Migration is something different for Illumination. After a run of movies seemingly designed solely to print money — including its eternally lucrative Minions franchise, and last year’s Super Mario Bros. Movie — the animation studio has made their first wholly original film in seven years: one pitched as purely filmmaker-driven.
But that feels only partly true. Migration certainly opens boldly, with a prologue depicted in luscious traditional 2D animation, reflecting the background of French director Benjamin Renner; it almost feels a shame, then, that we revert to Illumination’s CGI house style, to tell this story of a family of ducks who Learn Things. Which is not to say there isn’t artistry or talent here (a flying sequence in sun-dappled clouds, and a lovely rendering of an Oz-like New York emerging through fog, are especially impressive). But perhaps this studio is too behemothian to impose anything singular; what we actually get is a fairly sweet, simple, straightforward kids’ film, undemanding but under-baked.
The script, by Mike White, has few of the sharp edges from White’s work on The White Lotus. (There is, alas, no, “These gays, they’re trying to murder me,” equivalent here.) For the most part, it all feels rather familiar: there’s a clear nod to the heritage of family American comedies like National Lampoon’s Vacation (note low-hanging jokes about stopping to have a wee on a long car journey, or the bird equivalent thereof). Some elements bear an unfortunate and inferior resemblance to fellow feathered animated efforts, from The Boy And The Heron to Chicken Run: Dawn Of The Nugget.
It’s all just fine. No doubt it will hoover up all the cash it expects to.
It’s enlivened by some fun voice turns. Kumail Nanjiani and Elizabeth Banks are reliably solid as Daddy duck and Mummy duck respectively. David Mitchell plays against type as a yoga-instructing duck named Googoo. Danny DeVito’s Uncle Dan instantly elevates every scene he’s in. Adorable newcomer Tresi Gazal, as tiny chick Gwen, nearly runs away with the entire film.
The villain of the piece, on the other hand — named simply ‘The Chef’ (Jason Marin) — is disappointing: a largely mute, grunting, muscular Salt Bae-type, he is afforded some goofily exaggerated character design, but not much in the way of personality or understandable motivations, pursuing the ducks — via helicopter! — with such bloodthirsty frenzy that even children will find him a bit much. (Do they not have meat shops in New York?)
It’s all just fine. No doubt it will hoover up all the cash it expects to. But Migration’s tethering to now-well-established studio strictures — it ends with all the characters in a dance sequence for no reason, a finale trope that seems to be company policy — leaves it feeling less original than it should be.