On the surface, Brad Bird’s The Incredibles appears to be a simple family film, albeit a well-made one. The importance of family is reaffirmed through a fun and colorful adventure, and the audience goes home happy. This probably explains why it was accessible to a tremendously large audience, becoming one of the most financially successful films of 2005. However, this simplification of the film’s thematic heft falls apart upon closer analysis. The film presents a criticism of what Bird perceives to be the celebration of mediocrity in present-day America, a theme that is also present in the works of author Ayn Rand. Although Bird has ostensibly made a film for children, in actuality he has created one of the more unique criticisms of America in Hollywood film today, a criticism that owes a substantial debt to Randian philosophy. In this paper, I will examine how, through a combination of beautiful visuals, levity and a thematic concentration on the importance of family, Brad Bird manages to create a film with what I will call a distinctly Randian or Objectivist critique of society that is also accessible to a mass audience. I will first concentrate on why the film works as a piece of mainstream entertainment, then provide a brief analysis of the Randian themes present, and finally explain what this combination of themes and techniques says about the film’s ideology.
To help in my analysis, I have chosen to analyze an 8-shot sequence that occurs towards the end of the film. This clip does not have tremendous thematic relevance, but it encapsulates the basic reasons the film succeeds in being entertaining while presenting some commentary on present-day America. The clip contains some character development and thematic commentary,1 but is mostly concerned with entertaining jokes and great visuals. The clip also illustrates the tremendous attention to detail and realism in its cinematography of the film. While the film is tremendously unrealistic in that it is both animated and about superheroes, a complete lack of realism would inhibit both the emotional investment of the audience in these characters and the resonance of the film’s themes.
The first aspect of the clip that I will discuss is the attention to realism, first in its adherence to the established cinematic language and then in its visual attention to detail. The established cinematic language is the idea explored in Christian Metz’s Film Language. In it, Metz argues that cinema itself is a form of language, with its own grammatical structures and vocabulary. Much like how a period informs the reader that a sentence is complete, a fade-to-black in cinema tells the viewer that a scene is over. The analogy, Metz argues, can be extended to the entirety of the cinema. The cinematic language is both convenient and necessary in that it allows for the film to communicate with the audience through understood techniques without having to explain the meaning of those techniques. The meaning of a cut does not have to be explored further because it has been previously established, and thus the film can more easily communicate with the audience.
What is important here is that the language established comes from live-action cinema and the restrictions of the craft. The Incredibles recognizes this, and it purposefully imitates the language of live-action cinema, even though it could possibly be liberated from conventional language by its animated nature. Although there is a camera recording the animated frames of the film, there are no actual spatial or lighting restrictions on the scene. The “camera” of an animated film can easily occupy positions it could not in a live-action film, and a new cinematic language could, theoretically, be established. The animators consciously chose to make it seem as though The Incredibles was filmed by an actual camera, even though it was not.
Part of the reasoning behind this decision comes from the film’s desire to maintain a degree of realism. The film is necessarily unrealistic because it is animated, and additionally its narrative is about the adventures of fictional superheroes. Although realism is clearly not its primary concern, some realism is necessary in order for the audience to invest in both the characters and the themes of the movie. If the spectator views the film as completely removed from reality, the film’s components would intuitively lose any real-world relevance. The second reason for using conventional codes of cinema is much simpler: the film can communicate more easily with the audience by using established cinematic language.
It is easy to see how the film uses the conventional codes of cinematic language in this sequence. In the first shot (0:00-0:03), the “camera” moves upward from Frozone’s (Samuel L. Jackson) hands to an over-the-shoulder shot where the audience sees Frozone applying aftershave while looking at himself in the mirror. This sort of “mirror shot” is commonly used in film to establish the location of the character, and it serves the same purpose here. The geography of the scene is shown both by the shot itself and the mirror’s reflections, and the viewer knows what character is being followed (Bonitzer 295).
The second shot (0:03-0:07) rotates the camera 90 degrees from its initial location, and it shows a panoramic view of the room Frozone is in. The third shot (0:08-0:09) is essentially from the same perspective of the first, and helps to maintain the kinetic nature of the first half of this sequence. The fourth shot (0:10-0:12) comes from the mirror’s location, and allows the viewer to see another perspective of the room while following Frozone’s movements. The fifth shot (0:12-0:17) comes from a cut-on-motion, a zoom in that informs the viewer that Frozone’s suit is missing. It also contains another shift up to Frozone’s face, where his eye line alerts the viewer to the presence of his wife. She is only heard, not seen, in this sequence, and the eye line match is another example of cinematic language being used to quickly communicate details about the scene.
