It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966)

"On Halloween night, the Great Pumpkin rises out of his pumpkin patch and flies through the air with his bag full of toys for all the children." So the legend goes.

Charlie Brown's cut too many holes in his ghost costume. Snoopy imagines he's a WWI flying ace shot down by the Red Baron. Linus stays up all night in the pumpkin patch waiting for something that will never come. Disappointment all around; a metaphor for life. Oh well, maybe next year will be different.

Fun bit of trivia: This was the first Halloween special ever to be broadcast annually. Still ranks up there with the best of them.

5 rocks in the trick-or-treat bag out of 5

Garfield's Halloween Adventure (1985)

AKA: Garfield in Disguise

The fat orange cat loves Halloween. What's not to love? You get to dress up like a pirate and demand free candy from strangers. This one used to spook me when I was a kid because there was an actual element of danger to it. That's what used to make Halloween fun. Specials like this, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown still occupy a part of the brain I long associate with childhood. This is still worth revisiting nearly 40 years later.

5 HEEEEEEEYYY KIDS!!!!!! out of 5

Halloween is Grinch Night (1977)

A lesser-known follow-up (and prequel) to Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas! Objectively, this isn't a great special, but it grows on you through subsequent viewings. The animation style can only be described as a psychedelic fever dream; almost like Seuss took one too many mushrooms. Unfortunately, Boris Karloff was no longer around to lend his voice, and the songs aren't particularly memorable either, but somehow it still manages to capture an eerie aura that feels synonymous with the holiday.

If you can make sense of the muddled plot, you're a better Who than I.

2½ euphemisms out of 5

Robot Dreams (2023)

An original 2D animated movie in 2023? What did we do to deserve this? This Spanish-French co-production is charming specifically because it manages to tell its story without a word of dialogue, simply through image and song. The plot involves an anthropomorphic dog who is extremely lonely and decides to purchase a robot companion (there is an implied romantic connection, but we fill in the blanks). They spend every day together, creating lasting memories, until on the last day of summer, the robot ends up indisposed. I'll leave it at that.

There are certain aspects of this movie that pissed me off, including the polarizing ending, but it's the kind of film that stays with you precisely because of how unique it feels. I admit that I like it a lot more in retrospect than I did at the time.

3½ circled dates on a calendar out of 5

The Iron Giant (1999)

Based on Ted Hughes' 1968 novel The Iron Man: A Children's Story in Five Nights, it tells of a friendship between a spirited nine-year-old youth named Hogarth and a fifty-foot iron giant from space who eats metal, which is an activity that doesn't go unnoticed by the townspeople. When a busybody federal agent begins snooping around, believing the visitor to be a foreign threat, he causes more problems than he had intended to solve.

The 1957 setting has a wonderfully rich aesthetic, populated with well-fleshed out secondary characters, purposeful cold-war caricatures that personify governmental paranoia and coercion, and many loving nods to 'atomic age' science-fiction movies. Crucially, beneath its era-specific strengths is an inspiring emotional layer that's uplifting and unquestionably timeless.

5 duck + cover sirens out of 5

Cat Shit One (2010)

A short CGI animation (approx 22 mins) directed by Kazuya Sasahara and based on Motofumi Kobayashi's manga of the same name. Technically promoted as the first episode of a series, to date it's the only one to appear, so I'm treating it as a short. It features armed bunnies in a middle eastern war zone. Furry mammals at war with foreign camels may seem comical on the surface, but the work is deadly serious and realistically violent. While the mo-cap animation often feels like video game FMV, the camera follows the action just like it would for live action, successfully placing the viewer in the thick of it.
The story follows two soldiers, Packy and Bota, as they attempt a rescue mission amidst superior enemy numbers. The characterisation is decent, considering how brief it is, and voices in the Japanese version are great.

3½ tailed gunners out of 5

Ponyo (2008)

aka Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea

A creepy human-faced fish hitches a ride on a jellyfish, leaving behind its equally creepy-faced siblings. Ponyo, as the free-loader comes to be called, is rescued by five-year-old Sōsuke, and so begins a magical friendship.
At least, that was the idea, but it didn't feel very magical to me for a long time. Besides a spectacular scene involving Ponyo and a storm, the first hour felt more like two. But things changed for the final third. The relationship between the two children grew deeper and it became reminiscent of My Neighbour Totoro (1988). Ponyo's 'everything is new and exciting' attitude became uplifting, and the adventure took on new life. The destructive tides and planets situation seemed a step too far, but the story redeemed itself emotionally, which is what saved it in my eyes. But I won't watch it twice.

