Dr. Seuss' The Lorax (2012)

How can plastic be both good and evil at the same time? That's the first of many items about "Dr. Seuss' The Lorax" that had me pulling my hair out. Despite a wondrous color palate, zippy energy and the kind of star-studded vocal work we've now come to expect from our animated features, "The Lorax" suffers miserably from its need to pound us into its plastic ground with an environmentalist message so heavy-handed that even fans of "An Inconvenient Truth" might give a second thought to swinging an axe in a forest just to vent frustration. It's good for children's films to have a moral, but this film veers past a moral toward indoctrination; it's Dr. Seuss by way of Leni Riefenstahl.

The title character of "The Lorax" is adorable, but you'll only see him in a few scenes. The real story is that of the town of Thneedville, created and later driven to ruin by a mysterious man called the Once-ler (voiced by Ed Helms). In a move of horrible selfishness, the Once-ler used indigenous Truffala trees to manufacture his "thneeds," a multi-functional piece of clothing and kindred spirit to the Snuggie. The decision is pure capitalistic opportunity and blatant environmental hostility, and only after the last Truffala tree has been clear-cut does the Once-ler realize he's made a boo-boo.

All of this is back story. In the present, the residents of Thneedville live in a world of pure plastic. Oh, they have trees, but they're inorganic, plastic, and powered by many, many batteries. To offset the carbon footprint, motor vehicles appear to have fewer wheels. And a man named O'Hare (Rob Riggle) is well aware that the lack of oxygen from living plants and trees has created a demand market for fresh air, which he bottles and sells.

Residents of  Thneedville like the young Ted (Zac Effron) are blissfully unaware of their miserable eco-terrorist existence until the lovely Audrey (Taylor Swift) informs him of these things called trees that once existed. She tells Ted that she'd marry a guy who could produce a real, live tree and Ted needs no further motivation. Acting on mysterious advice from his spritely grandmother (voiced by Betty White, who naturally steals the film), Ted finds himself outside of the permitted town limits searching for the man who would be the Once-ler.

So where does that Lorax guy fit in? He's like God's hairball if God was a cat, descending to the ground in a tractor beam of light as the conscience and protector of the forest who is clearly saddened by his lack of success at said protecting. But he's a cuddly orange sucker with a shocking yellow mustache, and with the voice of Danny DeVito, he's sure to make the little ones head for the mall after viewing the film to purchase their own plush Loraxes in what will probably be actual size. Let's forget, for now, how wildly successful this movie will be at generating tie-in revenue and the consumption of unnecessary and wasteful goods. It's supposed to be a film that opposes that...

As mentioned previously, "Dr. Seuss' The Lorax" benefits from lots of kid-friendly action sequences and an engaging vocal cast. And I thought the animation itself was of very high quality and impressively managed. But I found myself so shocked by the deep muck of political bandying going on that most of "The Lorax"'s strengths were negated. Worst of all was a song-and-dance number in which the young Once-ler bounces to a hip hop beat while tossing off lyrics about how his capitalistic ways have made him evil. Was this Gordon Gecko-flavored rap composed from unused lines of dialogue from "Wall Street"?

Now before anyone accuses me of getting "too Republican," I'm not complaining about the message so much as the fact that it's being delivered in such a manner to such an audience. In truth, the film is riddled with hypocracies. While its ever-concerned with its message of "cutting trees are bad," it's wondrous, candy-colored depiction of Thneedville gives kids a magical world to fall in love with, one that must somewhere have a landfill overflowing with alkaline batteries that cannot biodegrade. Images of plastic bottles that store nothing but air are everywhere, and electricity powers everything. Woe to any Amish Thneedvillians! And in what might be a first, the film acts as cross promotion for Mazda, prominently featuring animated versions of their new hybrid SUVs.

There will be some who will argue with me that Thneedville is exactly what happens as a result of capitalistic greed and environmental negligence, and I get that. But if I'm a kid, the only place that visually reflects the damage inflicted by these decisions is the area outside of the town's "Truman Show"-like walls, where the palate is grey and the land barren, jagged tree stumps dotting the landscape as a reminder of the Once-ler's greed. That's depressing. But Thneedville? What kid will think anything less than "man, I'd love to live there!"?

The saddest thing about "Dr. Seuss' The Lorax" is that it's next to impossible to discuss it without suggesting one political side of the aisle or another, and that's a damn shame for a movie made for kids. Now I'm not sure that my own children truly understood how heavy-handed the film's message was as they were walking out of the theatre, but when my 6-year-old son threw his nearly-empty popcorn bucket to the ground during the closing credits for some teenaged AMC employee to later clean up, I'd like to think of it as a consumer's act of defiance.

1.5 out of 4