The sixth shot (0:17-0:21) of the sequence initially seems to focus on Frozone himself, but then shifts to the explosion behind Frozone. It serves to set up the seventh shot (0:21-0:24), which is a reaction shot of what the audience has just seen. The cut allows the audience to see both the explosion Frozone witnesses and his reaction to it, and the meaning of the shots is clear only because of the usage of conventional filmic techniques. Through continuity editing and eyeline matches, the film communicates to the audience via the established cinematic language. This two-shot sequence illustrates perfectly how the film pretends to be a traditional live-action Hollywood film, and in doing so grounds itself somewhat in reality.
The final shot (0:25-0:38) is significantly longer than the rest of the shots in the sequence. The reason for this is that, while the first seven shots had to establish the imminent danger of the firefight going on outside, this shot is concerned with a simple search for clothing. Out of context, the shot could simply be about a man looking for a suit to wear to work the next day. Therefore, the length of shot increases to show the repetitive nature of searching for clothing. This entrenches the viewer in the domestic life of Frozone, which is crucial both in establishing the film’s themes and grounding the film in reality.
A final point I will make about the realistic nature of the film’s mise-en-scene is the fantastic attention to detail present in this sequence. The sequence has too many details to be listed without becoming repetitive, but several details must be pointed out. The use of shadowing and lighting in the scene is unbelievably well-handled. Every shadow and tint of lighting makes perfect sense considering the light’s source, most notably in the seventh shot (0:21-0:24) where an explosion causes Frozone’s shadow to be cast on the wall behind him. The motion of the characters and the objects in the scene is also quite realistic, as seen with the fluid but not abrupt movement of the bookcases in shot four (0:10-0:12). The attention to detail, on top of the conventional cinematography, grounds the film in reality in ways that its narrative and animated nature cannot.
I must now clarify something very crucial about the film before discussing its thematic content. Although I will seriously analyze the themes presented, it is vital to note that this film is a very light-hearted one. It is not intended to be a somber examination of the family in American society. The sequence I discussed above is clearly intended as comedic relief, and contains numerous jokes, both in its dialogue and in its visuals. For example, when a robot attacks a city, it is unexpected (and hopefully humorous) that a superhero’s biggest impediment would be misplaced laundry. Explaining why something is funny is a difficult task, but hopefully the scene above is evidence enough for the light-hearted tone present in the film2.
This comedic tone is important in two ways. Primarily, it allows for a much larger audience because it makes the film more of an entertainment than a thought-provoking piece of art. Secondly, it also makes the themes, notably the critique of society I will discuss later, less evident. It refuses to give the theme the utmost seriousness. This may or may not detract from the film’s thematic relevance, depending upon one’s personal opinions. Nonetheless, I discuss this because viewing the film from a serious analysis of the themes is an inaccurate portrayal of what the film is, and this is important to remember so that my analysis does not become removed from the film’s content.
Now that I have hopefully examined the film’s technical aspects and tone sufficiently, I will now move on to examining how this reality that the film has established allows it to explore its themes. The two themes I have chosen to analyze are the importance of family and the critique of celebrating mediocrity. The clearer and more obvious theme is the importance of family, although it is perhaps the least interesting one. Nonetheless, while this is a rather simple message present in many family films like The Incredibles, the film does a particular good job working with the theme.
The central family of The Incredibles is an incredibly well-drawn3 one. Bird uses their abilities as very overt metaphors for the problems that many families face. The father attempts to carry the family, quite literally in this case, as Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) is the strongest man alive. The mother, Elastigirl (Holly Hunter), has to be everywhere at once, as her ability to stretch out her body shows. The teenage daughter, Violet (Sarah Vowell), feels like nobody notices her, and she coincidentally has the power to turn invisible. The youngest son, Dash (Spencer Fox), is hyperactive, and also can run superhumanly fast. While these metaphors may be obvious, they go a long way in establishing the character’s problems as universal ones. The family, therefore, is not only fighting against supervillains, but also against their domestic struggles.
The importance of family unity becomes clear as the film progresses. On numerous occasions, one family member is saved only by the abilities of another, and the family emerges victorious only when they finally work together. The love between the characters is also clear, as it is explicitly stated in a convincing manner. Mr. Incredible confesses that he does not want his wife to fight because he “can’t lose her again,” a line that sounds much more emotionally resonant in context4. His wife assures them that if they work together they won’t have to, and proceed to beat the seemingly unstoppable robot present in my shot-by-shot analysis.
Although Frozone is a supporting character whose only family member, his wife, is never actually seen on film, it is clear that this sequence also stresses the importance of family, albeit in a more satirical manner. Frozone, who started out the film by stating that he would not like to know “a superlady’s satirical identity,” is now married. The sequence draws humor out of the routine quibbles of domestic life, and as such does not seem to directly state the importance of family. However, it is clear from Frozone’s argument with his wife that they are incredibly close, and that she does want to spend time with him. It may not be the most ringing endorsement of family in the film, but it still works as an acknowledgement of the workings of domestic life.
