Up, Up and Away

This past Saturday I managed to FINALLY persuade my friends in accompanying me into seeing the Pixar animation Up. Though guided as a child-orientated movie, its content was, definitely, much deeper than what lay on it's exquisitely generated 3D surface.

Now this is quite normal for animation studios to have adult-humour in their movies (Animaniacs is a famous example) but Up definitely had a much more adult-orientated nature than any other film I've seen from the 'Toy Story'-famed production studios. From its portrayal of a couple's miscarriage/inability to produce children, and constant mention of the retirement village 'Shady Oaks' right to a true WWE moment where, after a shot to the forehead, the showing of blood ('OMG blood in a Pixar animation?!', you say? Believe it...). But the most prolific adult-themed message in the movie was not delivered in controversial fashion at all, instead it was put-forward to provoke thought in us: Are our own fantasies/beliefs really worth hanging on to, and are they really what we think they are?

The movie centres around the adventures of a brusque elderly man, Carl Fredricksen, and Russell, the Wilderness Explorer who's never explored anything passed his own living-room. Both share many characteristics and backgrounds as both are trying to overcome familial issues (For Carl, the death of Ellie, his wife, and for Russel, his estranged father), but the most striking is the way Russel portrays the younger, more ambitious Carl (seen at the beginning of the movie) in the sense of working tirelessly in making his childhood dream - of finally attaining the rank of 'Senior Explorer' - his life.

For Carl, however, his lifelong ambitions have varied due to his maturation. The younger Carl is portrayed as an avowed fan of the movie's antagonist, famed explorer Charles F. Muntz. It was through this admiration that led for him to find a bond with Ellie and later marry and give birth to a shared lifelong goal; to live in Paradise Falls (The area where Muntz re-departed for, after claims of his skeletal findings being fictional, to capture a living creature and restore his reputation).

After managing to fly his house (and accidentally Russel), with the aid of balloons; Carl's dream is shortly dashed as a storm brings his house down barely short of Paradise Falls. With only a few days left of helium, Carl must, at any cost, reach his goal and get his house exactly where Ellie had pictured it in her childhood. On his journey to pull his house the rest of the way, Carl must overcome many distractions brought on by Russel's overactive and childlike mannerisms. None, however, would affect it quite so much as the integration of Kevin (the very species Muntz hunted) and Dug - the talking dog - with our two main characters.


Suffice to say - as to not regurgitate the entire plot of this epic movie - Kevin would lead Muntz into the equation as well, and the thought of finally mingling with his childhood hero was just too much to pass-up for Carl. But his idol was not as he had envisioned... After many years in isolation - save for his trusted dogs - Muntz had grown both greedy and paranoid. A far cry from the heroic and admirable explorer the press had portrayed him to be.

It was because of this that Carl would be torn between helping Kevin reach her (Russel believed her to be male) young or finally attaining his goal. Selfishness prevailed and Carl returned to his house, losing both Russel and Russel's respect because of his decision. Thankfully, however, Carl would later leave his dreams and rescue Russel, forming a lifelong bond.

Our lives are exactly the same. Though we might not live in a house suspended by thousands of balloons, we all have dreams and perceptions. Dreams we grow-up with and always seek to fulfill, even if they're unattainable. The want to have a dream and to pursue it is only natural, and there's nothing wrong with that, it's just we should never choose these things above the welfare of another. Just like Carl, when we finally attain the thing we've always longed for, we've hyped it up so much that it greatly fails to meet our own expectations. The same cannot be said, however, for the euphoria we feel when helping another. So sure, it's nice to dream, but there's a vast difference between the possibilities of our imagination and reality; and we cannot let our dreams (attainable or not) overshadow what we can do to help those around us, no matter how estranged the connection to us is, because THAT is what our lives were meant for.