3 nap times out of 5

Godzilla: The Planet Eater (2018)

The entire Godzilla Reiwa era thus far (four films) has been utterly dire. It's a mix of stubbornness and hope that's got me through it. The conclusion of the animated trilogy is perhaps the worst of the trio, precisely because it had the potential to be the best of them but cocked it up in every conceivable way: its core theme is needlessly convoluted, when heartfelt simplicity would've been more meaningful; the twins and the egg scenario amounted to nothing but disappointment; and the showdown between Godzilla and Ghidorah is a lifeless bore with yet more tiresome commentary from the spectators.
The story's attempts at turning such notions as belief, Godhood, and gematria into a binding philosophy are laudable but altogether laughable. In each case, the poster art of the anime films are better than the films themselves.

1½ wings of death out of 5

Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle (2018)

While the mothership searches the battlefield for survivors after the first battle, Sakaki discovers something unexpected on the planet's surface. His plans to take the world for humanity aren't completely beaten yet.

Visually it's as bland as before, with 30 shades of blue and not much else, but for a time the story is more interesting - if you can cope with all the made up science. Alas, once thunder-thighs comes on the scene it all falls apart. Too often we learn about what's happening from prosaic people talking about a situation, instead of showing us what's actually happening. Godzilla is rarely seen, and when it is onscreen it's lumbering and lacks any kind of wow factor. The commentary on evolution and degeneration had potential, but ultimately anything interesting gets pushed aside so that a CGI battle can happen.

2 passing crows out of 5

Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters (2017)

The first part in Toho's CGI animated Godzilla trilogy follows a group of uninspiring survivors on a spacefaring vessel that's running low on resources after twenty years of travel. In desperation, they plan to confront Godzilla, hoping to destroy it and take the planet it resides on for their own.
It's a grim story with dull colours and equally dull dialogue. The Godzilla design resembles the US version, with the stupidly thick wrestler neck and gargantuan size. The 'threat' does very little other than take a few steps and shoot some atomic breath; mostly the creature is little more than a boring target for the humans to shoot at and comment upon. The planet has no buildings or man-made structures, no unlucky civilians, there's nothing interesting for Godzilla to destroy and, by extension, very little for a viewer to sympathise with or even relate to. It's a joyless start to the trilogy.

2 electromagnetic waves out of 5

Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf and Death (2008)

In the last (and best) of the W+G shorts man and pooch are running a bakery business from their home. A safer profession than window cleaning, one might think, but there's a serial killer doing the rounds – one that kills bakers.
Being a murder-mystery means there are sinister tones throughout, but the story doesn't skimp on laughs and inventiveness because of it, although some of the jokes will require a certain level of movie knowledge. On the opposite side tonally, romance is in the air once again for Wallace, who's madly in love with an ideal - while Gromit has to endure the sickening pet-names. It's a good thing the dog's dedication and loyalty are unwavering.
Animation is masterful, and sets are beautiful and wonderfully detailed. All in all, it's a fitting farewell to the short film format for the beloved characters.

5 butterings out of 5

Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave (1995)

In the dead of night a sinister truck stops outside the duo's house. W+G are tucked in their respective beds (the latter doing some studious knitting), unprepared for what's happening outside. Naturally, it spells trouble for the dedicated pooch, but there's more than just Wallace's safety to worry over.
Yet again the set-ups are pitch perfect, and there's more inventive daredevil manoeuvres that prove Aardman's mastery of the stop-motion format. There's a few subtle in-jokes for those that watched the previous shorts, and even a romance sub-plot for the Wensleydale cheese-eating inventor.
Notably, A Close Shave has the first appearance of another Nick Park created character, a sheep who got a spin-off TV show and movie all of his own.

4 rustling yarns out of 5

Miss Hokusai (2015)

Set in Edo during the first quarter of the 19th Century, it tells the story of O-Ei, a daughter of renowned ukiyo-e painter Katsushika Hokusai, who is herself accomplished with the brush. She assists her father when his stubbornness (or general laziness) takes him elsewhere for a time. Their relationship is often strained, in part due to various unique frustrations on both sides. O-Ei's reserved attitude to male attentions and her general lack of life experience can be seen in her work by a trained eye; if she's to evolve, to ignite the indefinable spark of genius, she'll need to step outside her boundaries.
The supernatural/folkloric side of Japanese period art isn't ignored, bringing a distinctive beauty to the work, but it's the simplicity of the quieter scenes, some without any dialogue, that really raise the drama up.

