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If there's one movie that embodies the chaos and excitement of having your whole world shifted upside down, it’s Buddy (1997). Directed by Caroline Thompson, this film hurls you into a whirlwind of events based on a true story, wrapping you in a narrative that starts in the heart of the 1920s New York society. Meet Trudy Lintz, played by the talented Renée Russo, an eccentric animal-loving socialite who decided to adopt a gorilla. Yes, read that again—a gorilla—for her merry collection of pets. Forget troubled teenagers or mischievous dogs, Trudy chooses to adopt Buddy, a young gorilla, much to the fascination and bewilderment of her high-class peers.
Now, who wouldn't love to see how this unconventional pair navigates the snobbish upper crust? It's a movie that locks you in with its comedy and endearing moments, escaping any stuffy norms about appropriate pets and societal boundaries. The film manages to weave together a tapestry of lush period costumes and charming New York backdrops while throwing in a story that looks like pure chaos when presented on paper but turns out warmly engaging on the silver screen.
What makes Buddy worth re-watching or acknowledging in 2023? The adoption journey of Buddy by Trudy Lintz juggles themes that resonate well beyond its era. It's a family-friendly tale that offers an alternative to the glum and overly politicized narratives typically rolling out of Hollywood. If you’re tired of being force-fed moral superiority or gritty-just-to-be-gritty films, this is your clean break.
Why even bother with Buddy, some might ask? Isn't it just another kid-friendly romp through life's obstacles? For anyone who's ever considered adopting a pet, caring about family, or navigating societal hurdles, this movie ticks all the boxes. It's a value-driven exploration without beating you over the head with an agenda. Where else will you see the repercussions of assimilating a wild animal into human society, deftly portraying light-hearted chaos without turning the gorilla into a man-size political metaphor?
Did someone say heart? When you see Buddy, you're greeted with more than a furry face; you engage with an entire spectrum of human emotions reflected off the glossy eyes of a gorilla puppet. The humor isn't leaning on slapstick gags; instead, it taps into what it means to belong, both for Buddy and for the humans learning to make him part of their family. Caroline Thompson's storytelling ensures there's enough intrigue to keep you watching, along with humor to keep you smirking, bridging it all with a healthy dose of sentimentality that never tires itself out.
Don't mistake Buddy for a mindless kids’ flick, though. A few scenes stand out not only for their visual flair but also because they provide thought-provoking moments of confrontation between wild instincts and the sanitized reality of human civilization. There’s this delicate tension maintained throughout the film that can serve as a gentle reminder that, sometimes, reality doesn’t have to shout at you to make a statement.
Why was Buddy seemingly missing from the cinematic radar for so long then? Perhaps it's because the film industry underestimated the audience's innate desire for good old-fashioned entertainment without a veil of sterility or underlying propaganda. This discrepancy indicates more why such films must be part of our cultural library than not. In an age where inclusivity often means excluding the traditional, Buddy serves up a fresh reminder that storytelling can exist purely for enjoyment without an ulterior motive.
The performance by Renée Russo is wonderful, a treat to watch for her ability to balance comedy with moments of pure frustration and delight. The supporting cast, including Robbie Coltrane and the wonder-inspiring teacher character Jim, portray their roles without exhausting clichés, lending a tangible charm to the narrative structure. Buddy's inclusion, enhanced through animatronics and puppetry, means there's no need for computerized cheating—it's authentic emotion and craft, period.
As the film winds around you with heart and laughter, think twice before dismissing it as a mere '90s throwback. What currents are electrifying or softening today's film landscapes? Are we looking past gems because they don't align with the narrative trends prevalent today? In these screen-divided times, do we need more Buddy stories echoing in theaters to rewarm the tired hearts of a conflicted audience?
Buddy tells us there’s still a haven within cinema where stories come to life without predatory agendas or divisive content. It flies under the radar screaming simplicity can indeed be profound. If Buddy was to release today, it'd easily ruffle the feathers of narrative conformists and film snobs alike who reject well-wrapped sincerity for anything else. Who knew a gorilla could humanize storytelling so efficiently? Buddy makes you see it, and outrageously, some haven't yet.