While the importance of family is clearly the central theme of the film, I will now discuss what is perhaps the more interesting theme of the film: the criticism of mediocrity. Because it bears striking similarities to the work and philosophy of author Ayn Rand5, it makes sense to briefly establish the relevant connections between The Incredibles and her novel Atlas Shrugged. In Atlas Shrugged, the novel’s protagonist, Dagny Taggert, as well as her three lovers, all are successful and highly capable captains of industry. Their efforts are continually impeded by the desire of the masses to create a sense of collective equality. The novel criticizes this continuously, but most clearly in a closing monologue by the mythical John Galt. In his monologue, he condemns the masses by saying:
You propose to establish a social order based on the following tenets: that you're incompetent to run your own life, but competent to run the lives of others -- that you're unfit to exist in freedom, but fit to become an omnipotent ruler -- that you're unable to earn your living by use of your own intelligence, but able to judge politicians and vote them into jobs of total power over arts you have never seen, over sciences you have never studied, over achievements of which you have no knowledge, over the gigantic industries where you, by your own definition of capacity, would be unable successfully to fill the job of assistant greaser (Rand 916).
It is clear that Rand openly mocks the idea of collectivism, but she is also saying that the people with true talent should not be controlled by the untalented. The parallels to The Incredibles here are numerous, but the clearest area where this occurs is a repeated refrain, used either villainously or mockingly. In the film, Mrs. Incredible says to her son Dash, “Everyone’s special.” Dash tellingly responds by saying “That’s just another way of saying no one is.” This is repeated later by Mr. Incredible, who has become frustrated by his boring office job and Dash not being allowed to compete in sporting events because he would be too good at them. It is said one last time as a threat by the main antagonist Syndrome. He reveals that his goal, which is supposed to be an evil one, is to give everyone superpowers. He once again reminds the audience, this time threateningly, that “when everyone’s special… No one is.”
However, this is not the only time the film critiques the celebration of mediocrity or celebrates the superiority. Although the character exists mostly for comedic relief, fashion designer/supersuit architect Edna Mode (Brad Bird) has a very telling line in describing why she loves working with superheroes as opposed to models. She says, “Supermodels - ha! Nothing super about them. Spoiled, stupid little stick-figures with poofy lips who think only about themselves. Feh! I used to design for GODS!” While this is clearly a humorous comment, by referring to superheroes as “Gods” she demonstrates that these are truly powerful people worthy of appreciation, maybe even worship.
Though the sequence I analyzed may not directly comment on the celebration of mediocrity, the scene with Frozone and his wife does provide a more light-hearted take on this theme. Frozone is attempting to go out and be a superhero, to use his talents. However, his wife’s desire for a “normal” dinner is preventing him from acting. Clearly, this scene is not intended to be a thematically crucial point, but it nonetheless does have some elements of the themes that exist throughout the film.
It is at this point that I must ask the question: What does this Randian criticism mean in terms of the film’s ideology? Certainly it seems to have an ideological condemnation of the society in which it exists, but is a critique of a capitalist society, America, for being too collectivist a critique at all? When analyzed in terms of Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, it becomes clear that scholars like Benjamin would reject this criticism. To many early film scholars, the debate about cinematic ideology was painted in broad strokes. Film could endorse or reject communism, fascism, and capitalism in its methods of enunciation and narrative, but the general ideas of Benjamin, as well as others, seemed to indicate that the ideologies were almost exclusively defined by these governmental/economic systems. I doubt that Benjamin would accept a critique of a capitalist society as not capitalist, in the same way that he would reject a critique of Nazi Germany as not fascist enough (Benjamin 684).
However, it is my argument that, while this may be applicable to films of Benjamin’s time, his theories must be altered to fit the present political situation. When considering the slate of first-world countries,6 nearly every nation is somewhat socialist and somewhat capitalist. The US of Benjamin’s time had little to no government welfare programs, while the US of today does. As well, fascism and communism have nearly disappeared, leaving room for the counter-ideology of democratic socialism. However, instead of being diametrically opposed systems of governance, I would make the simplified argument that they are just different shades of the same system. So, even though the US falls on the capitalist side of the scale, it is not to say that it is a purely capitalist system, and thus criticizing its socialist nature would be a valid critique7.
Now it comes time for me to attempt to classify the ideology of the film. I will use the system presented in Comolli and Narboni’s “Cinema/Ideology/Criticism” to classify it, although I will not try to present a rigid definition because there is clearly some ambiguity, but I will offer up some options as to what the film is. The only clear part of the film’s ideology is that its methods of enunciation are clearly of the “dominant ideology.” Not only does the film adhere to the conventions of Hollywood cinema, but it must actually make a conscious effort to do so. It imitates the form of live-action cinema, and in doing so has clearly imbued its form with the dominant ideology (Carmoni 689).
