a challenging obstacle for Hogarth and the others to overcome and he’s a lot of fun to hate. Warner Bros. originally planned to put John Travolta in the role (hm… might’ve worked), but I think they made the right choice going with Christopher McDonald, who really nails Kent’s double-sided persona – calm and authoritative one minute, then screaming hysterically the next.
Kent Mansley is, in the words of Brad Bird, “the approved model of the man you should look up to in that era.” He’s got it all, from the wavy hair and strong chin to the fancy pipe and 1949 Chevy Fleetmaster (when the Giant eats this, he borrows a 1954 Oldsmobile 98 from a local politician). With this character, Bird aimed to personify the kind of Cold War paranoia which infested America in those days, and he succeeds beautifully – as far as Kent’s concerned, he might as well be starring in The Iron Communist, since that’s clearly how he sees the Giant.
When we first meet Kent, he has been summoned to Rockwell on behalf of the government by a call from Earl Stutz, the fisherman who first saw the Giant arrive out at sea. Upon arriving, he hears about the incident at the power station and heads out there to collect evidence, but at first he seems far more interested in showing off his status to the locals, whom he obviously regards as simple hicks from some rural backwater. Following the same rule as the other characters in the film, we learn everything we need to know about him in his first scene – he’s pompous and overbearing, cuts off foreman Marv Loach as the latter is introducing himself, and takes obvious pleasure in dangling his position in front of him (“Frankly, I’m not at liberty to reveal the particulars of the agency I work for… and all that that implies”). He seems unimpressed by the mangled ruins of the electricity pylons, merely commenting that it could be down to an “escaped gorilla” before rolling his eyes… but there’s a surprise in store for him.
Kent returns to his car, muttering unkind remarks about the townsfolk to himself. He gets in, deposits the remains of Hogarth’s BB gun in the seat beside him – then turns to see that the seat is gone, as is an entire half of the car. This is where we get our first glimpse of his true self; underneath that slick, sneering exterior is a jumpy and unstable man, always ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. Now, I know most of us would be similarly startled to find a large bite missing from our car, but in Kent’s case, there’s simply no way to dress it up – he’s a coward.
One of the funniest aspects of Kent’s character is his relationship with his boss, the stern General Rogard. It’s very fitting for a character like this that he has a superior to report to; unlike the independent Dean, Kent isn’t a strong enough person to stand on his own and like all bullies he needs a bigger, stronger friend to back him up. However, in this case, Rogard is far from being Kent’s “friend” and plainly can’t stand the man – Kent’s first attempt to tell him about his suspicions regarding the “giant metal monster” over the phone is predictably hilarious, with the General putting the big-headed bureaucrat firmly in his place and making it clear that he’s not about to just accept such outlandish stories without proof.
Chastised and insulted, Kent thus makes it his mission to uncover the truth about the Giant so that he can have him exterminated, once and for all. After connecting the battered BB gun to Hogarth, he quickly takes his chance and moves into the Hughes’ household, using his false charms to win over the oblivious Annie. From then on, he dogs the boy’s every footstep, hounding him until Hogarth is forced to resort to drastic (and smelly) measures to get him off his tail. Just before this happens, though, we get a key scene where Kent spells out his exact problem with the Giant to Hogarth: “All I know is we didn’t build it, and that’s reason enough to assume the worst and blow it to kingdom come!”
This tells us a lot about Kent’s mentality and fits the scene neatly into the era it’s meant to be taking place in. With his intolerance fuelled by ignorance and fear, Kent exhibits the jittery paranoia of McCarthyism, clearly believing the Giant to be some kind of secret Soviet weapon. Before he can go any further, however, Hogarth’s laxatives kick in and he’s sent scrambling for the bathroom. Gamely, he heads back out into the field alone and continues searching for evidence but is frequently interrupted by more “calls of nature”; Kent’s image is all he has, so Hogarth’s trick was particularly perceptive of him because it forcefully deconstructs that façade of the unflappable, clean-cut, ideal man which Kent works so hard to maintain.
Unfortunately for Hogarth, Kent gets a lucky break when he happens to find the lad’s camera out in the woods. He rushes it back home to develop the film and finds a snap of Hogarth… with the Giant standing clear as day behind his shoulder. With the ball safely back in his court, we then get one of Kent’s most disturbing scenes (even if it does turn out to be a dream); Hogarth comes home and rides his bike into the barn, only to find Kent there in the darkness, waiting for him. Trapping the boy, Kent proceeds with a classic “Perp Sweating” scene in which he grills Hogarth with increasing viciousness about the Giant’s whereabouts, finally threatening to have him taken away from his mother. Thank goodness Hogarth’s confession wasn’t real! Still, this scene shows us Hogarth’s subconscious impression of the guy, and it ain’t pretty (clearly, he’s a better judge of character than his mother).
What Kent actually does with the photograph is more practical, but still disastrous – he immediately calls the General to tell him he has the evidence he wants. The General is true to his word and arranges to get some troops over there first thing in the morning (though not without some scepticism, I’m sure), so all that’s left for Kent to do is make sure Hogarth doesn’t get out of the house. However, Kent once again makes the mistake of underestimating the boy, and as the two glare it out in an hours-long standoff, the agent lets his guard down for a second too long and falls asleep – by the time he comes around, it’s morning, Hogarth has had plenty of time to cover his tracks and Kent is left simmering with fury again.
Naturally, by the time Kent has dragged the whole army out to the junkyard, the Giant has been cleverly dressed up to look like one of Dean’s sculptures, with Dean himself trying to “sell” it to the General. Rogard is not amused and we get another deeply gratifying scene of him handing Kent’s ass to him on a plate, culminating in the agent’s dismissal and watched with glee by Hogarth. It’s not over yet, though.
As the convoy makes its way out of town, Hogarth and Dean race by on their way to talk to the Giant after the misunderstanding with the toy gun. Kent glances back and sees the Giant standing there in broad daylight – finally, the vindication he needs! From this point on, his character steadily devolves into a ball of hyperactive craziness as he gets caught up in his increasingly-personal vendetta against the robot, yet even in the heat of battle he’s able to “flip” into his cooler, sterner mode to briefly fool the General into thinking the Giant is dangerous. Manipulative and arrogant to the last, Kent adamantly refuses to admit defeat even after he’s launched a literal nuclear warhead right on top of the town. Selfish to the last, he tries to hijack a military jeep and escape, but of course by this point the General has had enough and recognises that Kent is far more dangerous than the robot; the last we see of him, he’s being held by Rogard’s men, presumably bound for prison as he deserves.
