Shorts (2009)

Austin, Texas wunderkind director Robert Rodriguez has worked with fellow cineaste Quentin Tarantino since 1995, when the former directed the latter in Desperado and both men directed segments of the film Four Rooms. Two years ago, they created the double feature Grindhouse together. Now, on the very same day that Tarantino’s long-awaited World War II film, Inglourious Basterds, is finally released, Rodriguez releases Shorts, which appears at first glance to be at the opposite end of the spectrum from Tarantino’s work, yet borrows from both men’s previously established styles to make a hilarious, cleverly-made movie that’s fun for all ages.

When I first heard I’d be reviewing a movie for kids titled Shorts, I anticipated making at least one bad punny reference to the title in this review; I certainly never dreamed I would be mentioning Pulp Fiction in it. Yet Shorts takes one of the most notable conceits of that film — its nonlinear, episodic narrative — and puts the time-shifting, chaptered structure in the hands of a 13-year-old protagonist and narrator, a braces-wearing bully magnet nicknamed Toe (Jimmy Bennett, young James Kirk in the recent Star Trek film). That’s also the reason for the movie title, as it’s presented in a series of “shorts”, chapters which are sequentially numbered but shown out of sequence. If that sounds confusing for kids, don’t worry, it’s not — that actually adds to the fun, as things that seem odd or without explanation at first are revealed later in “earlier” scenes. (Like why does that one kid have candy bars falling out of his pockets?)

Toe’s parents (Jon Cryer and Leslie Mann, who redeems herself here after her boring recent appearance in Funny People) both work for Black Box, a high-tech company whose headquarters and only product — an all-encompassing gadget called the Black Box — both resemble an all-black Rubik’s Cube. This gadget is interestingly animated as it shifts shapes from a baby monitor to a bullhorn and everything in between, and not only serves as a poke at the iPhone and other omnifunctional devices, but also helps to illustrate people’s increasing reliance on electronics over personal contact. Fortunately this movie doesn’t beat you over the head with meaningful messages like that — or maybe it does, as the company’s founder is named Carbon Black (played with cool malevolence and just a hint of a twinkle in his eye by James Spader). If that character name is a groaner, his son and daughter have it even worse, and I won’t spoil their names for you here but hearing the daughter’s name made me guffaw loudly (it’s one of those gags that many won’t get but those who do will laugh as hard as I did), and it pays off later with an insult at her expense that is simply and comically brilliant. This snotty, spoiled little rich girl is played by newcomer Jolie Vanier, who looks like Christina Ricci but is much funnier. Of course, she’s the school bully who menaces Toe the most. (She has a scene on a motorcycle, and Rodriguez makes her look just like badass Rose McGowan in his previous film, Planet Terror.)

And of course, they battle each other and nearly everyone else in their corporate-controlled neighborhood, all over a rainbow-colored “wishing rock” discovered by local boy Loogie (Trevor Gagnon) and his two brothers. This rock manages to wreak all kinds of havoc in a “be careful what you wish for” manner as it passes from person to person, like a comic variant of the old story “The Monkey’s Paw.” Instead of the anguish and dread fueled by the wishes in that story, the results of wishing with this rock include such insanities as tiny aliens, a telepathic baby, crocodiles that walk upright, and a GIANT BOOGER. It cracks me up that the special effects in this film — which are quite well made throughout and fun to watch without overwhelming the story — include the creation of a GIANT BOOGER. Even funnier, the always awesome William H. Macy plays a germophobic scientist who has to fight the thing! Parents, if the thought of seeing a GIANT BOOGER or hearing the occasional rude noise repels you, you may be a bit too sensitive for this movie — but I bet your kids are snickering at the same thought. Similarly, there is a freeze-framed image in this movie, seen twice, that made a woman sitting behind me say “Ohh!” in a rather shocked tone; but the majority of the audience laughed, both times, at this incongruously ridiculous image, which I really want a copy of for my computer’s desktop.

Rodriguez treads familiar ground here, having previously created the Spy Kids trilogy, and as with those films he brings a refreshing perspective to entertainment for kids — he doesn’t “dumb it down” for the young audience, he doesn’t “Disney-fy” it with sappy messages and mushy stuff, the adult characters are not ciphers (as in the recent Disney film G-Force) but more substantial, and the young people are more believably portrayed and much less cartoony than in most movies. For example, Toe’s teenage sister Stacey (Kat Dennings) easily could have been just another instance of the stereotypical self-absorbed teenage brat who wants nothing to do with their younger siblings; instead, Rodriguez and Dennings dance on the edge of that archetype and give her some nice believability. When she drives up while Toe is walking to school and grudgingly says, “Dad says I’m supposed to give you a ride,” that rings true to my ears. And the idea that she tutors a shut-in young boy is both a positive trait to see and a clever means to draw her further into the chaos created by the wishing rock. Her character is rewarded with a funny recurring subplot including a hilarious payoff.

The movie stumbles a little at the very end with a weak resolution, a few things don’t pay off effectively, and the product placements are a bit egregious at times. But there’s so much frivolous fun and laughter generated by this movie that those caveats are practically negligible. It’s a very satisfying film — the cast is excellent top to bottom, the visual effects are cool and amusing, and you may laugh at Shorts so much you’ll soil your own. (I told you I’d work in a joke on that title.)