Simply remarkable; a fascinating and highly unique experience feeding off of familiar material, all of which combines into something really worthwhile.

Rating: 7/10 (3 June 2011)

Who Framed Roger Rabbit plays like a high scoring Masters thesis on the various aspects of the film noir genre via an edition of a Beano comic; a placing together of two wildly differing texts inside of a concentrated experiment tank beside lit ACME dynamite, the resultant explosion's remnants being what it is that splatters all over our film screens forming what is a dizzy array of colours and wonder which grabs us from the beginning and never lets up. American director Robert Zemeckis' 1988 film is a deliriously enjoyable noir in its most extremest of forms; a hardened example of cross pollination, further still feeding off of decades of inspiration and homage, just cascading together into something else totally out of the ordinary alá Sin City or Blade Runner, as decidedly postmodern generic fabrications thrust together. Despite the hallmarks of creativity, the film is never preoccupied with its hook; going on to formulate an impressive and really quite affecting character study in amidst a narrative that is challenging; never overbearing and never thinks of its audience as idiots.
The film follows a lowly, dishevelled private investigator named Eddie Valiant (Hoskins); a man living off of the reputation he has in solving mysteries that he did so effectively in the days during which his now deceased brother was still alive and working with him. The film wastes little time in constructing Valiant as the embittered lead he is, the hitching of unpaid rides on the rear carts of trams to get around town and the swigging of hard alcohol straight out of the bottle at whatever chance he gets when alone the norm; whereas down at a local bar, a one-time relationship with a waitress that might have gone somewhere, but has now mutated into that of quick acquaintances, the closest he has to a friend. By night, we see him attend an upmarket club that is putting on a comedy double act – where everyone else sees the funny side, Valiant is too indebted to his cynicism to even break a smile.
Valiant is a living embodiment of a generic convention if ever there was one, but played with the sorts of creativity and wonder operating around him so much so that we enjoy seeing this familiarised core archetype at the centre of such a premise. He despises those with whom he exists; despises them for that one of them was involved in the death of that aforementioned brother, and the grudge has stuck. Those of whom he exists with are "toons"; cartoon characters literally walking, talking and existing with the humans within this world of 1947 Los Angeles - a breaking of a reality so shocking, that the film distills how we react through that of its lead when Valiant himself exclaims upon the first instance of that 'wall' being broken.
'Toons seem bound to serving that of the humans to some degree, be it in the form of waiting on tables; acting as doormen; barmen or even, in the case of Disney's famous elephant lead Dumbo, an acting talent for a major film studio - one wonders what role it might be possible for Dumbo to play besides that of Dumbo. Director Zemeckis gets all the fun of the fair out of these ideas, accommodating various 'toons to professions that suit their characteristics, in that an exceptionally large gorilla is a doorman; an octopus is able to work several orders at once behind the bar and animated penguins make for waddling waiters serving customers.
In the grandest of noir traditions, corruption where there really ought not be any, is afoot; Christopher Lloyd's local judicial chief, aptly named Doom, and his team of 'toon weasel assistants form the film's source of conflict. Doom's arrival, clad all in black and with a walking stick plus-limp creating a false sense of harmlessness, is via a canted angle as Valiant peers upwards at him; an apparent oneupmanship already underway as Doom incorrectly entrusts to have caught Valiant in an act. Doom and his team are scouring the city for the titular Roger Rabbit following the belief he murdered a film producer. His 'toon wife Jessica, uniquely sporting human-like characteristics away from those of an anthropomorphic nature, was involved with this producer but it is a crime Roger maintains he did not commit. In crying out to Valiant for help, in turn offering him the chance to put to bed his 'toon-hating ways and going back on a case he'd only previously had taken with his brother whose death still resonates, the fun that is Who Framed Roger Rabbit kicks off.
Where a lot of noir's tone is born out of post-war disillusionment, the two very different inflections of Valiant and Roger clash head-on in a physical sense when the lead finds himself working with him, a raucous 'toon whom cannot help but exclaim loudly and proudly at whatever chance he gets, making for great humour when in danger, and yet stands in stark binary opposition to that of Valiant's more downcast stature eventually making for excellent comedy and drama. Zemeckis deals with everything wonderfully well, using such a concept to act as a backdrop to intelligent film-making and utilising such a notion to formulate wondrous comedy in what is a thoroughly enjoyable and surprisingly smart comedy; a film that rocks along without letting up for a second. From its audacious opening to its familiar finale of good vs. evil fighting one on one, only with a total overhaul of creativity and mirth via the dizzy array of ideas the screenwriters are permitted to work with given the setting, the film is at once wholly rich in detail between animation and live-action; funny for people of most ages; arrives with a real sense of threat and danger maintaining drama and generally instills a good feeling.