How do you play with your Legos? Um, I mean, how did you play with your Legos? (Because surely adults no longer mess around with such things.) According to The Lego Movie - a fantastic family comedy that’s as much artistic expression as it is product placement - how a person goes about constructing toy blocks can reveal a lot about how they view the world. To be clear, The Lego Movie is a clever, computer-animated kids’ flick first and foremost, starting with its straightforward story. The film opens in a meticulously ordered Lego city, where a construction worker named Emmet (voiced by Chris Pratt of television’s Parks and Recreation) wakes up every day and follows a printed list of instructions. So does everyone in the city – they buy the same (overpriced) coffee, construct blandly rectangular buildings, watch a single, insipid TV show and join in singing an omnipresent, incessant pop song with the brainwashing title of “Everything Is Awesome!” (One of the film’s ingeniously diabolical touches is that this song will get stuck in your own head.)
Who runs all of this? An obsessive-compulsive overlord with the ominous title of President Business (Will Ferrell). All is fine – and ordered – in President Business’ world until the arrival of WyldStyle (Elizabeth Banks), a mysterious loner with unauthorized streaks of color in her hair. After meeting Emmet, WyldStyle reveals that she’s part of an underground rebellion trying to bring individuality, spontaneity and creativity back into the Lego universe. Don’t feel too bad if you somewhat side with President Business. He is, after all, just the extreme version of the kid (or adult) who follows the instructions right down to the last brick, freaking out if pieces from another set even come near. We can’t all be the type that dumps a bucket of random Legos on the floor and comes up with something inspired. In fact, what’s great about The Lego Movie – aside from its endless stream of jokes, including an Abraham Lincoln figure who buzzes around in a space chair – is that it isn’t simply a rant against oppressive order.
The movie is equally suspicious of the sort of chaos unbridled individualism can bring. On their adventure, Emmet and WyldStyle stop in a place called Cloud Cuckoo Land, where hodgepodge figures like Unikitty (a cat with a unicorn horn) and the aforementioned Lincoln reside in a state of disarray. The problem isn’t that these characters are disordered, but that they all exist in tension or conflict with each other. In Cloud Cuckoo Land, we see individual autonomy run amok – it’s relativism in the shape of plastic blocks. If you watch carefully, you’ll notice that The Lego Movie gently argues for something in the middle – something between suffocating conformity and individualistic anarchy. Call it creative community. There are many dazzling escape sequences in the film, as Emmet and friends are pursued by President Business’ henchmen, and during one of these our heroes must quickly construct a submarine. As they work in furious bursts, each character’s contribution has its own unique spark (Emmet builds a double-decker couch).
The key, however, is that they’re all working toward a common good. Is it possible to apply this concept of creative community to our understanding of Christian community, especially as it applies to the church? The early gatherings described in the book of Acts have gone on to spawn Amish enclaves, Roman Catholic parishes, American megachurches and countless other variations. Are some of these too ordered? Should the church be aiming for that sweet spot – creative community – or might that hold its own dangers? And most importantly, which character was your favorite in The Lego Movie?Though my kids and I saw “The Lego Movie” last week, I’ve been avoiding blogging about it. Contrary to what some commenters claim, I don’t relish seeing yet another movie for kids with the same old sexist pattern that’s been done so many times my head spins. I’m so fucking sick of the Minority Feisty, I could scream. I cannot believe Hollywood keeps churning out this shit. The last line of the movie, the finale, is all you really need to know to understand the sexist stereotyping throughout.
Batman (a major character, while Wonder Woman gets two lines) urges his girlfriend, Lucy, to go off with, the movie’s protagonist, saying: “No, Lucy. He’s the hero you deserve.” The girl– and she is the girl– is the prize to be won. Why can’t a girl be the fucking hero? Here’s what drives me crazy about this film. “The Lego Movie” is all about prizing creativity above all, yet, when it comes to gender, innovation flies right out the window and cliche dominates the imaginary world. It’s just like how in “Turbo” the movie’s message is that a snail can win the Indy 500, follow your dreams, be anything you want to be…unless you happen to be a girl. Same with “Planes:” anyone can become a champion, even a crop duster, except for…females. What are children supposed to think about possibility and potential when in narrative after narrative girls are stuck in supporting roles if they get to exist at all? The bad guy (yes, bad guy) in “The Lego Movie,” Mr. Business, is evil because he wants all the LEGO sets to stay only with their intended pieces.
He wants to build impenetrable boundaries to make sure nothing too creative goes on. His deadly weapon, the kragle, is superglue. To Mr. Business, LEGO is not about process and creativity, but a static, finished, perfect product. This is a brilliant message to teach kids. Art is about process (not to mention, life.) LEGO’s self-awareness about its toy surprised and impressed me. The movie’s narrative illustrates the problem I have with LEGO sets (besides their sexism, of course.) Every time I struggle through yet another 1,000 piece project with my kids, I wonder: What is the point here? What are we learning, how to follow directions? Near the end of the movie, Will Ferrell, who voices Mr. Business appears in human form. He’s angry with his son (yep, his son) who’s in the basement, playing with Ferrell’s completed LEGO sets. The kid has put a dragon on top of a building, where it’s not supposed to be. Ferrell gets mad, and the kid says, “But it’s a toy! For 8 to 14 year olds.”
Ferrell says, “That’s just a suggestion!” At this point, like so many other times in the movie, I cracked up. The villain is my husband. While I lie there wondering what the point of LEGO is, he’s snatching up pieces, trying to finish the set himself, do it all perfectly, and once it’s done, he puts it somewhere high up where no one can reach it. So, this is what I want to know: LEGO, how can you be so creative, smart, and funny but then fall into tropes when it comes to gender roles? Why can’t you break through the impenetrable boundary of your own sexism? There’s one Minority Feisty gleam of hope that comes at the end of the father son scene. After an epiphany, Farrell lets his kid enjoy the LEGO and says, “Now that you’re allowed down here, we’ll have to let your sister play too.” Cue the scary music. Could this be the next movie? Girls are allowed to play, front and center? And what if those girls are actually seen having an adventure, not shopping or eating at a cafe or taking care of sick puppies or whatever LEGO Friends allows them to do?