Susan Granger’s review of “The Good Dinosaur” (Disney/Pixar)
According to screenwriter Meg LeFauve, there was a near apocalypse 65 million years ago when an asteroid almost hit Earth. Almost is the key word, since the dinosaurs didn’t go extinct.
Somewhere in what looks like the prehistoric American West, beneath the Clawtooth Mountains, there’s a homesteading family of long-necked, green Apatosauruses, headed by Poppa (voiced by Jeffrey Wright) and Momma (voiced by Frances McDormand).
When a flash flood decimates their frontier farm, timid young Arlo (voiced by Raymond Ochoa) – who is not big and strong like his parents and siblings – is left on his own. Having been told that he must learn about self-sacrifice and courage, frightened Arlo befriends a grunting, barking, howling feral boy whom he names Spot.
Journeying together through the wilderness, dodging nasty raptors and hungry gang of pterodactyls, controlled by Thunderclap (voiced by Steve Zahn), they encounter a strange variety of exotic animal species, like a pink cobra with legs and a boar-sized winged insect, and a pet-collecting Styracosaurus (voiced by Peter Sohn) who turns out to an expert in camouflage.
Eventually, after sampling some hallucinogenic fruits, Arlo and Spot find themselves sitting around a campfire with friendly, buffalo-ranching T-Rexes, whose cowboy leader, Butch, has the distinctively gruff voice of Sam Elliott, talking about how fear must not be surrendered to or ignored.
While Pixar’s 16th animated feature could not be termed either original or a classic, borrowing elements from “The Lion King,” and “The Jungle Book,” it’s an amusing, anthropomorphic survivor story, helmed by Peter Sohn, whose resume includes artist/voice work on “The Incredibles,” “Up” and “Ratatouille.”
While the formulaic plot is derivative, what makes this animated film technologically distinctive are its awesomely photorealistic landscapes, filled with raging rivers and fluttering fireflies.
So, on the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “The Good Dinosaur” is a subversively sweet 6, recommended as an imaginative diversion for dinosaur-obsessed youngsters.