Kent’s story is a warning against blind ignorance, arrogance and prejudice, contrasting him sharply with the more reasonable Dean and Rogard to make it clear that they are the ones whom we should aspire to be more like. The character is a delicious parody and deconstruction of all the outdated stereotypes about “traditional masculinity” – Kent fits the mould to a tee on the outside, but as a person he’s emotional, irrational and cruel, just an insecure social climber trying to use the Giant to further his own career, reminding us of the age-old adage never to judge a book by its cover.
In the role of Hogarth’s mother, Annie Hughes, the filmmakers wanted to cast someone unexpected, so they chose that darling of nineties television, Jennifer Aniston, then known mainly as Rachel Green from Friends (1994-2004). Aside from their shared occupation as waitresses, these two characters could hardly be more different from one another.
Although still young, Annie is recently widowed – we learn from a photo by Hogarth’s bed that his father was a fighter pilot, so perhaps he was a victim of the Korean War, which ended in 1953. The first-scene rule applies to Annie, too; we first meet her at work in her job as a waitress, where she takes extra shifts and works nights in an effort to provide for her son. Her relationship with her son is a strong one, despite the occasional stresses and strains – as Kent Mansley says, “It’s difficult to raise a boy all alone,” but I’d say she’s doing a smashing job. She and Hogarth are playful and open with one another, but she also makes it clear that he knows she’s in charge and, while she’s patient to an extent, she isn’t afraid to scold him for putting himself in danger.
On the night Hogarth first sees the Giant, she comes home from a long day to find the living room a mess and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, a blackout hits moments later. However, this is clearly all in a day’s work for Annie and she hardly bats an eyelid – that is, until she finds Hogarth’s bed empty and the boy nowhere in sight. Even in this stressful situation, though, Annie keeps a level head and immediately sets out to look for him in the nearby forest, correctly guessing where he might have gone. She is able to contain her anger in her relief at finding him safe, and to her credit, the incident is never brought up again (except briefly to Kent, who takes great interest in the boy’s wild stories about “hundred-foot robots, and whatnot”).
Given his overactive imagination, Hogarth is clearly not an easy child to raise, and Annie is understandably perplexed by his strange habits at times. In another of the film’s great moments of comedy, we witness her confusion as Hogarth struggles to keep her from seeing the Giant’s detached hand, which is wandering joyfully about the house like a lost puppy. Her reaction to Hogarth’s version of “saying grace” at the dinner table basically sums up her life:
The very next day, Annie makes a decision which reminded me of the one Wallace made in The Wrong Trousers, when she invites Kent Mansley to stay with them as a lodger. Given how sharp she usually is and how well she’s able to read Hogarth, it feels rather odd that she can’t see through Kent’s veneer of sophistication, but what can I say – perhaps his deception is more obvious to a child. Throughout Kent’s stay, Annie continues to act as a good host, encouraging her son to take Mr. Mansley out and “show him the sights” while Hogarth moans and grimaces (this she seems to dismiss as just normal childish angst) and even going out of her way to buy him more toilet paper during his tummy troubles. Only when the army turns up in her driveway does she grow suspicious of him, but even after this, she is taken in (like everyone else) by the guise that the Giant is really a “sculpture” of Dean’s. She does note that she prefers some of his other work, though, and in a lingering closeup she seems vaguely aware that something isn’t right – she just can’t put her finger on it.
Of course, once she sees her son waving at her from the Giant’s palm, her intuitions are proved correct and she finally realises the truth. While she never gets to interact with the Giant herself, the fact that he saves her son undoubtedly puts him in her good books. Sadly, the Giant sets out to sacrifice himself to the nuke shortly after this, so she never really gets the chance to know the Giant properly (perhaps she will later; it’s heavily implied that he’ll return to Rockwell someday).
On the whole, I greatly enjoy Annie’s character. She’s a strong and enterprising young mother holding a steady job, maintaining a large house (and possibly even a small farm, given the barn and tractor) and renting out rooms to make a little extra cash, and she shows a thorough understanding of who her son is as a person, even if she doesn’t always understand the wacky things he does. She also drives a cool truck! (It’s a 1950 Chevrolet 3100 pickup, if you’re interested). In many ways, she reminds me of Sarah Hawkins from Treasure Planet, my favourite mother from the Disney canon.
My only criticism of her character is that she feels underused, especially in light of the many deleted scenes of hers that I watched on the DVD. There are several which devote a bit more time to Annie and Hogarth’s relationship and I really would have loved to have seen some of those left in the final film; at least one extra scene featuring her and Dean chatting was animated and added into the Signature Edition of the film in 2015. As the only significant female presence in the cast, it is a pity the writers couldn’t find a way to work her into more of the story, but I understand why they didn’t and I do appreciate her as presented.
In the role of the commanding military officer General Rogard (whose first name is either Kenneth or Shannon depending on which source you consult), Disney fans may recognise the late John Mahoney, who also played Preston B. Whitmore in Atlantis: The Lost Empire two years later. Bird and his team worked hard to ensure complete accuracy when it came to depicting aspects of the military and it shows in the small details; we can tell from Rogard’s three-star rank that he is a lieutenant general specifically, and the gun he uses against the Giant in the climax is a M1911A1 pistol.
Rogard’s primary role is to counteract his subordinate Kent’s manic attempts to cause panic; he deals with the agent in a curt, dismissive and wonderfully sarcastic way which makes each of his scenes thoroughly enjoyable. We first see him comfortable at home with a view of the Capitol Building outside, and he’s not at all pleased to have his western interrupted by Kent. After making it abundantly clear that he will not mobilise his troops because of a “feeling,” he disappears from the story until Kent calls again, this time declaring he has proof the Giant exists.
The climax is where Rogard really gets to shine. When he first turns up, he remains sceptical of his agent, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt until he’s confronted with what looks like a gigantic space-age sculpture – at that point, he wastes no time telling Kent exactly how stupid he’s been and orders him to pack his stuff. You wonder why a practical military man like this ever got involved with an emotional wreck like Mansley, but we mustn’t underestimate the power of Kent’s fifties charms, especially in the Cold War era. It just goes to show that even the most level-headed can be swayed by a nice suit and some fake charm.
Once he sees the Giant for himself, however, Rogard allows himself only the briefest moment of surprise before organising his troops and preparing for the attack. He is controlled and disciplined, everything Kent is not, and in one of the film’s showstopping sequences he bombards the Giant with absolutely everything in his arsenal before apparently bringing him down, at which point he and his soldiers set out to identify its remains. They are in for a rude awakening as they find the Giant still very much alive – and furious. Even when confronted with the robot’s alien technology, the General never loses his head and remains tactical, attempting to take out his laser guns with his pistol while Kent cowers beneath him.
