9 (2009)

The post-apocalyptic animated adventure simply titled 9 looks dazzling at first glance. (And it’s not a feel-good cartoon for little kids, not by a long shot, so parents are hereby warned.) Unfortunately, it’s yet another example of the tendency in today’s Hollywood to give all the attention to visual design and special effects, as a distraction from the paper-thin, unimaginative story and uninteresting characters.

This bleak, sad film begins with the awakening in a laboratory of a strange little humanoid about the size of a rodent, with fabric for skin, shuttered lenses for eyes, a zipper down his front, and a “9” written on his back. He leaves the lab to find the outside world decimated and reduced to rubble and random detritus. 9 soon encounters 2 (Martin Landau), a wise old scavenger who fits a speaker into 9’s zippered chest cavity and gives him a voice (Elijah Wood). 2 introduces 9 to several more numbered cloth-skinned beings, including the friendly and monocular 5 (John C. Reilly), the striped and weirdly obsessed 6 (Crispin Glover, appropriately cast), and their dictatorial leader, 1 (Christopher Plummer). 9 is quickly informed by the others of their present circumstances: Just like in the Terminator movies, mankind built machines for “good” but instead they became “evil” and turned on mankind, wiping them out. The only sentient beings left appear to be this little band of blob-like fabric bags, and one rampaging machine they call “the beast.” When this beast grabs 2 and runs off, 9 leads a rescue mission with the help of 7 (Jennifer Connelly), a rogue warrior who wears a bird’s skull for a helmet. But the rescue goes from bad to worse when 9’s wide-lensed curiosity, coupled with a strange device he’s brought with him from the lab, causes a BIG machine to be reactivated — a machine that can create more machines to seek out, trap, and absorb our little numbered heroes.

9 features an interesting and diverse voice cast, and I must give special credit to the filmmakers for casting classic character actor Alan Oppenheimer as the voice of the scientist who created 9 and his numbered companions. (Oppenheimer has appeared in numerous TV series and films since the mid-1960s, including the role of the chief supervisor of robot repairs in one of my personal faves, the sci-fi classic Westworld.) So the voice casting is great, the sets appear dark and forbidding, there are lots of weird and nasty-looking machines, and there are action sequences and explosions and lots of fluid camera work. But the movie also features a pedantic and predictable plot, and characters as empty emotionally as they are physically — they’re built with machinery, and only serve to push the lumbering story forward. This emotional detachment also robs the vaguely interesting ending of any real meaning or significance to the viewer.

The film is adapted from an 11-minute Oscar-nominated short film of the same name from 2005. Director Shane Acker, with this new 79-minute version, obviously benefits from the visually stylistic background of his famed co-producer Tim Burton. Also on board here is screenwriter Pamela Pettler, who previously penned Corpse Bride for Burton’s production company. I wonder why, given the relatively brief running time, Acker and Pettler didn’t attempt to define these numbered characters better and give us a compelling reason to watch them. Maybe the visual effects grew too expensive for them.

Burton’s involvement may be beneficial for this production as a whole, but it also seems like a big drawback. His movies tend to feature similar characteristics: dark and twisted subjects, offbeat protagonists, Danny Elfman music, bizarre and often gothic-inspired visuals, and sadly, a lack of truly heartfelt emotion that audiences can relate to. His first major feature, Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, was wacky and ridiculous and over the top, yet it was fun and appealing to audiences because we cared about Pee-Wee and his quest to recover his stolen bike. But with the exceptions of the near-masterpieces Edward Scissorhands (which 9 blatantly steals from) and The Nightmare Before Christmas, Burton’s previous works as director and producer usually have left me feeling quite detached, as though I’m supposed to just sit back and enjoy the eye-popping visuals rather than try to be invested in a meaningful, logical story or engaging characterization. I keep waiting for him to knock me out with a truly great work of cinematic art, and instead I’ve been repeatedly disappointed. 9 is just another number in that sequence.