There is an irresistible urge while watching Monsters, Inc., to stand up, walk to the screen, and start stroking James P. Sullivan’s fur. Mr. Sullivan, a monster who goes by the ho-hum moniker of “Sulley,” has the most naturalistic covering Pixar has created in its four feature films with Disney (Monsters, two Toy Storys, and A Bug’s Life). Sulley’ seven- or eight-foot tall body is covered with tens of thousands of little blue strands of hair, and each hair sways and swings to its own rhythm. The effect is so lifelike I wondered if Pixar had ditched animation on Sully and swapped in a man in a Muppet costume.

Sulley’s fur is quite auxiliary to the joys of Monsters, Inc., but it’s symbolic of why Monsters is the most enjoyable of Pixar’s four films: authenticity. I don’t mean to imply authenticity in a Saving Private Ryan study-in-misery way -- Monsters is nothing if not enjoyable -- and I certainly don’t want you to infer that Pixar has lost the whimsy that made their first three films enjoyable. What’s impressive about Monsters, Inc. is that Pixar adds layers of authenticity and poignancy to their trademark merriment and high-concept story.

(The high-concept story, in case you’ve missed television commercials the past month: Monsters use children’s screams to power their world. However, monsters believe children are toxic! Child breaks into monster world. Hilarity ensues.)

The authenticity starts with Boo, a child who speaks in half-formed sentences laced with gobbledygook; she’s the one who manages to sneak into the headquarters of Monsters, Inc. In a casting decision not oft made outside of Charlie Brown specials, a child (named Mary Gibbs) voices Boo. Because Boo’ s “lines” are mostly made up of random unprompted phrases from Mary, Boo herself feels as real as the two-year old four seats over and one row back. Further, dialogue has never been Pixar’s strongest feature -- the films lean too hard against the make-everything-quotable wall -- so having one of the three protagonists barely able to speak is actually beneficial. (As Pixar’s greatest moment, I’d punch my chad for the silent short “Geri’s Game.”)

I said there were three protagonists, but I’ve only mentioned Boo and Sulley. That’s because the third, the green one-eyed creature named Mike Wazowski, is about as important to Monsters as dinosaur Rex is to Toy Story. There’s one scene that probes the distance growing between Sulley and Mike a la Ghost World, but this is the story of Sulley and Boo: Sulley as a father proxy for Boo, and Boo as a child proxy for Sulley. With the immediate bonding between Sulley and Boo, one wonders if Boo has a father figure in her life. Certainly Sulley acts like a devoted divorced father, pampering and protecting his child until the sad day she has to go home to Mommy. There’s a scene where Boo walks in on Sulley trying to scare a (fake) child; it’s easy to imagine it analogous to a child eavesdropping on her parents fighting. I can’t recall a more -- dare I say it? -- authentic portrayal of parenthood in any animated film.

And yes, Monsters, Inc. is fun fun fun. As are all Pixar’s films, it’s bound too much by the plot to completely go wild -- probably a good thing -- but it is more manic and more joyous than any animated film of Disney’s modern (read: The Little Mermaid on) era. John Goodman, who was disappointing in The Emperor’s New Groove, is touching as Sulley, and the rest of the cast does well enough. The animation is realistic when it ought to be, is surreal when it ought to be, and is more than a few steps above DreamWorks’ computer animation attempt named Shrek. And it ends on one of the most touching moments in a Disney movie ever. Even if your “child” is a stuffed pig named Oliver, see this Monsters, Inc. And bring Ollie along.

Reprinted from the December 2001 issue of the Spring Hill Review. Used with permission.

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