GODDAMN, IS IT gorgeous to look at. 9 is
full of astonishing visuals—brilliantly conceived things that
twist and gleam in the light, moving with a fluidity and a vigor that
most animated characters can only dream of. The world of 9 is a
haunting, haunted place—one of bombed-out buildings, grimy skies,
and vestiges of long-dead humanity—and watching the film’s
burlap-sack protagonists creep and dash through it, their tiny
mechanized eyes full of fear and awe, is undoubtedly impressive.
And then the story—what little of it there is—starts,
fades, and mumbles away for an hour or so before it ends, leaving
little behind except memories of some killer visuals and a few solidly
directed sequences.
It’s disappointing, because 9 never stops promising more than
it delivers. Its too-scant story begins when a tiny creature made of
burlap and a zipper awakens in an abandoned workshop, a big “9” drawn
on his back; venturing out into a post-apocalyptic wasteland, 9 (voiced
by Elijah Wood) finds a world that’s prowled by killer robots and
littered with the rusting, rotting husks of human civilization. He also
finds some other burlap sack pals, who’ve either been bravely surviving
on their own or have somehow escaped from LittleBigPlanet.
There’s the affable, friendly 5 (John C. Reilly); the badass warrior 7
(Jennifer Connelly); the rambling prophet 6 (Crispin Glover); and the
pissy, self-appointed leader 1 (Christopher Plummer). Once 9 is
accepted into this burlap crew, what results is kinda like what’d
happen if Pixar made The Terminator: Cute burlap creatures fight
off the eeeevil robots who killed humanity, learning a little something
about themselves along the way.
Problem is, that’s all there is to it. 9 is based on a
10-minute-long, Academy Award-winning short that Acker made in 2005,
and despite his and co-writer Pamela Pettler’s efforts, this
feature-length expansion adds nothing of consequence. In his
near-perfect original short, Acker’s rag-doll creations didn’t speak at
all (let alone bicker in celebrities’ voices), and there, the
pared-down, fast-paced story moved with purpose and felt stuffed with
weirdness and intrigue. Even at a brief 79 minutes, this blown-up
version of 9 feels drawn out and sluggish; it’s less a deeper
examination of Acker’s melancholy, brilliantly imagined world than a
longer, less memorable visit.
This being said: While it’s hard to recommend going to the theater
to see 9, you know what’s a perfectly good idea? Keeping 10
bucks in your pocket, making some microwave popcorn, and looking up
Acker’s original 9 on YouTube.
