Review: Despicable Me

Pure Squee-vil 

Dir. Pierre Coffin, Chris Renaud 2010 

Postmodern pop art has been dealing in anti-heroes for decades. It’s almost strange now to root for a regular old hero, a la Superman. Children’s films are an interesting place to look for hero mythology, because these stories are, ideally, supposed to play a role in the development of the next generation. While Disney and Pixar hold down the fort of traditional heroism, DreamWorks has been making thoroughly postmodern children’s films for the last decade, beginning with Shrek. David Denby of the New Yorker chastises DreamWorks’ methodology, which he claims has “children being entertained with derision before they’ve been ravished by awe.” Children’s films are, supposedly, where we set up archetypes that can later be broken down and questioned, but not before coming of age. But DreamWorks positions itself diametrically opposed to Pixar’s style, sacrificing soul for quick jokes, pop culture references, and satire. And here we have “Despicable Me,” a film with a premise right in the heart of the witty deconstruction: we root for the bad guy. The DreamWorks mold has its limitations when it comes to heartfelt storytelling, but “Despicable Me” is an example of what this genre gets right: it’s smart, hilarious, and self-conscious without giving in to pure snark. But it loses out to Pixar by replacing true emotion with the cutesy. 

At the center of the madcappery at work is Steve Carell’s Gru, our polygonal, Russian-accented would-be fiend. He’s just trying to get a foothold in the evil genius market, but he’s thwarted at every turn by an obnoxious rival, Vector. Vector’s gleaming white array of gadgets looks straight from the Apple Store, and Gru’s more modest means can’t earn him the villain status he craves. So when a trio of orphan girls crosses his path, he schemes up a way to use them for his most dastardly plot of all. It's all very predicable, but it unfolds so gleefully that you never mind. 

“Despicable Me” is old-school visual comedy, hearkening back to the days where comics contained the barest of captions. As the camera shows us around Gru’s house, we are greeted with wall-to-wall visual puns and gags, details we might miss without paying attention. The colors are bright, the features are exaggerated; this is more cartoon than “animated feature.” The chase scenes and effect-less violence call the Looney Toons to mind. It’s great fun, and nice to see a film where the comedy is not stuffed to the brim with fart jokes or pop culture references. 

 The superhero genre continues to be done and overdone, with parodies to spare. “Despicable Me” follows in this tradition, but its focus on the villain is an under-explored angle (though not for long, with “Megamind” being released hot on this one’s heels). What kind of antihero is Gru? What’s the difference between him and an average Super Protagonist? Obviously, he’s “evil,” but what does that mean? In the context of the film, not a lot. Gru just wears a black hat. He’s a bad guy. That’s what he does. Duh. Who needs some complex “motivation”? It’s actually quite a clever send-up of Disney villains, arbitrary “bad guys” signaled with a malevolent laugh but lacking any substance or motive, like Bowser from the Mario Bros. Oh, it’s time to kidnap Peach again, is it? Gru’s just an average villain trying to advance in his career, and any “evil” in the film is misleading. It turns out being a villain pretty much comes down to stealing the biggest thing possible, or simple inconsideration (e.g. cutting in the Starbucks line). 

So how postmodern is “Despicable Me”? It does depict “evil” in a very arbitrary way; evil is more of a lifestyle choice or career move than anything else. A clever scene has villains taking out loans at the bank for their next evil venture, a sly nod to the economic climate of our times. We will always have stories of villain’s hearts being changed by an innocent influence. But Gru’s decision at the end feels less like rejecting evil, and more like rejecting selfishness or loneliness. It’s not highly moral, but it doesn’t ruffle the viewer too much. 

“Despicable Me” isn’t attempting psychological analysis of movie villains. It’s all about the premise, a kind of messed up Mr. Mom affair: Dude, wouldn’t it be awesome if we stuck one of those movie villains with a bunch of cute little girls in his house? But really, a lot of great films start out with “Dude, wouldn’t it be awesome if--,” and the movie largely delivers on the promised hilarity. The jokes are quick and big, and it’s very stylistically sophisticated. But the biggest presence in the film is actually the all-consuming cuteness. Never before have I seen a film so single-minded in its mission to offer its audience cute in such concentrated measures. Little Agnes, the youngest of the orphans, could easily beat out Pixar’s Boo and Bonnie with one pigtail. It’s pure joy to watch. Gru’s minions, round, yellowy little guys, are so full of spunk and personality, it’s hard to know where to look. It’s engineered for constant smiling, but never comes off as syrupy, because it’s nestled in a movie of wit and alleged malevolence. But the question is, does cute count as “heart”? Up to a point. There was a small moment that was genuinely touching, but overall, the film makes up for its predictability with an endless barrage of sugar that goes down wonderfully but doesn't leave much to reflect on later. 

 In the hands of Pixar, “Despicable Me” might have explored a deep emotional place in Gru, finding out where he would connect with these kids. It might have explored the moral ramifications of Gru’s actions, using the girls to show him what he ought to value in life. But, as is, “Despicable Me” is no morality tale, no story of evil overcome by virtue. It’s crankiness met with the sheer force of adorable. Actually, it’s not unlike “UP” in that way. But where “UP” ends with a wistful, sweet fadeaway, “Despicable Me” ends with a funky dance number. What did you expect? 

Myth: 

A villain’s melted heart 

Reformation by influence of children 

Adopted Orphans 

Moral: 

People ought to let other people in their lives 

The one with the most toys doesn’t always win 

Zeitgeist Factor: 

Being DreamWorks, there is a great amount of cultural awareness present. From satire of tacky tourists to the difficulty of securing a loan, the film shows us lots of little scenarios cut from American life. Ultimately, the movie taps into one of America’s favorite sentiments of the moment, that Juno-style sour-but-sweet feel. We’re too cynical to accept a straight fairy tale, but too tenacious to reject a sweet little hope inside the sarcasm.

3.5/5