Film Review: Dumbo (2019)
Call me sentimental, but Dumbo isn’t as bad as everyone is saying. I wouldn’t call it great, though, and at times I might not even call it good. But, at nearly two hours long, it managed to keep my 4-year-old daughter at attention, and that’s worth something. Dumbo falls flat more than it doesn’t, but when it soars, it does so respectably enough.
In a change from the 1941 film, director Tim Burton puts the focus on the human element and in doing so loses some of the magic and wonderment those old Disney movies are known for. I suppose with the Lion King remake on the way the brass decided they had enough talking animals on the books for one year. Whatever the case, Burton’s Dumbo lacks much of the outsider angst appeal of the original but makes up some of that ground with spectacle and visually pleasing imagery.
My daughter doesn’t know anything about Tim Burton’s body of work. She doesn’t have to, she’s only four. But, when I glance over at her in and see that she’s on the edge of the way-to-big-for-her theater seat, something in me clicks about “target audiences.” At several of the film’s tense moments, she was fully and attentively riveted. When Dumbo finally flies in front of an audience, I heard an audible “woo-hoo.” Say what you will, but I call that a success. I don’t love Tim Burton as a filmmaker (in fact, I actively dislike many of his movies), and I didn’t love Dumbo, but my daughter’s reaction to it warmed me up to it.
That’s really the crux when it comes to Dumbo. As a parent, there’s not a lot of options when it comes to an afternoon out at the movies. Factoring in quality usually narrows choices down to virtually none. So, when a film comes along that’s both entertaining for kids and (hopefully) not torturous for attending adults, perceptions of “worth” can be skewed – even for grumpy film critics. A film’s value can sometimes be measured in more than just plot, cinematography, acting, and emotional impact. Sometimes, as a parent, it can be measured in the joy you see your little one getting from it. Dumbo is clearly the latter.
That’s not to say the other elements aren’t worth mentioning. The cast mostly hits their marks as well as can be expected. The Farrier children (Nico Parker and Finely Hobbins) are as good or better than most their age. Stingy circus owner Max Medici (Danny DeVito) is thankfully more Louie De Palma and less frank Reynolds while Eva Green as the French high-flyer is a gem no matter the role. Michael Keaton might overact some as the P.T. Barnum-esque V.A. Vandervere, but it’s in a fun, mustache-twirling sort of way which lends itself to the film just fine. The weak link is Colin Farrell, who, while not offensively bad, is nothing more than average and shallow. For the main character who’s just returned from the trenches of France, he’s given no depth whatsoever. There’s so much opportunity for an exciting character with a dynamic arc to flourish, but every turn is wasted.
While Dumbo may be covered in Tim Burton’s fingerprints, it isn’t as garish as many of his films. His usual childish absurdity meets dark carnival aesthetic lends itself nicely to the circus motif but thankfully isn’t overdone. In a setting that seems tailor-made for Burton to run wild in, he wisely dials it back – a feat no doubt made easier by the noticeable absence of a certain Mr. Depp. Whatever the reason, had the director gone full Burton, I’d likely be singing a different tune. In the end, what we’re given is a likable enough story with enough heart to muster a positive response. I’d have liked it to go further into the title character’s ostracization from the other animals (a worthwhile aspect of the original) and a deepened exploration of how uniqueness is often only accepted if it’s profitable, but that might be asking too much from Disney at this point.
