Turning Red | Review
Set in Toronto in 2002, Turning Red stars Meilin “Mei” Lee (voiced by newcomer Rosalie Chiang), an obnoxious 13-year-old Chinese Canadian girl who’s both carefree and dutiful. When she’s not excelling in class or obsessing over the fictional boy band 4*Town with her friends, she’s helping her strict and overprotective mother, Ming (Sandra Oh), staff and take care of their family’s temple. Then, one day, Mei suddenly turns into a giant red panda, which she later learns is a family gift (or in Mei’s view, a curse) passed onto each female family member, starting with her great ancestor, Sun Yee. The ability to transform into a red panda was a defense mechanism, but Mei finds it to be a huge inconvenience (she turns into a red panda anytime she’s in a state of high emotion, which can be quite often for a teenager). It doesn’t take long to realize Turning Red is a clever metaphor for puberty and, more specifically, menstruation, a topic that’s rarely, if ever, discussed in animated children’s films. The ability to cover such a taboo topic has everything to do with the voices behind the scenes.
Mei turns into a big red panda
Turning Red has many firsts for Pixar: it’s the studio’s first film directed solely by a woman (Domee Shi), first film directed by a woman of color, first film completely written by women (Shi and playwright Julia Cho), first film with an all-woman creative leadership team, and first film starring an Asian girl. All of these have taken a shamefully long time (Pixar is 27 years old!), and they’re the reasons that make the film stand out among Pixar’s deep filmography. Turning Red is a film that could only have been made by Domee Shi.
This is the 25th feature from the animation giant Pixar, and, to no surprise, it’s been released to near-universal acclaim from critics and general audiences alike. Unfortunately, some controversy rained on the film’s parade, most notably regarding CinemaBlend’s Sean O’Connell’s negative review and subsequent tweets, in which he criticized the film for being too “limiting in its scope,” that it felt like “it was made for [director/writer] Domee Shi’s friends and immediate family members,” and complained about his inability to relate to the film’s lead character, an Asian Canadian teenager.
Abby (Hyein Park), Priya (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan), Mei (Rosalie Chiang), and Miriam (Ava Morse)
Shi is no stranger to this kind of cultural backlash (Bao, the animated short she won an Oscar for, had a scene that was also misunderstood and made fun of by many white people). As ignorant as O’Connell’s take on the film was—and to be clear, it was super ignorant and reeked of white male privilege—he’s right that the film told a super specific story. After all, the film was inspired by Shi’s own experiences growing up and enduring puberty as a Chinese Canadian girl in Toronto. But why does this specificity have to be a bad thing? I loved The Dark Knight but I don’t relate at all to its billionaire, crime-fighting, bat-dressing lead.
Film Twitter recently brought to my attention a review of Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain from the late great film critic, Roger Ebert, in which he wrote “Strange but true: The more specific a film is, the more universal, because the more it understands individual characters, the more it applies to everyone.” And in his review of Midnight in Paris, Ebert wrote “Either you connect with it or not. I'm wearying of movies that are for ‘everybody’ — which means, nobody in particular.” Turning Red’s gender, age, cultural, and personal specificity is what makes the film a rich experience that can still have universal appeal. Turning Red’s message about being true to yourself even if its at odds with what your family expects of you may be relatable to many queer audiences. In fact, I saw myself reflected in some parts of the film, despite not being a Chinese Canadian teenage girl.
Ming (Sandra Oh) and Mei Lee (Rosalie Chiang)
I saw my father in Mei’s father, Jin (Orion Lee), who can be seen early in the film cooking a meal for the family instead of the stereotypical depiction of the mother doing it (my dad is the one who taught my mom how to cook). I saw myself in Mei when her love for her friends made her happier than her love for her family—something I’ve always felt shame for. I saw my family in Mei’s family, one that will come together despite our differences and past grievances. One of the themes of Turning Red is that family is what matters most. While this isn’t applicable to everyone, it was relatable to me and my family. I saw Turning Red the weekend of my grandmother’s funeral, in which my mom gave a speech asking our extended family to reunite more often, not just for weddings and funerals, and to look past our differences, because family is the most important thing. I was also able to relate to the love Mei’s parents had for her, like my parents have for me. I’ve never been able to relate to the Asian American stereotype of cold parents who can’t express their love to their children. My parents and I say “I love you” to each other all the time! I’m glad Turning Red avoided this stereotype. While Ming is an overbearing mother, she’s far from a Tiger Mom, and she clearly expresses her love for Mei through both her actions and words.
But representation isn’t the be-all and end-all. And, admittedly, I found myself disappointed that I merely liked Turning Red, and didn’t love it like so many others did. And I think I know why. For better or for worse, Turning Red reaffirms Pixar’s new direction.
Members of 4*Town
When I think about some of the best Pixar films, the ones that were instant classics, they all had one thing in common—they’re written and/or directed by the same circle of filmmakers. Monsters, Inc. and Up were from Pete Docter (who also went on to write/direct Pixar’s other critically-acclaimed films, Inside Out and Soul); Finding Nemo and Wall-E were from Andrew Stanton; and The Incredibles and Ratatouille were from Brad Bird. Docter and Stanton have been with Pixar since its founding, having worked on the company’s first feature film, Toy Story. Bird was brought into the fold in the early 2000s after he released The Iron Giant. In addition to John Lasseter, the former Pixar CCO who also wrote/directed Toy Story, these three have been the most influential filmmakers at Pixar, defining it as the studio that produced high-quality and successful animated films on a consistent basis, for both children and adults.
