Worth: $17.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Phoenix Laroche, Alex Lawther (voice), Helena Bonham Carter (voice), Samantha Colley, Leonard Buckley
Intro:
… offers much to be enjoyed by all ages, boasting quaint scenery, a bit of magic and plenty of heart.
“What does ‘real’ mean?” This question, posed by the eponymous toy of Jennifer Perrott and Rick Thiele’s The Velveteen Rabbit, gives voice to the film’s central concern. Based on Margery Williams’ beloved 1922 children’s book, the film follows a young English boy named William (Phoenix Laroche), who has recently moved to a palatial but secluded estate and finds himself overcome with loneliness.
In one early scene, William rehearses introducing himself to some local children and it is quietly heartbreaking. On Christmas morning, William’s parents (Samantha Colley and Leonard Buckley) give him a small stuffed rabbit (voiced by Alex Lawther) with a chestnut brown body and pink satin ears. William swiftly falls in love with the rabbit, having finally found a friend. That night, the rabbit (along with the cruel cast of other toys in William’s nursery) comes to life and raises a nebulous question. The motherly rocking horse, voiced pitch-perfectly by Helena Bonham Carter, responds, “being real isn’t about how you’re put together, it’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time… really loves you, then you become real.”
From this exchange, one chisels away the film’s timeless message: that the ability to love and be loved are what make a person (or a toy) real. The film, then, isn’t about reality as such, but what makes a relationship authentic and therefore meaningful.
The film flitters between live-action and animation, the former indicating reality, and the latter denoting fantasy. The live-action sequences are full of visual and sonic texture, marked by glimmering lamp light, William’s woolly, forest green gloves, chiming clocks and rosy, frost-kissed cheeks. And yet the viewer is always encouraged to believe that the animated world, with its flatly drawn figures and impossible action sequences, is as real, perhaps even more so, than the ‘real’ realm. Its verisimilitude lies in the relationship between the boy and the toy. While the setting is cartoonish, when the pair emerge from the tunnel of William’s imagination and the child clasps the rabbit to his chest, we are made to feel the very real affection they have for one another.
The Velveteen Rabbit navigates complex subject matter, but always deftly balances the warm and sentimental with the metaphorical and abstract. Take, for example, the scene in which the rabbit lies next to William in bed while he is sick. The toy stays by the child’s side to support him through his illness, though he knows he will consequently be burnt in a decontamination bonfire the next morning. Self-sacrifice and unconditional love are lofty concepts for a young audience to grasp, but Lawther’s sincere performance and the film’s elegant dialogue help make them accessible. Certainly, The Velveteen Rabbit offers much to be enjoyed by all ages, boasting quaint scenery, a bit of magic and plenty of heart.
