Posted: 06/26/2002

Lilo & Stitch

(2002)

by Bryce J. Tache

Aliens and Elvis in One Movie!

Two thirds through Lilo & Stitch, the child sitting in front of me began asking her dad a series of rapid-fire questions: “Is Stitch okay? Why’s he sad? Where’s his family? Why’s he sad? Is he sad? How come? Whydaddywhy?” Normally I’d have hissed at the brat to shut up (or at least take a breath), but she wasn’t a brat — she was just a little girl worried that the blue alien named Stitch had lost his one and only friend.

I was equally worried about poor Stitch, even if I kept my concerns to myself. Disney’s animators deserve credit for making us care so much about a slobbering, six-legged, sharp-fanged koala creature intent on destroying the galaxy. True, Lilo & Stitch might borrow too much from Gremlins and E.T., but while it might lack plot surprises, it contains unusually rich characters.

The Disney folks have at last realized that the formula that worked for The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast has its limitations. This is the Disney’s loosest and most fun handdrawn animation in years. Lilo & Stitch incorporates Japanese anime grandness, SpongeBob Squarepants goofiness and a lovely color palette not seen since Dumbo. Somehow, it works.

Lilo & Stitch starts off on another planet where a fat, many-eyed scientist is sent to prison for creating Experiment 626, a crazy little creature programmed to destroy anything that gets in his way. 626 escapes from his planet and crash lands on Earth — or on a small Hawaiian island, to be exact. But before he can do any harm, he’s adopted by Lilo, a lonely girl who has lived with her older sister since their parents died in a barely mentioned accident. The movie’s running joke is that Lilo believes 626 is a dog. She promptly names him Stitch, for reasons known only to her. Stitch, though displeased with this case of mistaken identities — he has worlds to conquer, after all — has to play the role of Good Dog to avoid the aliens sent to Earth to retrieve him. And so the two become best of friends, doing all the things a girl and her dog do. You know — Elvis impersonations, terrorizing tourists, that kind of thing.

Lilo’s sister, Nani, is doubtful that Stitch is a good influence. She’s also doubtful that Stitch is a dog at all. But she has other worries. Nani is about to lose Lilo to a social worker, and this possible separation lends the movie some emotional weight. The social worker, voiced by Ving Rhames, is improbably named Cobra Bubbles, one of the movie’s many surreal touches.

Lilo and Nani are complex, funny, believable characters. Even when they’re screaming at each other, we never doubt their love, which is more than you can say about most movie siblings. However good they are, this is really Stitch’s movie and he’s a terrific character, equal parts Pikachu and Bart Simpson. Stuck on an island with nothing to destroy, he resorts to building elaborate toy cities just so he can tear them down. He necessarily becomes less destructive as the movie progresses — this is a Disney movie, after all — and it’s when he’s most vulnerable that we stop laughing at him and begin caring for him. The filmmakers never dip into sentimentality, but be prepared for tears. Or at least be prepared for little kids seated around you to grow anxious.

Less self-referential than Aladdin, less politically correct than Pocahontas, Lilo & Stitch might play it safe but it’s just subversive enough to keep us interested, kind of like those sleep-overs at your weird grandma’s you might have had as a kid — familiar but also exciting. The traditional animation is frequently breathtaking and the Kids in the Hall’s Kevin McDonald as an alien in drag is a riot. Hawaiian culture is treated surprisingly respectfully and best of all, unlike most cartoons, the music doesn’t suck. Expect lots of Elvis and some fun traditional Hawaiian.

Lilo & Stitch might not be a classic — it’s not half as clever as Toy Story, for instance — but it’s a great way to spend a summer afternoon, even if you don’t have kids. Let’s hope Disney won’t give up on hand-drawn toons. Lilo & Stitch proves there are still plenty of places to take this art form, and its opening box office proves there are audiences eager to go along for the ride.

Bryce J. Tache  likes movies. He likes writing. He likes writing about movies.

Got a problem? E-mail us at filmmonthly@gmail.com