Robot Dreams (2003)
Whenever I feel that mainstream filmmaking is becoming increasingly bland and I grow despondent with it, along comes an animated film to prove that there is still greatness and art to be found through the medium of cinema. Robot Dreams begins as a tale of loneliness and then quickly becomes a eulogy to friendship and participating in life. The story then turns things on its head as it explores loss and finally concludes with a profoundly beautiful resolution, as it muses upon accepting change and new friends. Robot Dreams succeeds where so many other films fail by being honest, candid and sincere. Hence the emotions expressed by what is essentially a simple story are genuine and palpable. The film’s lack of dialogue is a blessing, with music doing a great deal of the narrative heavy lifting. This allows audiences to focus on the main characters without unnecessary distraction. The animation is uncomplicated but very specific in its style and setting. It utterly suits the tale being told.
Set in an alternate incarnation of 1980s New York City populated with anthropomorphized animals, Dog lives alone in a Manhattan apartment. Tired of being lonely he orders a robot companion after seeing a TV advertisement. Upon arrival, Dog assembles his new friend, Robot and the pair embark on a series of adventures throughout the city. Robot’s innocent excitement and wonder at the world kindles a love of life in Dog and the two become inseparable. However, a trip to the beach at Coney Island goes awry and ends with Robot stranded on the sand. Dog unable to move him on his own, intends to return the next day but the beach is closed and fate then conspires to keep the two friends separated. Dog tries to go about his life, trying to fill the emotional void. Meanwhile, Robot dreams about being reunited with Dog and wonders about his own fate.
Based upon the 2007 comic of the same name by Sara Varon, director Pablo Berger executes his animated parable with aplomb and integrity. As well as being a superb piece of animation, Robot Dreams is also an extremely well observed love letter to the city of New York. Subtle details embellish every frame, from the period-specific graffiti to niche cultural references such as the inclusion of a VHS copy of The Wizard of Oz rented from Kim’s Video store. The choice of songs from Earth, Wind and Fire to Reagan Youth are very evocative of the era and there are clever homages to films of the time, as well as classics also set in New York. Watch carefully for references to A Nightmare on Elm Street and Manhattan. For a film that is in essence, very simple, there is a great deal of emotional and philosophical depth to Robot Dreams. It is never boring, consistently compelling and quite profound throughout its 98 minute running time. You may find yourself crying but in this case, that is a good thing.