My favourite thing about Rogard’s portrayal here is that despite the film’s strong anti-gun themes, Bird is careful never to demonise the military (I’m looking at you, Avatar). Rogard may be out to destroy the Giant at first, but he’s a reasonable man and is always ready to take advice from wherever it may come – even from a Beatnik like Dean, who in many ways is the antithesis of everything he represents. As the tensions escalate and Kent’s plot starts to unravel, Rogard begins to see the truth in Dean’s words; if you don’t shoot, the Giant is harmless. He prepares to stand down, but at the last moment, an irate Kent snatches his radio and orders the launch of a nuclear missile, which is of course the last straw for Rogard.
While he’s able to detain Kent and prevent him from abandoning them all to their fate, there’s nothing the General can do to stop the missile. I must admit, this plot point always bothered me; I mean, why would the crew of the Nautilus carry out an order given by someone who was clearly not their commanding officer, and yelling hysterically besides? (Seriously, that guy needs to be fired). Either way, Rogard seems to feel responsible for the whole mess as it was he who appointed Kent to this case in the first place, so he prepares to die honourably with his men “like a good soldier.” As it turns out, the Giant’s sacrifice prevents this from happening, yet in a small but terrific character moment, we see that the General is genuinely sad to see this happen and takes no joy in the victory. His final line is a dejected “Let’s go home” to his men, and Mahoney manages to express so much feeling in just those three words.
This is not his final act in the film, however. In another touching gesture of human goodwill, the General proves what a nice guy he is under the battle-hardened exterior by sending Hogarth the sole piece of the Giant that he was able to recover. The fact that he remembered how much the Giant meant to Hogarth and took the trouble to arrange this is very thoughtful, and ensures the audience remember him fondly (not that we wouldn’t have already, after that hilarious phone call with Kent).
Even with such a small cast, no speaking role in this film is wasted. The supporting characters include the likes of Earl Stutz, an eccentric local fisherman who is the first to see the Giant and the one responsible for bringing Kent to Rockwell. Predictably, the local denizens treat him the same way Gaston treats “Crazy Old Maurice” in Beauty and the Beast, but just as in that situation, Earl is far saner than he sounds. Earl’s opening scene is marvellously cinematic and shows him to be a hardy sailor, but we also later learn that he puts a lot of faith in the government – which in this case was not the best idea. (Who knows, given his age, perhaps he’s remembering growing up under Teddy Roosevelt?)
We also have Marv Loach, the foreman in charge of the clean-up at the power station. This is the first character Kent meets and he’s the embodiment of a simple country man, intrigued but slightly bemused by Kent’s status as a city-slicker. In his brief appearance, he comes across as a nice chap, polite and helpful, which serves to further highlight Kent’s rude and arrogant attitude. However, his respect for Kent is quickly called into question when the latter begins gibbering about a monster taking a bite out of his car – judging from his expression, he seems to think Mansley’s gone off the deep end. (I also love the way he, like many other characters, mispronounces Kent’s surname as “Mr. Manly,” a cutting pun because of course, Kent is anything but).
Then there’s Mrs. Karen Tensedge, Hogarth’s schoolteacher and the only other female presence in the film besides Annie (sadly, the two never meet). This is the one side character who I thought actually was underused and judging from the DVD, it seems Brad Bird would agree; the role is played by Cloris Leachman, a fabulous voice actor, and they originally had numerous other scenes featuring her comic ad-libs. Unfortunately, almost all of this was cut for time, leaving the character with only a single line – “Hogarth! Don’t make me come over there!” Even this is funny in a relatable way; of course she only hears Hogarth, when the other boys have been talking for several minutes!
Ollie on top, Frank on bottom
Two other cameos of note come in the form of a pair of train engineers, who join the growing list of witnesses to the Giant’s presence after they literally crash into him. These two are played by none other than animation legends Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, an affectionate nod by Bird to his past at Disney, where he studied under them. He cited them as inspirations for his career and was glad he could pay tribute to them by including them in his film. According to animation writer Earl Kress, they were also “life-long train enthusiasts and {had} extensive scale model railroads in their backyards like Walt Disney used to have.”
The final character of note is a little old farmer named Floyd Turbeaux, who is shown in one scene selling a tractor to Dean as scrap. Dean apologises for not paying more, saying that “It’s got this… large bite out of it.” Turbeaux’s caustic response is simply, “That’s why I’m selling it; it’s got a large bite out of it!” Has me in stitches every time.
Animation
Ah, glorious traditional animation! The Iron Giant was made towards the end of the animation renaissance, a time when hand-drawn work was on the way out in favour of computer animation – most of the best animators back then went to work for either Disney or the newly-established DreamWorks, with Warner Bros. considered the studio for the “underdogs”.
The final assemblage for this film was a motley crew coming from all over the industry, with Disney staple Tony Fucile heading the team alongside relative newcomers Teddy Newton and Lou Romano. The trio acted as visual development artists and character designers, and Fucile was also one of the supervising animators – he had a nephew about Hogarth’s age at the time (and Bird had a son), so they drew inspiration from the boys for their character work. Joining Fucile were fellow supervising animators Richard Bazley and Steve Markowski (who worked on Hogarth and the Giant), Bob Davies, Stephan Franck, Greg Manwaring, Mike Nguyen, Wendy Perdue, Chris Sauve and Dean Wellins. The character work is filled with small details and subtleties which add a whole new layer of comedy and emotion, putting this film’s animation squarely alongside anything Disney was producing at the time, but it’s the blend of hand-drawn and computer work – so commonly botched in the late nineties – which really showcases the artists’ skills.
Brad Bird broke with convention by choosing to give his animators distinct portions of the film to animate in their entirety (the way early Disney features were made), rather than the usual method of assigning specific characters to individual artists. The Iron Giant himself was the exception to this, as he was the sole character to be animated with computer software, a choice made because of the difficulty of animating a metal object “in a fluid-like manner” by hand.
The Giant is the obvious centrepiece of the film’s animation, and the integration of such a massive and prominent computer-generated element in an otherwise mostly hand-drawn film is impressively seamless for the time. To create him, Bird brought in director Joe Johnston as the character designer, with Johnston’s basic outline being refined into the final form later by production designer Mark Whitey and character lead Steve Markowski. Johnston went for childlike, human proportions to make it easier for the viewer to empathise with the Giant, and although he originally agreed to work for no credit, after seeing the finished film he immediately said to Bird, “Please put my name on it!” To prepare for the production, the team worked for six to eight months creating a line-randomizing program which would keep the Giant from looking too “perfect” and help him to better blend in with the hand-drawn work around him. Using software, the team also animated the Giant “on twos” – in other words, only on every other frame, or at twelve frames per second – when he interacts with other characters, further blurring the line between 2D and 3D.
