On paper, the title might sound a little crass. A film based entirely around a product? You could even be forgiven for being cynical, seeing the use of a toy brand as little more than a ruse to flog even more play-sets. You could think that, but you’d be so wrong and end up missing out on a truly wonderful film. The LEGO Movie is a lot of things, but cynical is definitely not one of them. It’s positively teeming with life and energy. It’s bizarre, colourful, optimistic, frequently hilarious, and perhaps most surprisingly, genuinely touching. Like the most celebrated of kids' films, though, The LEGO Movie is really about what it means to be a child, and therefore, it has a much wider audience: everyone. It’s an everyman narrative, with Emmet (Chris Pratt), a humble construction worker, being plucked from obscurity and suddenly burdened with the expectation of saving the LEGO universe from an impending apocalypse. He’s an utter nobody. But the film takes him on a a thrilling journey, and along the way he learns something not only about the world he lives in but something more important about himself.
Overall, the story is compelling, well-paced, if perhaps a touch too long. On his plastic pilgrimage, he’s accompanied by Wildstyle – she’s a Master Builder, one of several special mini-figures blessed with ability to build anything from the LEGO around them (think Neo at the end of The Matrix, and you’re somewhere close) and a motley crew of supporting characters. Some are familiar faces, drawing on some of LEGO’s strongest licenses, such as Batman and Superman, while others are entirely original creations like Metal Beard – a gigantic mech topped off with the head of a weary sea dog. (I hope you’re beginning to see just how crazy all of this is.) It's surprising and delightful to see how much latitude co-directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller were given with these iconic characters. They make Batman into a bit of a dick and relish poking fun at Green Lantern, who’s so desperate to make friends with the cool heroes. But it’s really testament to the film’s integrity that such well-known characters never really become the focus of the film.
Batman is the only licensed character with substantial screen time, and that’s still very much in a supporting role. Importantly, it’s the new character that you really invest in and take to heart. Morgan Freeman is excellent as hippy wizard sage Vitruvius, dispensing confused wisdom and plenty of laughs. Elizabeth Banks is inspiring as the kick-ass female lead. Will Ferrel’s Lord Business is maniacal but has depth to stop him from becoming a pantomime villain. But it’s really Chris Pratt who steals the show as the endearing, hapless Emmet. The sweet character development takes place against an ever-changing, increasingly bonkers landscape. It starts pretty differently, firmly in the confines of the straight-laced LEGO City range – a world that emulates our own. As Emmet breaks free, the situations and places he finds himself in become increasingly bizarre. Yet no matter how crazy or eccentric things get – and I’m talking getting saved by Batman in the Old West after tangling with a herd of wild pigs kind of crazy – the world is underpinned by a logic that ingeniously explains how all the distinct LEGO worlds co-exists.
It acknowledges the toy’s long history, but in a way that doesn’t seem forced and crass. I’m saying no more, as that’s a treat you should find out for yourself. I’m actually only really hinting at how weird things really become. It’s also consistently funny – I must’ve laughed out loud a dozen time. Computer graphics perfectly imitate stop-frame animation, magically bringing this world of little plastic people to life. And even with their somewhat restricted bodies, the mini-figures exude life and character. The use of LEGO also gives the film a style of its own and gives the action a distinctive look. Set pieces often involve characters frantically building new vehicles or special items to help them escape. It’s exciting to watch these items appear rapidly before your eyes, and they really give the film some great kinetic sequences. Elsewhere, the solidity of LEGO adds a unique look to environments, especially elements like smoke and water. They swirl and flow as a mass of solid bricks, which I’ve never really seen in a film of this length before.
There’s a jaunty quality to the animation – it’s a bit rough around the edges but intentionally and endearingly so. Right up top, I said The LEGO Movie was wonderful, and meant that in quite a literal way. It isn’t as elegant or refined as something like Frozen. It’s more anarchic, surreal and rambunctious. It is bursting with wonders, like a child on Christmas Day desperately wanting to show you all of their new toys. And it was because of all of this frivolity and humour that I wasn’t expecting the film to have quite such an emotional kick in the final act. There are a couple of scenes towards the end that really got to me. Not only is it a well-judged, heartfelt sequence, it also serves as a great epiphany which changes the way you look at the entire film. It’s in these final moments that The LEGO Movie becomes a little bit special. In the end, it’s heartening that despite all of the licensed characters, The LEGO Movie remembers there’s something much more enduring – and that’s LEGO itself.
