Luca
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
You can usually tell what a Pixar film will be like just from its promotional material alone. Did anyone doubt that Wall-E would be anything less than stellar? Were Cars and its followups not obvious cash grabs? Even something like Onward was underrated because of how its teasers felt; it still was a part of the good-but-not-amazing Pixar catalogue. There are few exceptions like Brave, which wasn’t as great as it seemed it would be, and Up, which was ten times better. Luca is another example of this. On paper, it seemed like it was going to be the next big Pixar triumph. It follows Soul which placed the studio back into the win column. Its mysterious promotional footage left cinephiles curious. Was this going to be a daring look at young love? Was this Pixar’s answer to Call Me by Your Name? Where did this whole sea monster aspect tie in? Whatever the story, Luca was shaping up to be perhaps Pixar’s next master work.
Well, I can easily say that Luca is good, but it never really quite matches Pixar’s best works narratively. We get a much safer picture that sacrifices depth for wonder, nuance for splendour, and development for aesthetics. The titular Luca is a sea monster that lives in the sea next to a series of Italian islands. He is in charge of herding sheep fish for his overly protective parents. Sea monsters in this film can disguise themselves as humans once they leave the water and dry themselves off of any droplets. Luca’s parents are viciously against this idea, while Luca — who previously shared the same sentiment — is encouraged by another young boy sea monster named Alberto. All of this story is detailed incredibly quickly, but not in the prettiest way. Instead, Luca doesn’t care about how painfully convenient it feels. Luca’s parents just discuss the dangers of going on shore mere moments before Alberto brings him onto — you guessed it — the shore. The Pixar of old would try to have at least a little bit of care in building these worlds and allowing them to grow naturally. Luca almost feels like a series of thresholds (chapters, introductions and conclusions, dream sequences and more) that only work together because they all feature the same characters, the same settings, and can correlate narratively. Otherwise, Luca is a little blocky.
However, once Luca gets going a little bit, some of these thresholds and shallower storytelling moments don’t feel quite as bad, and some moments feel like classic Pixar once again (as if the rest of the film was made to support these moments). One key scene (without spoiling) involves Luca and Alberto and a female friend Giulia that results in a heartbreaking revelation: it is an organic shift in character roles and the story’s tone. Even though the moments that follow don’t quite let this punch linger as long as it should, it’s nice to have these miniature successes in the film. Furthermore, there’s the underlining theme of the film that renders it strong enough on its own two feet (or flippers): the concept of being a fish out of water (quite literally, in this case). Even though director Enrico Casarosa has said that Luca is not based on this, one can’t help but feel like the film speaks towards forbidden homosexuality in an old fashioned town, or mistreated immigrants trying to exist. There’s a major conversation involving acceptance here, which is pleasant and moving enough for all to see.
Additionally, the visuals are some of my favourite of any Pixar film ever. The Italian country and sea sides are magnificent to watch, but it’s the under water moments that are breathtaking; even though Finding Nemo is still an amazing animation achievement, seeing what bubbles, debris, and sea life Luca has to offer in its little moments show just how far the studio has come. Fantastic art design, a brilliant score by Dan Romer, and the occasional moment full of that Pixar magic we’ve come to know and love renders parts of Luca the exquisite, masterful film I think we were all expecting. Otherwise, Luca is good and worth a watch; it won’t be a risk to try. Having said that, I do think about what could have been, with more time to tell the story, some different revelation methods, and a dash of faith in the film itself (the convenience of how easily problems resolve, or when plot pivots happen far too predictably, really holds what is meant to be an exploration back). Luca will warm your heart, but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t resonate with you for a long time quite like Pixar’s finer efforts.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.