4 bridge sounds out of 5

Wallace and Gromit: The Wrong Trousers (1993)

It's Gromit's birthday, but that doesn't mean he gets time off from chores. Worse still, the household bills are piling up, so Wallace suggests a paying lodger - the duo's equilibrium in under threat. When a beady-eyed shifty penguin answers the advert, Gromit's life gets even more stressful.
The trousers of the title are techno-trousers, a time-saving crazy Wallace invention. They play a role in the drama, a scenario that channels a few different genres (including heist and classic British horror) to good effect.
The claymation animation was great in the previous outing, but TWT is a sizeable step up from that. I loved the UFO catcher scene, but the film's crowning achievement is a scene involving a toy train. It would've been a labour of love to animate, but the result is unequivocally worth it.

4 shocking calamities out of 5

Mirai (2018)

While it's true that Dir. Hosoda's works are appealing less and less to me with each subsequent release, Mirai stands out as a drastic drop in that direction. That's a wholly subjective feeling, consolidated by my hatred of the lead character, a yapping four-year-old that I found to be completely insufferable. The basic premise, about a child who meets various members of his family from differing time periods, thus influencing his whiny little turd attitude in his own (present) time, is a genuinely fun idea, but the concepts and leaps of understanding that the child makes are much too advanced to be believable, meaning that even objectively the work fails to respect its own agenda.
In the interest of balance, the film has received a lot of praise elsewhere.

2½ bullet trains out of 5

The Boy and the Beast (2015)

Shaken by a recent tragedy, nine-year-old runaway Ren ends up lost and alone, confused and angry on the streets of Tokyo. More than that, although maybe not aware of it at the time, he's in need of a parental figure to look up to. When he encounters Kumatetsu, a resident of the Beast Kingdom in search of a disciple to train, Ren’s hunger and curiosity get the better of him.
Dir. Mamoru Hosoda's film is a coming-of-age tale in an unusual guise, that being it's set mostly in a world that's populated by anthropomorphic beasts.
It took me a long time to warm to it, but its exploration of what constitutes 'strength' in the eyes of others and oneself, and showing how differences can be celebrated and learned from won me over eventually. If it had achieved the same in a lesser time, I'd have liked it more. As is, it felt too long.

3 dishrags out of 5

Father Christmas (1991)

The answer to what Father Christmas does with the 360+ days of the year that he isn't working comes courtesy of another Raymond Briggs adaptation.
The red-nosed gift-giver sounds remarkably like comedian Mel Smith (because it is) and lives in England, which was news to me. We witness him holidaying in Europe and America, indulging his passions at the expense of his suffering wallet. His antics make him somewhat relatable, but he's too much of a complainer to actually like very much. It has a slight connection to The Snowman (1982), but it isn't in the same league. And while the character designs are similar, the animation is less pencil-esque pretty than the other.

2½ bloomin trots of 5

The Snowman (1982)

Based on Raymond Briggs' picture book (1978) of the same name, the beautifully hand-drawn frame animation The Snowman has become a British national treasure over the years. My version has David Bowie trying to fool viewers into believing that he was the kid who went on a magical moonlit adventure; if that's true, why was he opening James Brighton's present?
I love how the snowman is as awed by the peculiar world of man as much as the kid is awed by the walking snowman, and I love how music takes the place of words. Only once is there lyrics, a single song that's come to define the entire production. It's used during the scene that's referenced and parodied most, but in tandem they capture the magic of youth superbly. But for me it's the animation's memorable ending that really makes it special.

3½ chilled revellers out of 5

Sky Blue (2003)

aka Wonderful Days

A South Korean animation that attempted to blend traditional 2D cel animation with CGI and photographic backgrounds. There's some fine movement at times, but the merger is rarely a complementary one; it's jarring and fairly unsightly.
The story's set in 2142 AD, in and around a living city known as Ecoban. Outside the city the world is poisoned; it's where the diggers live, unfortunate slum-dwellers who work to provide power for the well-off city folk. One such individual, Shua, wants to break apart the unfair societal and class divisions.
The themes that underpin Shua's quest aren't very well-developed and have been explored better in other sci-fi works. On a more personal level, he longs for a world in which the sky is once again blue, free from pollution; it's that, and the operatic final twenty minutes, that make any of it worthwhile.

2½ dust clouds out of 5

Loving Vincent (2017)

I'd the good fortune of studying Van Gogh academically (FE), so much of the visual side of LV was familiar to me. It's prior experience and the hand-painted (in oils) film frames (66,960 of them!) that kept me interested in the telling, because the story itself arguably doesn't have the power to do it alone. Set one year after the painter's death, it uses 94 of his works, as either inspiration or setting, within which a questioning young man attempts to posthumously deliver the subject's final later to his brother. The people he meets and the opinions they give form a picture of the troubled painter's final days.
The contemporary scenes are rendered in Van Gogh's distinctive style; it works like a rotoscoped film, so is spectacular but can be a little tremulous at times. The B+W flashbacks are much steadier and appear to have more detail.

3 starry nights out of 5