It really gets to the heart of what the toy is all about and why it has prospered for over 60 years. It’s a film that believes everyone can be creative; that everyone is special; and that imagination is so powerful it can flourish even within a system bound by rules. Not bad for a film about a toy.Watching The LEGO Batman Movie feels like dumping a bag of Dark Knight-flavoured sherbet directly onto your brain. Within the opening ten minutes, Batman faces and foils almost every villain you could possibly name – and more than a few you probably couldn’t – in a spectacular and thrilling action sequence that rivals any found in the live-action Batman movies in terms of sheer excitement and scale. With Gotham’s worst incarcerated in Arkham Asylum – yet again – Batman retires to Wayne Manor where he microwaves a simple lobster thermidor for one. (Incidentally, watching Batman use a microwave is very funny.) Will Arnett’s Batman is probably the loneliest version of the character to date.
This is played for laughs, of course, with Bruce struggling to go out in public without the cowl, but it’s also unexpectedly moving. We see Bruce rattling around his ancestral home, watching romantic comedies, messing about with HDMI feeds, and practicing rad guitar solos alone. There's something genuinely melancholic about watching the Dark Knight eating a ready meal. Big changes are coming, too. With super-cop Barbara Gordon (Rosario Dawson) taking over from her father, advocating reform over vigilantism, the very idea of Batman is under scrutiny. Meanwhile, the Joker (Zach Galifianakis) – struggling to cope with the idea that Batman doesn’t think of him as his arch-nemesis and frustrated by Gotham’s incompetent villains – hatches a plan to unleash the worst prisoners trapped within the Phantom Zone. It’s a simple yet brilliant plot, which allows director Chris McKay to take full and greedy advantage of DC’s rich universe – and a few others – to tell a uniquely bonkers but also surprisingly poignant story.
There’s lots crammed into this movie, but ultimately it’s about Batman letting himself be part of a family once again. Although packed with great action and bags of character, The LEGO Batman Movie’s main strength is its frantic sense of humour. Every scene is studded with all types of gags – from smart allusions to silly stuff, sight gags and innuendo. Even if they don’t all quite land, the script is so rapid-fire, you never have to wait long for a decent laugh to come along. That said, I think I could’ve done with less of Batman beat-boxing. The movie mines its best comedic material from Batman’s relationships with other well-known DC characters, riffing on our pre-existing knowledge of them. In particular, it has a lot of fun playing with the twisted inter-dependence of Batman and the Joker, articulated in the likes of The Killing Joke and The Dark Knight. Here it’s treated as if it was a dysfunctional hook-up, with the Joker heartbroken to discover Bats is ‘seeing’ other villains, and what they have isn’t special.
Some of the funniest moments come from when the script taps into wider Batman mythology, and there’s similarly sharp and funny moments to enjoy with Robin, Superman, and the rest of the Justice League. Arnett’s gravelly tones and deadpan delivery are perfect for this reclusive, grumpy incarnation of the character. LEGO Batman is bit self-absorbed and arrogant – the Dark Knight has never talked so much about his abs – but Arnett ensures he’s vulnerable and still likeable. But the real standout is Michael Cera’s impossibly wide-eyed Robin, whose enthusiasm knows no bounds. He plays the Dick Grayson version of the character, who is accidentally adopted by Bruce Wayne at a charity function. Before long, Dick stumbles into the Batcave and becomes Robin, wearing the tiniest shorts imaginable for extra mobility. Cera’s performance is bouncy and hilariously naive, while the animation is particularly strong – Robin’s cheery expressions and jam-jar glasses, magnifying the wonder in his eyes, consistently had me in stitches.