To help keep the project on schedule (and within the budget), Bird relied heavily on detailed animatics at the planning stage. These were essentially cheaper mock-ups of the final animation done with storyboards, which allowed the team to work out plot details, camera angles and other elements before putting scenes into full animation and thus saved lots of expensive last-minute changes. Macromedia Director (now called Adobe Director) was used to make these animatics at first, but Bird later switched the team to Adobe After Effects because it allowed for more complex storyboard manipulation. The software was affectionately dubbed “Macro” by the team early on and it proved an invaluable tool for the filmmakers, helping them with both the animation and the editing and forestalling any disasters in post-production. Bird later spoke about how helpful the software was, saying “We could imagine the pace and the unfolding of our film accurately with a relatively small expenditure of resources.”
Once a sequence was complete, the team would watch it together in a screening room, where Bird would make further notes and suggestions by drawing straight onto the screen with a marker. Bazley, who you’ll remember had a passion for this project from before it even came to Warner Bros., felt that these sessions contributed greatly to the sense of “camaraderie” among the crew, and Bird even stated that his favourite moment of the entire production took place in these editing sessions – the day they reviewed the scene where the Giant learns what a soul is. “People in the room were spontaneously crying. It was pivotal; there was an undeniable feeling that we were really tapping into something,” he said.
The film’s intense schedule led Bird to bringing in students from nearby CalArts to help the core animation team with some of the more minor work, but he was careful to spread the workload evenly among the fresh and experienced talents, explaining the risk that “You overburden your strongest people and underburden the others {if you let your top talent monopolize the best assignments}.” The technical director, Hiroki Itokazu, designed all of the film’s CGI props and vehicles (the only other CGI elements besides the Giant) and they were created with various software, from Alias Systems Corporation’s Maya and PowerAnimator, a modified version of Pixar’s RenderMan and Cambridge Animation’s Animo (which later became part of Toon Boom), to Avid Elastic Reality and even Adobe Photoshop.
That’s about the size of it when it comes to the film’s original animation, but as fans will already know, in 2015, the film’s enduring legacy enabled Bird to finally restore a couple of scenes he’d planned to include in the original cut in what he dubbed the “Signature Edition.” He had lacked the resources to complete them at the time, but with the help of Disney vet Ken Duncan and his boutique studio, Bird was lucky enough to be able to gather together much of his original team and finish the new scenes in time for a theatrical re-release later that year. They are ever so slightly crisper due to the higher quality of tech, but because they’re hand-drawn (and by the same people, no less) they blend remarkably well with the original film. The Giant’s dream sequence is perhaps just a little too slick, but I’m nit-picking – it was great to see Bird getting to realise his vision the way he’d intended, all those years later.
Plot
When it came to adapting the book to film, the first major change that had to be made was regarding the title; with the popularity of Marvel characters in America, calling the film The Iron Man could easily have led to some confusion. For that reason, it became The Iron Giant. Scriptwriter Tim McCanlies was hired, something which bothered Brad Bird at first as he had wanted to write the screenplay himself. However, after reading McCanlies’s then-unproduced screenplay for a project called Secondhand Lions, he quickly changed his mind (that film made it to the screen in 2003, starring Michael Caine, Robert Duvall and Haley Joel Osment – it’s so underrated, I’d recommend it). One major change that McCanlies made to Bird’s work was to do with the ending; originally, Bird ended the story with America and the USSR at loggerheads with one another and the Giant dying for real. McCanlies felt that “You can’t kill E.T. and not bring him back,” so he rewrote the ending to include a scene of the Giant’s survival, which I, at least, think was a smart decision. McCanlies completed the full script in two months on a three-month schedule, and he credited the team’s efficiency for helping to reduce Warner Bros.’ potential for executive meddling.
It will be gratifying for fans of the book to know that when McCanlies sent the completed script to Ted Hughes, the author wrote back a letter of appreciation, delighted with how well they had managed to adapt his work. In it, he said “I want to tell you how much I like what Brad Bird has done. He’s made something all of a piece, with terrific sinister gathering momentum and the ending came to me as a glorious piece of amazement. He’s made a terrific dramatic situation out of the way he’s developed The Iron Giant. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Sadly, he died of a heart attack towards the end of production and never got to see the completed film, but his daughter Frieda loved it (as did Pete Townshend). Considering how many authors (Roald Dahl and P.L. Travers, for instance) famously hated film adaptations of their works, it’s especially pleasing to hear that Hughes approved of this one – Bird must have felt a true sense of accomplishment when he got that letter.
There was a tragic incident in Bird’s personal life which partly inspired the strong anti-gun message of the film. Bird’s elder sister, Susan, was shot and killed by her estranged husband; she and her brother were very close, so poor Bird was understandably devastated. In a 2016 documentary, he pointed out that “When you shoot somebody, you’re not just killing that person. You’re killing a part of all the people that love that person.” The finished film was dedicated to Susan, and in a way, this is ties it in with the history of the novel, which was penned by Hughes as a means of comforting his two children after their mother, Sylvia Plath, committed suicide.
(Note: This isn’t the time or place to get into the whole controversy surrounding Hughes and his alleged abuse of Plath; suffice it to say that she suffered from clinical depression for most of her adult life, so he was probably not the sole cause. Suicide is always a crushing blow to those left behind, and if you yourself are struggling with this, please, please do get help – you are never as alone as you feel. Call 116 123 in the UK, or 800-273-8255 in the USA if you need to speak to someone).
Getting back to the film, the team decided to deliberately avoid going into too much depth with the Giant’s backstory, as they wanted to focus on his relationship with Hogarth. Bird brought in his experience in the world of television to help him with the direction, credited his time on Family Dog (1993) as an essential lesson in team-building, and his time on The Simpsons (1989- ) as an example of working to similarly strict deadlines. Notably, he never tried to hold a monopoly over his team and actively sought the opinions of other crew members on various scenes, often incorporating their suggestions. His focus was on the softer, character-based moments (yes, excellent!) as opposed to the more action-packed scenes, something which he felt was becoming a problem in modern films (definitely agree). Bird felt the story was rather difficult to develop because of its unusual combination of elements like the “paranoid fifties sci-fi movies with the innocence of something like The Yearling {Book 1938; films 1946 and 1994},” but I think we can all agree he did an admirable job.
One of the other key players in the writing besides Bird and McCanlies was storyboard artist Teddy Newton, whose first assignment was the terrific little “Duck and Cover” film-within-a-film which Hogarth watches with his classmates. Bird described what he wanted as a kind of parody of the “hygiene-type movies that everyone saw when the bomb scare was happening,” so Newton decided that a musical number would be the catchiest way of providing this. The sequence became a favourite of the crew and Newton gained the nickname “The X-Factor” from story department head Jeffrey Lynch; thanks to his success, he was given greater artistic freedom on other parts of the film’s script too.