Over the last decade, we’ve seen new directors helm their own films at Pixar—Mark Andrews and Brenda Chapman (Brave), Dan Scanlon (Monsters University & Onward), Peter Sohn (The Good Dinosaur), Brian Fee (Cars 3), Enrico Casarosa (Luca)—though few would classify these films as top-tier Pixar like the ones from Docter, Stanton, and Bird; the rare exceptions being Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3 and Coco) and Josh Cooley (Toy Story 4). Aside from Brenda Chapman, Peter Sohn, and now Domee Shi, all of these directors have been white cishet men.
Turning Red’s personal story, inspired by Shi’s own experiences, reaffirms the new direction Pixar has been heading in since 2020. Onward, last year’s Luca, and now Turning Red, are all deeply personal films from their respective directors. Dan Scanlon wrote Onward, about two brothers’ journey to temporarily reunited with their deceased father, inspired by the death of his own father when he and his older brother were young. Enrico Casarosa wrote Luca, about two best friends’ life-changing summer in Italy, inspired by his own childhood in Italy. This new approach to Pixar’s more recent releases, the focus on deeply personal stories told by fresh voices, is a good thing!
Pixar has also been notorious for its lengthy storytelling process, in which a film’s story is written, storyboarded, animated, re-written, re-storyboarded, re-animated, over and over again, until they’re finally ready for release. This often meant the final films were drastically different from their original inception. But it also seemed to be the secret to Pixar’s success. This wasn’t the practice used by Shi on Turning Red, however. “For me, I just want to go fast because my worst fear is to overthink and overdo and overpolish something until it loses all of its uniqueness,” Shi said about the storytelling process. I wouldn’t be surprised if Scanlon and Casarosa had the same experience working on Onward and Luca, respectively.
John Lasseter, the former CCO of both Pixar and Walt Disney Animation, was a key figure in both studios’ success (he wrote/directed the first three Pixar films, and led Disney’s new renaissance era, including Tangled, Wreck-It Ralph, Frozen, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, and Moana). Both Pixar and Walt Disney Animation had their own Brain Trusts (you can read about Pixar’s here, which originally included many names I’d previously mentioned, including Lasseter, Stanton, Doctor, and Unkrich, and you see Walt Disney Animation’s in action in the docuseries Into the Unknown: The Making of Frozen II). But ever since Lasseter resigned in 2017 (due to alleged sexual misconduct), Pete Docter has stepped up as Pixar’s new CCO, and I have a feeling, based on Shi’s interview, that he’s led the studio in a different way than Lasseter did, with less emphasis on Pixar’s infamously methodical approach to filmmaking. As beloved as they are, Pixar films have been criticized for being too “story by committee,” emotionally manipulative, or spending too much time explaining the “world” its films are set in. Recent films like Onward, Luca, and Turning Red largely avoided these issues.
I’ve rated all three films—Onward, Luca, and Turning Red—the same score, 3 out of 4. They’re good, not great, but enjoyable flicks that felt like they needed a few more drafts to their stories, which kept them from reaching the heights of peak Pixar. For instance, in both Luca and Turning Red, major issues are resolved too quickly after they’re introduced. (Minor spoiler alert for both films in the following sentence) For example, when the main characters in both films betrayed their friends, quite literally a few minutes later, they’re apologetic and back to being friends, but the journey getting to that point isn’t earned. What should be an emotional climax for the films becomes anti-climactic.
To many, the combination of new voices, personal stories, and the freedom to tell these stories without much interference from the creative leadership, represents an exciting new direction for Pixar that feels refreshing. Just take a look at the character designs and art directions of Luca and Turning Red, which are more cartoony and expressive than typical Pixar films, which leaned more towards photorealism. Turning Red felt like a perfectly three-dimensional anime with plenty of exaggerated expressions. All of these new developments are redefining what Pixar films can be. But, if you’re like me, and you miss the days of Pixar past, well, this change may take some getting used to.
Still, I respect Turning Red for the film that it is, even if it’s not the film I wanted it to be. This is the first Pixar film to depict uniquely immigrant family issues, like assimilation and filial piety, thanks to Domee Shi’s background. I loved the highly expressive anime-like designs, homages to anime films like The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and colorful pastels. I loved the three pop songs from 4*Town, which real-life artists Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell wrote (O’Connell also voices one of the band members). And I loved the score by Ludwig Göransson, the Oscar (Black Panther), Grammy (“This Is America”), and Emmy (The Mandalorian)-winning composer whom I’ve been a fan of since scoring my favorite sitcom Community. His music for Turning Red is a unique mix of genres and influences, from traditional Chinese sounds and instruments, like the dizi and guzheng, to Western orchestra, and New Jack Swing. There’s a moment in the final act when Göransson’s score combines with 4*Town’s “Nobody Like U” and Lee family’s Cantonese chants, and it’s amazing. Most impressive of all is the film’s bittersweet ending, which saw Mei and Ming saying goodbye to the relationship they once had, while still being in each other’s lives, deviating from Pixar’s typical happily-ever-after type conclusions.
