The Iron Giant review

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Disney is getting fierce competition in the animated feature department these days. In 1998, that established purveyor of classic cartoons Warner Bros gave us the Arthurian mish-mash of Quest For Camelot, and DreamWorks stepped into the arena with The Prince Of Egypt. But The House Of Mouse is now swinging lithely through the trees with the Um Bongo kinetics and splendid hi-tech animation of Tarzan. So what's next from the opposition? Well, Warner Bros has ostensibly taken us back to basics with The Iron Giant, a glorious fable from The Simpsons and King Of The Hill graduate Brad Bird.

During the '60s, Ted Hughes created The Iron Man, a lyrical fantasy about life and death, to tell his children after the suicide of their mother, angsty poet Sylvia Plath. Bird has taken the story of a boy and his metal behemoth and recreated it in small-town '50s America. Rather than being a sacrilegious Americanisation of a British fave, the transition is shrewd, tapping the rich vein of myths and memories from its post-war US setting.

Without Disney's formula and with classic animation techniques, The Iron Giant successfully recreates The Iron Man in '50s America as the story of a lonely boy's dreams coming true. Film-brat knowingness, action, satire, sentiment, laughs: they're all here.

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