One of the film’s many core themes, aside from the anti-gun message, is existentialism; not something many animated films get into! In the Giant’s growth from mindless drone to caring hero, he and Hogarth grapple with the question of what it means to be a human, or simply to be alive – in Hogarth’s opinion, the Giant’s sentience and ability to feel emotions means he has a soul, and he reassures the Giant that “souls don’t die” in one of the film’s tenderest moments. It reminds me of Spielberg’s 2001 feature A.I.: Artificial Intelligence, a project he took over from the great Stanley Kubrick which has drawn very mixed opinions from critics over the years; personally, I love it, for many of the same reasons I love this film. Both are touching explorations of human emotions and very powerful, although it must be said that Spielberg’s film has a much more bittersweet ending. In addition to this, we have themes like fate vs. free will with the Giant choosing to ignore his programming and save the planet he was sent to destroy. There’s a lot of thought-provoking stuff here which will get any child fascinated and asking questions – be prepared for a good long conversation after this one.
As with any project, there were of course discarded ideas along the way, along with some scenes or plot points which there simply wasn’t room for in the finished film. Among the casualties of the editing for the original theatrical release were two short scenes which were completed for the 2015 Signature Edition; one involving a dream sequence in which the Giant remembers the atrocities committed elsewhere in the universe by he and his kind (which Dean witnesses) and another short one showing Dean and Annie getting to know each other a bit. The latter I enjoyed, as it adds a bit to what is a rather underdeveloped relationship (one of my few criticisms of this film), but I can’t decide how I feel about the dream sequence. On the one hand, it’s great to learn a little more about the Giant’s past and it helps to further flesh him out as a character, but on the other, it removes some of the shock value from the climax where he reveals his battle form to the town. The inclusion of Dean in this scene is the part I have the biggest problem with, as it suggests that he is suspicious of the Giant long before the theatrical cut, where he is largely fine with the robot until the incident with the toy gun at the junkyard. Basically, while its inclusion doesn’t hinder the film at all, it does subtly alter the viewer’s perception of events in it later on, so if you’re a classicist you might prefer to just stick with the original.
There are plenty of other cut scenes which were never completed. One of the longest and most dramatic was an alternate, extended version of the opening scene, which is still set at sea in a storm but now features a whole boat-load of sailors and is bookended by a scene of Hogarth and Annie at home, trying to ride out the tempest. This was cut chiefly because Bird felt there were too many unnecessary characters being introduced, but it’s still very enjoyable, even though I do love the actual opening. I do wish they kept the second half of it, as we never get to see much of Annie and Hogarth’s daily life together and it’s a nice, cosy little scene which establishes their bond.
Several scenes involving the Giant’s antics were also cut for time, including one where Dean and Hogarth are having a philosophical discussion that is interrupted by the Giant nearly setting the forest ablaze with his attempt at a “campfire,” and another where he randomly takes part in a drag race, much to the racer’s surprise (it’s hilarious even in sketch form, but I understand why it went). Then there was a “tired at breakfast” scene involving a subtle battle of wills between Kent and Hogarth, and an original introductory scene for Annie and Hogarth on the night of the storm which, again, I love (it also features Earl, fresh from his encounter with the Giant). We also lost a longer classroom scene which would have made fuller use of the comic talents of Cloris Leachman as Mrs. Tensedge, but I suppose you can’t have everything.
One other significant change was made to one of the film’s most important scenes. Originally, upon meeting the deer out in the forest with Hogarth, the Giant was supposed to accidentally crush it in his enormous hand while trying to pick it up! Of course, while he needed to witness its death in order to open up the discussion with Hogarth about death, the writers realised that having him cause the deer’s death by his own hands would be too traumatising to recover from and so took a leaf out of Bambi’s book by bringing in the hunters and their guns (I suspect the incident with Bird’s sister may have inspired this change, sad as it is to have to acknowledge). The scene as finished encapsulates the very core of Bird’s pitch – guns are not inherently dangerous; it depends whose hands they’re in.
Overall, despite a few trivial plot holes – power stations do not operate off of a single switch, for instance, and the USS Nautilus (SSN-571) was not a ballistic missile submarine, the first of which in the US was the USS George Washington (SSBN-598) in 1959 – the standard of writing in The Iron Giant is exceptionally high. It’s smart, tight and engaging with its presentation of its themes and subject matter, making the simplest lines resonate and stay with you long after you’ve last seen it.
Cinematography
The Iron Giant has many things going for it, and we can certainly add skilful cinematography to that long list. Bird chose Alan Bodner for the art direction, who went on to create more stylish work for shows like Kim Possible (2002-2007) and Phineas and Ferb (2007-2015), and said of the setting, “The Maine setting looks Norman Rockwell idyllic on the outside, but inside everything is just about to boil over; everyone was scared of the bomb, the Russians, Sputnik —even rock and roll. This clenched Ward Cleaver smile masking fear (which is really what the Kent character was all about). It was the perfect environment to drop a 50-foot-tall robot into.”
Unsurprisingly, the art of Norman Rockwell was a major influence on the film’s design (with the name of Hogarth’s town being an homage to him), but other major sources of inspiration were Edward Hopper (the use of light in many scenes is very reminiscent of his works) and Disney favourite N.C. Wyeth. The production designer, Mark Whiting, sought to include colours evocative of the time period while also matching the story’s emotional tone, for instance in Hogarth’s room, which was designed to reflect his “youth and sense of wonder.” The animators aimed for a style reminiscent of fifties illustrations and looked to the works of the greats who came before them for guidance, including Chuck Jones, Hank Ketcham, Al Hirschfeld and Disney films from around that period like One Hundred and One Dalmatians.
In the established tradition of modern animated films, there was also a week-long research trip to the state of Maine, where a small group photographed and videotaped five of its small cities, hoping to get every last detail of the setting correct to make it feel truly authentic. Whiting explained, “We shot store fronts, barns, forests, homes, home interiors, diners, every detail we could, including the bark on trees.” Producer Des McAnuff (who you’ll remember was the original director) had also previously visited Maine himself with his family, where they had seen an exhibit featuring artwork of the Maine coastline by turn-of-the-century painters.
From the world of cinema, The Iron Giant pays affectionate homage in both design and staging to many classic sci-fi B-movies like The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956), as well as grander sci-fi classics like Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927). The three tendrils emanating from the Giant’s battle form come directly from The War of the Worlds (1953), and Hogarth has a poster for the film Forbidden Planet (1956) on his bedroom wall. In a further nod to the time, Bird also chose to produce his film in widescreen – specifically the CinemaScope 2.39:1 ratio – against the judgement of his advisers.
