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| Chip and Dale |
A Review of Chip and Dale: Rescue Rangers by Nick
Olszyk
Distribution Service: Disney+
MPAA Rating, PG
CSM Rating, 6+
Reel Rating, Three Reels
Disclaimer: Spoilers Ahead
In
the late 1980s, the Walt Disney company launched their first cable network The
Disney Channel, designed for affluent households filled with children eager
for round the clock cartoons. To entice subscribers, Freshman CEO Michael
Eisner tried something revolutionary: parental nostalgia. Rather than invent original
characters, he rebranded old properties with exciting new shows. The characters
from The Jungle Book became Tailspin, Donald Duck and company headlined
DuckTales, and two acorn loving rodents formed Chip and Dale: Rescue Rangers. None of these shows were enormous hits, rarely going past a 2nd
season, but they made a lasting impression on their Millennial audience. Now
Hollywood finds itself in the second round of nostalgia as this generation
becomes consumer and artist alike. Thus, we have the 2022 feature length reboot
of this serial reboot. The result is certainly “fun,” although that’s the most enthusiasm
that can be mustered for this limited audience.
Chip
and Dale borrows a trope from Roger Rabbit, imagining a universe
where cartoon characters are real actors living alongside humans. Chip and Dale
were once big stars but after the cancellation of their series, they quickly
became has-beens. Chip (John Mulany) survives the aftermath well as a
successful insurance salesman. Dale (Andy Samberg), however, clings to waning
fame, getting computer-generated “surgery” and earning a meager income by cameoing
at fan conventions. Estranged from a bad falling out, they must reconcile for one
last case after their friend Monty (Eric Bana) is kidnapped.
Lots
of films have leaned heavily on nostalgia and metahumor (Muppet Treasure
Island, Turning Red, etc), but I’ve never seen a picture whose entire
existence is based exclusively on these elements. Without a second viewing, I can
still remember allusions to South Park, My Little Pony, Gumpy, Beauty and
the Beast, James Bond, Indiana Jones, and probably hundreds more. Many are
quite clever, like a poster encouraging toons to vote Beavis from Beavis and
Butthead for president, simultaneously lampooning the animated series and
Mike Judge’s classic political farce Idiocracy. Others are tired, redundant,
or flat out boring. The summary effect is a film that feels like an extended
SNL skit or YouTube parody rather than a fully formed feature production.
What
was more innovative was the shear volume of animated styles packed into a
single narrative. Rescue Rangers is not the first film to combine
traditional drawn animation and 3D computer characters, but it is the first to
do so in a mainstream feature with the styles in obvious contrast. Not only
that, but it also includes live action actors, motion capture personalities, Claymation,
and even a sock puppet. While this brings up odd questions of philosophy and physics
(where is the hand animating the sock?), the atmosphere is never confusing.
This is a world where nearly anything is possible, and it works.
In
the age of social media and constant detraction, every movie
is wanting in some way. When Rescue Rangers was released, bored reddit
users immediately found fault with the central villain, Sweet Pete (Will
Arnett). Like Chip and Dale, Peter Pan was a big star until puberty made him
unbankable. He descended into a life of crime, creating a business that kidnaps
toons and alters them into “bootleg copies” for a quick buck. Aside from the
creepy resemblance to human trafficking, fans also found identified similarities
to the real-world actor Booby Driscoll, the voice of Peter Pan in the 1953
Disney original. He too was a child star until Disney cancelled his contract at
sixteen. Afterwards, he fell into homelessness and drug addiction. When died of
an overdose at thirty-one, he was so forgotten his own mother did not discover
his fate until a year later.
The
claim
is the filmmakers deliberately and maliciously mocked Driscoll with this character.
The charge is faulty on two counts. First, the motif of a child star hitting
rock bottom is well established in literature. Furthermore, Peter Pan as the “boy
who never grows up” is ripe as a candidate, which was already examined in Spielberg’s
Hook. Second, even if the writers
were aware of Discoll’s situation, he has been dead for well over sixty years
and could hardly take offense. He is put one target among dozens in this
narrative. As Mel Brooks once quipped, “I’m not prejudice. I make fun of
everyone.” Like so many faux-news stories, this is just clickbait.
It’s
difficult to imagine Chip and Dale appealing to a younger audience, and
the dark material makes it an even harder sell. Yet as a member of the
generation that grew up with these characters, it would be a lie to say I was not
constantly amused. There’s value in something that is just fun to watch, and
this certainly checks that box.
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