However, it becomes much harder to classify the political content of The Incredibles. The importance of family is certainly not a subversive critique of the society in which the film was created, but it is not truly an endorsement of the United States either. Families exist in any political or economic system, so this theme could seem to have little relevance to the film’s ideology. Conversely, it could be argued that the family unit portrayed is uniquely American, and therefore this theme would be an endorsement of the dominant ideology.
The most problematic aspect of the film to classify is its Randian critique of the celebration of mediocrity. I have already dealt with the question of whether or not this is a valid critique, but I admit there may not be a clear answer. Even if it is valid to critique a capitalist society for being too collectivist, does this subvert the dominant ideology? On one hand, the US prides itself on being an individualist nation, so this critique would not be subversive at all. On the other, Bird seems to say that this pride is misplaced, that the US in fact does not celebrate individualism. Although I have made the argument that this is a valid critique, it is impossible to say that one or the other is a definite fact, so I will leave the room open for interpretation.
It becomes clear that this is a type A or E film8. Its methods of enunciation are clearly of the dominant ideology, so we know it cannot be a type C film. It is not overtly political, as a Michael Moore documentary would be, so type B is nonsensical. Whether or not it is a type E film, a mild critique, or a type A film, totally of the dominant ideology. I argue that the critique of society is a valid one, but I have also clearly stated that the Randian critique is a subtle one. It exists in the context of an entertaining, light-hearted adventure film, and thus is not an outright critique. However, I concede that this is not definite, and there is some room for interpretation.
The Incredibles is a film that is not as easy to judge as it would initially appear. While it uses conventional cinematography and themes, the Randian critique the film contains is intriguing subversive. It critiques a capitalist society not for the flaws of capitalism, but rather for its non-capitalist characteristics. How one should classify this critique is not clear, as some film scholars would dismiss it as not being a critique at all. In conclusion, Brad Bird’s The Incredibles is a well-made piece of conventional entertainment with an interesting critique lying just below the surface.
1. 1.The thematic commentary is much clearer in the other sequences I bring up, but I believe the sequence has traces of both themes I will discuss.
2. 2.The intent of this paragraph is two-fold. One, I am attempting to accurately portray the film, as I stated in text. Secondly, I hope to dispel doubts that my analysis is flawed by an inaccurate portrayal. I concede that this is a light-hearted family film, but that should not detract from an in-depth analysis of its themes.
3. 3.I apologize for the half-hearted pun here.
4. 4.Indeed, it is hard to prove emotional resonance based upon dialogue alone. The line I quoted sounds hokey out of context, but it comes only at the end of a sincere debate between a conflicted Mr. Incredible and his wife.
5. 5.I must here state that I am not attempting to endorse or criticize the thematic message of Ayn Rand’s works. Nor am I attempting to say that the film fits in with her entire philosophy; indeed, the movie also mocks the impersonal nature of corporations, which is not at all a Randian message. Instead, I believe that the two works (The Incredibles and Rand’s novels) contain one similar theme.
6. 6. I despise using the term “first-world countries” because I find it pretentious, but I felt as though it was needed. I made the specification because I doubt that the systems of government in nations of the “third world” (again, I apologize) are often tyrannical, and thus I doubt that any scholar would argue that they could ever be considered as a legitimate system of government.
7. 7.I recognize that trying to explain the entirety of the geopolitical differences of Europe and the US between today and the 1930’s in two sentences is bound to be oversimplified to a fault. However, my main goal here is to point out that there needs to be at least some alterations to previous theories of film and ideology to accommodate a tremendously changed world.
8. 8. The lettering system is quite annoying in this context, and sounds very stupid when discussed briefly. However, it is a good way of classifying film and hopefully my brief descriptions are sufficient.
Works Cited
Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." Illuminations: Essays and Reflections. first Schocken paperback edition ed. New York: Schocken, 1969. 665-686. Print.
Bonitzer, Pascal. "Off-Screen Space." Cahiers du Cinema Dec. 1971: 291-305. Print.
Comolli, Jean-Luc, and Jean Narboni. "Cinema/Ideology/Criticism."Film Theory and Criticism 7th Ed.. New York: Oxford, 2009. 686-693. Print.
The Incredibles (Two-Disc Collector's Edition). Dir. Brad Bird. Perf. Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter. Walt Disney Home Entertainment, 2004. DVD.
Metz, Christian. "Some Points in the Semiotics of Cinema."Film Language: A Semiotics of the Cinema. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 1990. 67-73. Print.
Rand, Ayn. Atlas Shrugged. New York: Plume, 1999. Print.
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