Many of the details shown are remarkably accurate to the time period. When Hogarth is showing the Giant his comic book collection, a key moment in the Giant’s self-development, the particular issue of Action Comics shown is #188 from January of 1954, and we also see The Spirit (dating from 1940 to 1952), MAD Magazine (which started in 1952) and the official Boy Scouts publication Boys’ Life which Hogarth is so disdainful of (dating from 1911). Atomo, though, is entirely fictional, created for symbolism to drive home the point about how the Giant can still act like a hero, despite looking like “the metal menace.” Additionally, the theme music from the Max Fleischer Superman cartoons of the forties plays during this scene, a nice touch which ties the film into the greater legacy of classic animation.
For the final battle, the filmmakers went all-out, referring to real-world combat footage as well as Jane’s Encyclopaedia of Aviation (1980) to ensure total accuracy in their depictions of the military vehicles and equipment of the time. The fighter planes used in the film are period-appropriate FJ-2/-3 Furies, which were the Naval version of their more famous cousins, the F-86 Sabres, designed for carrier-based operations and first flown in 1951. They were also the first jets to be launched by steam catapult, which is depicted in the film. As I mentioned above, the Nautilus was in reality an attack submarine not actually capable of launching nuclear missiles, but it is otherwise accurately depicted and I’d say a little artistic license is acceptable for the sake of drama. This sequence was originally going to run for a lot longer, but it wound up being trimmed because it kept “sprawling” out of control due to the team’s enthusiasm. This was another strong decision as the pacing of the climax is spot on, loaded with adrenaline but allowing calmer moments for the audience to breathe before the next wave.
Among my many favourite scenes is the opening, which shows us the Giant’s arrival on Earth and leads nicely into our introduction to Hogarth. Starting against the serene backdrop of space, we see Sputnik sail quietly past on its orbit and are then given a jolt as the fireball containing the Giant rockets past, heading for the eye of a raging storm on the planet below.
Diving down into the maelstrom, we see Earl Stutz alone on his ramshackle boat, battling in vain with the mountainous waves. Just as he is reporting his position, his eyes widen as he sees the fireball come down somewhere ahead of him, but he’s far too busy to take a proper look. Moments later, he thinks he’s spotted the lighthouse on the coast, but all is not as it seems – in a fantastic shot, the Giant turns its head to reveal that Earl is actually looking at its lamp-like eyes, and the colour drains from the terrified sailor’s face. He then smashes right into the Giant’s torso and is thrown onto the deck, where he can only stare up in horror for a moment before he’s washed overboard.
The Giant vanishes into the darkness and Earl’s boat is lost, but luck is with him as he finds himself tossed ashore just below the real lighthouse. It casts its beam around and, in a neat wipe, segues into the early sun of the next morning, panning over Rockwell harbour and settling on the road from the forest, along which Hogarth comes cycling to his jaunty theme. Everything about this sequence is atmospheric and well-paced, immediately hooking the audience with the mystery of what Earl has seen.
Another, even spookier section comes shortly afterwards, when Hogarth is spending a night alone while his mum works late at the diner. Like many of us, he’s decided this is the perfect time to scare the daylights out of himself with a horror movie, but being a sharp lad, he’s not taking this one too seriously (it’s a hilarious parody of cheap B-movies and I love everything about it). However, things suddenly feel much scarier when he hears strange noises coming from the roof; he’s too engrossed in the movie to pay much attention at first, but when the TV cuts out, he’s forced to climb out and investigate.
After discovering the TV antenna missing and a large chunk missing from the family tractor, Hogarth arms himself with a torch tied to a BB gun and sets out alone into the night, following the trail of destruction into the woods. Inside, he’s unsettled to see huge chunks torn out of the tree bark and colossal trunks strewn across the path, apparently ripped up by some unseen beast. The way Bird uses the stark imagery of these trees in Hogarth’s torchlight is very effective, reminding us (and Hogarth) how small and helpless he is in the face of such power.
The ominous atmosphere builds until Hogarth spots the Giant-shaped hole in the trees and then finds the power station, which he gazes at for a moment in puzzlement. As we look at Hogarth, we see movement over his shoulder – hidden against the darkened treeline, the Giant reveals his presence by turning his head. This is one of the best shots in the film, and it’s a mark of good character design that, even in this moment where we know nothing about him, somehow he doesn’t feel threatening (the music suggests a feeling more akin to curiosity). All of this leads us into the explosive power station sequence, which is brilliant in its own right.
I’d also like to make special mention of a couple of Kent’s scenes, which showcase the two very different sides of his character. One of the main outlets for Christopher McDonald’s comic energy is the phone call scene, where Kent’s first attempt to tell his boss about the “giant metal monster” ends in utter humiliation. What really sells this is the mocking, goofy oven mitt hanging beside Kent, which he turns to the wall as the normally-dry General laughs derisively. A small touch, but it adds a lot.
On the other end of the scale, there’s the sinister interrogation scene. It may only be a dream, but it shows us just how badly Kent is affecting Hogarth psychologically; the start of the scene is especially creepy, with Kent shown as a shadow lurking in the foreground of the barn as Hogarth comes home. Just the thought of Kent waiting there for him with his mother out of the house is enough to make you shiver – if this were a different film, it’s disturbing to imagine what he could have done, all alone out there with no neighbours nearby… The rest of the scene is just as uncomfortable with Kent growing increasingly threatening as Hogarth refuses to crack, culminating in the revelation that it’s all a dream right as Kent claps a chloroformed rag to the struggling Hogarth’s face. Brrr.
I can’t wrap up this section without mentioning this small but highly-memetic scene. This is one of those moments where Dean is at his funniest, and it comes as he’s watching Hogarth and the Giant goofing around at the lake. In true nine-year-old fashion, Hogarth tries to impress his pals with a cannon ball – but then the Giant comes thundering over to try it himself. His effort results in a massive tidal wave which sweeps Dean – still seated in his deckchair – out onto a nearby road. A truck full of pigs eases to a halt behind Dean and the driver leans out to see what’s going on, but Dean, with an “I’m so done” look on his face, doesn’t bother to offer an explanation, so the driver leaves him to it and continues on. “You’re right in the middle of the ro-” “Yeah!?” “… Alright.” It’s just priceless; you’ve gotta love Dean, a rebel to the end. Many of the film’s funniest moments are like this – understated but brilliant.
Soundtrack
I certainly couldn’t finish a review of The Iron Giant without talking about its stellar soundtrack. Brad Bird knew early on that he’d be avoiding the trend of the time of making an animated musical, selecting Michael Kamen to compose a score and supporting it with a selection of roughly-period-appropriate existing songs. Kamen happened to hear the Czech Philharmonic, conducted by Vladimir Ashkenazy, playing Richard Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony (1915) in Prague, and he was able to secure them for the score of this film. The recording was done in a rather unconventional manner compared to most other films, done at the Rudolfinum in Prague and recorded without the conventional uses of synching the music – Kamen said of his method in 1999 that he was able to “play the music as if it were a piece of classical repertoire.”
