3.5 Moving-character-driven-dramatic-comedies out of 4
A rare sequel is a necessary film. It is a film that strives for the heights of its predecessor, while earning its title as a successor. A rare sequel is a film that refuses to squander the good will generated by its original, and not only creates a strong story, but adds to the franchise’s universe. In short, a rare sequel is a movie that is better than the one that came before it. How to Train Your Dragon 2 is precisely the kind of movie I’d call a rare sequel.
Refusing to do away with any of the success created by the first film in its sure to be growing franchise, Dreamworks’ latest feature is a thorough reminder of the kind of work talented writers, animators, and actors can create if simply given the chance to focus on their work. Make no mistake, in an age when sequels are green-lit before most audiences have a chance to see the original film, it’s a treat to get to experience a follow-up that not only stands strong as a portrait of itself, but would also succeed as a standalone feature.
How to Train Your Dragon 2 begins five years after the conclusion of its predecessor. Life in the Viking village of Berk has flourished thanks to the introduction of dragons into the village’s social framework, and the once violent warriors who have resided there are now heavily intertwined with the dragons they once called enemies. As an animated film heavily targeted at children, How to Train Your Dragon 2 tells a surprisingly deep and compelling character-driven narrative. Its themes of love, understanding, and compassion will resonate with younger audiences, but this is predominately a story of self-identity, duty, and sacrifice.
Jay Baruchel returns to the role of Hiccup, and the actor’s naturally whiny voice is well-suited to the character’s neuroticism and anxiety. Since aiding Berk’s dragonic integration, Hiccup has spent his time travelling and exploring in search of more of the creatures. Joining him is his trusty steed and friend Toothless, a powerful, sleek, jet-black dragon who’s really more of a cross between an SR-71 Blackbird and a pussycat. More than being a metaphor or a symbol or even a marketing tool for the toymakers, Toothless is a full-fledged character whose personality and character provides a much-welcome foil to Hiccup’s anxiety-prone tendencies.
The film’s animation is masterful, and director Dean DeBlois deserves praise for his efforts in bringing this animated world to life. As dragons soar across the screen, flying through clouds, streets, water, and caverns, the camera follows every twist-and-turn, taking the viewer on a visual adventure. It would have been easy for DeBlois and the film’s animators to simply point the camera at the action, but the decision to fly into the sky gives the film a distinct look and feel.
However, it is John Powell’s riveting score, and Roger Deakins’ enthralling cinematography, that truly make the movie such a treat for the senses. Powell’s music is triumphant and blood-pumping during especially tense or action-filled sequences, but soft and harmonious – restrained – during the film’s more quiet moments. Deakins colour palette and his use of light stage scenes in cool greens, warm blue and reds, and striking greys. Out of cinematic context, each key-frame is an able picture, filled with visual and sensory detail.
I fill my review with praise, though the film’s one-note villain was disappointing. With a film filled with so many distinct, unique characters, I was disappointed that the single character defined as the villain was so lacking. As a result, I suggest a different reading of the story. Instead of a story of good against evil, much of the film’s conflict is internal. An adult, mature Hiccup must come to terms with his identity as future chief, and must deal with the knowledge that the mother he’s thought dead for 20 years is very much alive.
The villain, then, is not meant to serve as a singular obstacle to overcome, but to empower the hero into becoming the person he is meant to be. There’s no central antagonist – there’s a central, internal, deeply personal conflict. There is simply the truth that all children must grow up, all parents must let go, and all life must move forward.
In short, How to Train Your Dragon 2 is a stunning feature whose status as children’s animation must not be used to criticize the film as childish or juvenile.
