★★★★

Rating: 10/10 (1 November 2014)

The Lego Movie is something of a miracle. It rushes along at breakneck speed, zipping through gag after gag as if its creative and smart visuals would tire the eyes. The movie builds upon itself unceasingly, aware of its nature as what is essentially a feature- length commercial for Lego and blasting through that bar in a burst of color and wit. It will bring parents delighted relief, children unbridled joy at watching their imaginations interpreted and expanded onto the big screen. It makes regular use of the far- reaching trademarks of its brand for good and consistent reason. And wouldn't you know, there lies a touch of heart within its blocky exterior. It's better than Wreck-It Ralph; it's lighter on its feet than Toy Story. Everything is indeed quite Awesome. You will see what I mean.
The film is a majestic hybrid of two distinct comic presences: the directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller had previously churned out the manic Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, while co-director Chris McKay is known for the animated sketch comedy show Robot Chicken. Assemblies of different presences helming a single project have oft been the cause of a film's shortcomings, as voices struggle to meld harmoniously while making themselves heard over the others' rabble. Judging from the way this movie glides through the entirety of its running time, the three could be an a cappella group.
The story sets its sights on one particular character in its collection: a construction worker named Emmet (Chris Pratt), who is so unremarkable that a wizard named Vitruvius (Morgan Freeman) prophesied that he would one day become the Special and save all of Legokind from the clutches of Lord Business (Will Ferrell) and his superweapon, the Kragle. This is to be accomplished by obtaining the Piece of Resistance through a quest that spans so many different Lego worlds and setpieces it would make children's overclocked imaginations whirl. Stop me if all this sounds a little like one of those adventures you would have with your Lego set, giving things fantastical names and generating countless scenarios through a process transcending convenience.
I'm getting ahead of myself. You see, Lord Business has seized control of the world and monotonized and streamlined the lives of his adoring citizens without their noticing his despotic presence all about their cities, from their strictly unvarying 9 to 5 (each person comes with an instruction manual on How To Live Your Life) to the absurdly overcharged coffee. Out of all the children's movies to have nailed the social commentary on commercialism (and conformity) so expertly, it's one that indulges in it under the table. The snag is that it works; Hollywood could take notes from this, "the best way to sell is to make a good product."
To probe further is to get in too deep, and really, I've revealed all the necessities. The Special is to be aided in his quest by a legion of Master Builders, some of whom are a spunky female fighter named Wyldstyle (Elizabeth Banks), a magical hybrid animal named UniKitty (Alison Brie), a 1980s space astronaut referred to as "1980s space guy" (Charlie Day), Superman (Channing Tatum), MetalBeard the pirate (Nick Offerman), and Batman (Will Arnett). Batman steals pretty much every scene he is in, which is faint praise in this case considering that this movie is a continuous frenzy of characters stealing scenes from everyone else.
This also goes for Business's top henchman, a two-faced cop that's played by Liam Neeson with an Irish snarl that's impossible not to appreciate. Apart from the accent, his particular feature is- oh, I've already said.
What haven't I said already. The animation is damn impressive, as everything on-screen is convincingly modeled after Lego pieces – to the point that it never lets out where the CGI ends and where traditional hand-based animation, if employed, starts. There must have been parts involving actual Lego pieces crafted by hand; the attention to detail is too great, and the movie is too meticulous. At any rate, it makes for action sequences that leave you breathless from absurd momentum. There are parts that resemble the segments in those commercials where children construct Lego models through jacked frame rates. The hands are absent, but the tempo remains.
If you are seeing this with children, God be with you. I am writing this a week after having seen it in a packed theater of young and old, and I am still vibrating from the residual energy the movie has left me with. It is an enduring experience. I feel as if I have taken a glimpse into the future of merchandising cinema. And I have no complaints.