His work won him an Annie Award for Music in an Animated Feature Production later that year, and it was richly deserved. I adore Kamen’s work here, particularly the way he weaves Hogarth’s light, bouncy theme with the Giant’s grander, more ponderous one at times to both contrast and connect the two characters. In an older article, I chose this as sixth favourite score from an animated film, where I said the following:
“His work here was his first and only for an animated feature, and was inspired by the likes of famed Hitchcock collaborator Bernard Hermann, taking cues from 1950s and 1960s films (this was actually Bird’s original temp score, which scared Kamen). The Czech Philharmonic was eventually used, chosen by Kamen for their “old-fashioned” sound, and you can really feel the Eastern European influences in the finished film. I love the lingering, tremulous strings featured throughout the score here – they sometimes convey a sense of loneliness, reflecting both the Giant’s and Hogarth’s situations. Hogarth’s motif features the bright, wide-eyed percussion and jaunty strings which so perfectly represent youth in film scores. There are also several sections where a military-themed drum beat can be heard in the underscore, fitting in with the strong army presence throughout the film. The final section before the credits features a dainty, music-box version of the film’s main theme, which gradually builds and builds with strings, drums and brass coming in as we fly across an Icelandic glacier to the Giant’s resting place – he’s alive!
The best moment comes towards the finale, when the Giant decides to sacrifice himself to save the townsfolk. The moment before his take-off is punctuated with a desolate string chord, as Hogarth says his last goodbye, then a rich swell of brass comes in to symbolise the Giant’s heroism – it really shakes you.” (That last part is called No Following).
In addition to Kamen’s music, we also have a slew of real-world songs. There are some impressively obscure picks here, too, but as far as I could make out only a couple had actually been released by 1957 so there are a few anachronisms. The soundtrack contains Honeycomb (1957) by Jimmie Rodgers, I Got a Rocket in My Pocket (1958) by Jimmy Lloyd, Comin’ Home Baby (1962) by Mel Tormé, Blue Rumba (Wild Stereo Drums, 1961) by Pepe Dominguin, Genius After Hours (1961) by Ray Charles, Capitolizing (1949) by Babs Gonzales, Cha-Hua-Hua (1958) by Eddie Platt, Blues Walk (1958) by Lou Donaldson, Let’s Do the Cha Cha (1960) by The Magnificents and Searchin’ (1957) by The Coasters. The Signature Edition also introduces elements of Little Bitty Pretty One (1957) by Bobby Day, parts of the Tomorrow, The Moon (1955 and 1959) score by George Bruns, and a snippet from When You Wish Upon a Star (1940) by Cliff Edwards. And of course, we mustn’t forget the one toe-tapping original number, Duck and Cover, which is performed here by Brad Bird, Shannon Gregory and Dean Wellins. (Interestingly, there is an actual social guidance film on nuclear attacks from 1952, which has the same title).
Among the voice actors, there truly are no weak links; this is a top-of-the-line cast. Eli Marienthal does a particularly fine job, especially for such a young actor, showcasing a great deal of versatility and emotional complexity and making Hogarth instantly sympathetic. That coffee monologue is insane! (And it was animated by Bird himself, a fun titbit for you there). Harry Connick Jr. is also a perfect fit as the cool cat Dean, hitting just the right tones and inflections to convey the character’s calm and collected personality. Elsewhere, I also hugely enjoyed Vin Diesel’s minimalistic work on the Giant, where he’s able to get so much raw sensibility out of so few words, and of course Christopher McDonald is a scream as the pompous and cowardly Kent. John Mahoney lends General Rogard impressive gravity while also handling the character’s dry wit with aplomb (RIP sir, you’ll be sorely missed), and Jennifer Aniston is warm and funny in the role of Annie. Even smaller roles like Earl, Floyd Turbeaux and Marv manage to stand out, thanks to the quality of the voice work and some excellent writing.
Final Verdict –
It’s eternally surprising from today’s perspective, but The Iron Giant was actually a bit of a flop during its original theatrical run back in 1999. This can largely be blamed on Quest for Camelot, which shook the studio’s confidence in animation and caused them to push the release date back first to April, then to August. Warner Bros. did have an inkling of the scale of their mistake early on, however, when the film enjoyed wildly successful test screenings – the best for fifteen years, according to Brad Bird – which shocked them into action. Unfortunately, they had left it too late to muster a proper advertising campaign, so the usual tie-ins such as cereal brands and fast food were not an option. They never even officially designed a proper poster for it, with the one teaser trailer eventually becoming the official one. Another Brad, Brad Ball, was assigned to market the film, and he recalled that the studio deliberately avoided committing to a planned Burger King deal, while Brad Bird summed the debacle up as “a mis-marketing campaign of epic proportions at the hands of Warner Bros.; they simply didn’t realise what they had on their hands.”
For the film to be a success, it would need an opening of around $8 million, but with no advertising prepared the studio considered pushing its release date back to give them more time to prepare. Bird soon put them in their place, reminding them that “you guys have had two and a half years to get ready for this” and insisting the film go out on schedule. The absence of marketing was so odd that even press outlets took note of it, with some noting that Warner Bros. had actually spent more on the advertising for a summer blockbuster called Wild Wild West (do you remember that film? I sure don’t). In a last-minute effort, Warner Bros. scheduled a few Sunday sneak preview screenings before The Iron Giant went to theatres, as well as utilising the rising medium of the internet to host a preview on Webcastsneak.
The film opened at Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Los Angeles at the end of July, accompanied by a special ceremony beforehand in which a concrete slab bearing the Giant’s footprint was commemorated. Predictably, the film was a financial bomb, making back less than half of its budget – it reminds me of what Disney did to The Rescuers Down Under in 1990, pulling all marketing due to loss of confidence in the film. Lorenzo di Bonaventura, president of Warner Bros. at the time, explained, “People always say to me, ‘Why don’t you make smarter family movies?’ The lesson is, Every time you do, you get slaughtered.” On top of this, and in another parallel with RDU, The Iron Giant may also have suffered from some competition from the surprise hit by M. Knight Shyamalan, The Sixth Sense, which came out around the same time.
Still, the important thing was not the money, but the reviews, most of which were glowing with the kind of high praise usually reserved for Disney’s top-tier stuff. Kenneth Turan of the Los Angeles Times, Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times, Michael Sragow of The New Yorker, Richard Schickel of Time, Lawrence Van Gelder of The New York Times and Joe Morgenstern of The Wall Street Journal were just some of the many who adored the film, calling it sophisticated, subversive, coherent and beautiful, even comparing it to the works of Hayao Miyazaki. David Hunter of The Hollywood Reporter predicted it would be a sleeper hit and Lael Loewenstein of Variety was a fan, too, while Bruce Fretts of Entertainment Weekly noted that he was not usually a fan of animated films, but that The Iron Giant had even won him over. Peter Stack of the San Francisco Chronicle and Jeff Millar of the Houston Chronicle added further praise for the rich writing, while one of the few remotely critical articles from The Washington Post’s Stephen Hunter accused the film of “smugness” – even while giving it 4 out of 5 stars.
