Jeff: Why I disagree with your
less than glowing assessment (with the caveat that, yes, we agree that it's a good film and we both liked it, but here is why I disagree with your reasons for not liking it more).
First, visually, what strikes you as the relative "flatness" of the
Incredibles universe, I hail as an overwhelming triumph of visual style and flair over previous Pixar films.
Previously Pixar films have achieved an astonishing level of verisimilitude in portraying real things like Slinky undulations and water lapping against boats, as well as what things
would look like
if they were real, e.g., if toys moved. Buzz Lightyear looked exactly like a real plastic toy, and when they went and created a real-world knockoff, it looked pretty much exactly like the character in the film.
Monsters, Inc. certainly had some wacked-out character design, and
Finding Nemo did a far better job of anthropomorphizing its fish characters than
Shark Tale.
But
The Incredibles is visually far more stylish than its Pixar predecessors. The advance is easiest to see if you look at the human characters in this and previous films. In earlier films, human characters are stylized and animated competently, but without much imagination or verve. The best analogy I can think of is character design in
Animaniacs vs. the classic Looney Tunes, where the stylization aspect favors the earlier exmplars rather than the latter (with the possible exception of Pinky and the Brain). Look as Skippy and Slappy Squirrel, look at Chicken Boo, look at Buttons and Mindy, and then look back at Wile E. Coyote, Daffy Duck, Yosemite Sam, Foghorn Leghorn. It's no contest. The old characters have a dash and verve that's just not there in the later characters (and I say that as one who adores
Animaniacs).
In the same way, the Incredibles are characters with
style. Next to them, Al and Geri (the toy repair artist from "Geri's Game") in
Toy Story 2 and the dentist in
Finding Nemo look pedestrian. In fact, in my book
The Incredibles is the first CG cartoon to rival
The Nightmare Before Christmas for visual flair (though
Monsters, Inc. already rivaled it for creature design).
Another advance: long hair. I was conscious throughout the film of how great Violet's hair especially looked. Until now the high watermark of CG hair has been Sully, whose silky polyester-like coat undulated gracefully with each breath of wind and caught individual melting snowflakes when they were banished to the mountains. Violet's peekaboo hair is a major technical advance.
As for the spare-parts point: I guess it depends on what you mean.
Imaginatively, the
Toy Story movies certainly created a world unlike anything we had ever seen, i.e., a toy culture with a toy's-eye view of the world, toy values and psychology, etc. In terms of what it actually put up on the screen, technically it was certainly new, but in another sense most of it was stuff we all grew up with, so it wasn't a "new world' in that sense.
On the flip side,
Finding Nemo was a visual triumph, an astonishingly beautiful reimagining of a world you can see in documentaries like
Atlantis, but imaginatively and emotionally it didn't really offer a particularly inspired take of a fish psychology or a a fishes'-eye view of life in the ocean. It was just human relationships and issues transposed onto anthropomorphized fish characters.
The world of
Monsters, Inc. was distinguished, once again, by its outlandish creature designs, and the conceit of the interdimensional doors and the monorail conveyor system offers some inspired visual lunacy, but the picture of monster culture and psychology was merely clever rather than inspired.
In a way,
Monsters, Inc. was the biggest missed opportunity, since the chance to explain the world of monsters and what makes them tick was an imaginative opportunity comparable to the challenge of explaining the world of toys and how they view the world, and somehow the world of the toys seems more persuasive and satisfying than the world of monsters. To put it another way, when I watch
Toy Story, something in me feels that this really is what toys would be like if they were alive, whereas when I watch
Monsters, Inc. I don't feel that this really is what monsters would be like if they were real.
And
A Bug's Life, alas, was neither especially visually interesting nor a particularly insightful or creative take on insect psychology or culture.
Recapturing the mythic insight of
Toy Story seems to be a daunting proposal, and creating a new world every time you set out to make a movie seems, in an ironic way, a rather limiting and constraining way to work.
In many ways, I find the cross of super-hero myth and family drama in
The Incredibles a more satisfying imaginative world than any other non-
Toy Story imagined world in the Pixar portfolio, certainly including
Finding Nemo, the appeal of which is in emotion rather than its fishy point of view, and even
Monsters, Inc. The Incredibles also has a better story than
Monsters, Inc., which is really a rather straightforward chase-caper type story.
On the subject of emotion:
The Incredibles may not have had
more emotion than
Finding Nemo or the
Toy Story flicks. But I think it's emotionally at least as interesting and complex as any of them, and maybe more so than any except
Toy Story 2. I find the conflicts of these characters more intriguing than Marlin needing to learn to let Nemo grow up and be independent, for example. Thematically, I think this may be the richest Pixar film to date, as set forth in my
post above.