Audiences – at least those few lucky enough to see it – had similarly delighted reactions, praising the direction, animation, characters and themes, as well as the acting from Aniston, Connick Jr., Diesel, McDonald, Mahoney and Marienthal. While the film was not nominated for any Oscars (a travesty, in my opinion), it did garner an impressive nine Annie Awards out of fifteen nominations.
The film came out on both VHS and DVD in November of 1999 (on my seventh birthday, in fact), with a laserdisc following in December. There were actually three VHS versions; pan and scan, pan and scan with an affixed Giant toy on the clamshell case, and a widescreen version. However, all of these early widescreen releases were in the incorrect aspect ratio of 1.85:1. In 2000, Cartoon Network and TNT then bought the rights to the film for three million dollars and famously began showing it in twenty-four-hour marathons around US holidays like the fourth of July and Thanksgiving. (While we don’t celebrate those here in the UK, I suspect I still saw the film for the first time on Cartoon Network, which I was an avid fan of back in the day).
A Special Edition DVD of the film was released in 2004 (the copy I had until recently), and then in 2014 Brad Bird began discussing the possibility of a Blu-ray release with Warner Bros. He worked hard to get a decent release with special features included, encouraging fans to contact the studio via Twitter in support, and following the release of the 2015 Signature Edition in theatres, the Blu-ray finally arrived in 2016.
While Bird has firmly denied any possibility of a sequel (good for you mate), the Giant himself did recently make a cameo in Steven Spielberg’s film Ready Player One, where he apparently replaced Ultraman from the book due to licensing issues. In the film, he fights alongside the RX-78-2 Gundam against Mechagodzilla, but while many were overjoyed to see him on the big screen again, the scene has drawn some criticism from fans who felt that using the character as a weapon goes against the very ethos of the film he originally starred in. Hm, I see their point…
So, that’s The Iron Giant for you. If you’ve not yet had the pleasure of watching this fantastic piece of cinema, I urge you to get it ASAP (perhaps as a Christmas present?). Not just for fans of animation, this tour-de-force will blow any film fan away with its witty script, strong pacing and inventive cinematography and is bound to become a new favourite for any superhero nerds out there. I’ve been watching this at my grandma’s house for years now; it’s become a kind of tradition, and I always think of her when I watch it, adding another layer of poignancy to my viewings. I also got to see the Langjökull glacier (which the Giant crashes into) on my recent trip to Iceland, far away on the horizon, and I felt a little thrill of nostalgia run through me as I pictured him lying out there reassembling himself.
Thank you so much for reading – and once again, I apologise for being late! These reviews are a blast to put together, but they take so much darn time, and working two jobs can soon eat up all of your writing time. My next film review is going to be of another underrated favourite, The Prince of Egypt, which I’ll be posting in time for its twentieth anniversary in December (hopefully), but before that I’ll be posting a few more First Thoughts articles which shouldn’t take so long to put together. I also have another Disney canon post planned, just in case anybody’s been missing it! Hope to see you again next time – stay animated!
My Rating – 5/5
References
I consulted my own books to research for this review, as well as some standard web sources:
The Art of The Iron Giant (2016) by Ramin Zahed
By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1190458 – credit for poster
Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9254357 – credit for Chop Suey
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0046534/mediaindex?page=1&ref_=ttmi_mi_sm – credit for War of the Worlds (1953) screenshot
https://www.movie-censorship.com/report.php?ID=785831 – credit for dream sequence images
https://slate.com/culture/2016/09/everyone-misunderstood-brad-bird-s-the-iron-giant-which-is-not-about-guns-it-s-about-sin.html – An interesting article discussing the themes of the film
http://www.pajiba.com/film_reviews/did-brad-bird-make-iron-giant-because-his-sister-died-of-gun-violence-.php – On the death of Brad Bird’s sister
https://cruxnow.com/life/2015/05/22/the-dangerous-family-films-of-tomorrowland-director-brad-bird/ – Discussing the themes of Bird’s films
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Iron_Giant – Wiki page
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0129167/ – IMDB profile
Feeling Animated 
Truly an underrated masterpiece. I’m always glad to see it getting more of the recognition it deserves.
The only thing I disagree with is your thoughts on the interrogation scene – I always thought that scene actually happened. I’ve never found any evidence to the contrary. It’s when Kent crosses the line from buffoonish-blowhard to a dangerous threat, not unlike Gaston, and I think chalking it up to a dream sequence partially undermines that.
Other than that, you did a great job giving the Giant his due. Looking forward to The Prince of Egypt review! I highly recommend Charles Solomon’s book on the making of. It’s a bit pricey, but worth it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hm… I must admit, I wasn’t sure about how to take the scene. It certainly does add an extra layer of sinister cruelty to Kent’s character if it’s real, but the way the scene ends makes it seem like a dream Hogarth’s having, so I assumed it was meant to represent the subconscious effect he’s had on the boy. Either way, it’s a wonderfully creepy moment!
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m definitely looking forward to the next one, and don’t worry – I’ve already got the Solomon book and it’s amazing (I’ll be reviewing that too down the line).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great review! This is a great animated film!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you! It really is, I wish I could get more people to see it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The first time I ever even heard of this movie was when I saw the trailer for it on the VHS of Richard Rich’s THE KING AND I, back when I was just a little guy; I didn’t actually see it until a couple of years ago.
Overall, it was OK, but somehow, I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. Some of the voice acting seemed unconvincing, and while the animation cuts the mustard, it’s closer to FERNGULLY, THUMBELINA or ANASTASIA than the top-tier work done on PRINCE OF EGYPT. (Call me what you will, but the higher-quality the animation, the better, is what I say.)
Oh, well. No accounting for taste, I guess.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve never met anyone who didn’t care for this before, but to each their own! Glad to hear you’re a fellow fan of Prince of Egypt, I’m looking forward to reviewing it.
LikeLike
Yeah, maybe I just came in with too-high expectations…
LikeLike
I just recently watched the Signature Edition release*, and I have to say, while I merely found it OK the first time around, I’m starting to develop a new appreciation for it. (In a way, I think that my first reading of this review helped influence my decision to give it a second chance.)
*From now on, this is the version I will watch, for the reasons you elaborated on (just as how I stick to the expanded editions of BEAUTY AND THE BEAST and POCAHONTAS, with the fully-animated “Human Again” and “If I Never Knew You”).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad to hear it’s growing on you, I’m always pleased when this film finds new fans!
LikeLike