I tend to have quite a bit to say when it comes to Pixar Animation and what I, as well as countless others, consider to be an immense decline in quality as time has progressed. However, I also am the first to acknowledge when they have achieved something special, which is indeed the case for Elio, in which we find the world-renowned studio momentarily returning to its roots and remembering the precise qualities that made them the very definition of quality and acclaim when they first emerged with their revolutionary works nearly forty years ago. Their latest effort is one of their best in years, with Elio being a firm reminder of where Pixar came from, both conceptually and in terms of the effort they put into their stories. The film follows the titular character, an eleven-year-old who is fascinated by the possibility of life on other planets, to the point where he actively advocates to be the victim of alien abduction. When his dream eventually comes true, he discovers worlds far beyond his comprehension, but also fails to take note of the inherent dangers that come with such endeavours. A very charming film, and one that is as narratively complex as it is visually striking, Elio is a terrific film – and its not surprising that it was the brainchild of Adrian Molina (the primary creative force) and Domee Shi, who are responsible for the two best Pixar films of the last decade, having directed Coco and Turning Red respectively. Here they are joined by first-time director Madeline Sharafian to tell this story, crafting a film that draws on all of their talents in tandem and allows them to find the space and energy to create a truly unforgettable, engaging work that may not be entirely immune to criticism, but at the very least sets out to do something original, becoming a film that makes it very clear that beneath the surface, there are still traces of the studio in its heyday, and that they are willing to put in the work where necessary, the results speaking for themselves as we can proudly proclaim Elio to be one of the more effective works of mainstream studio animation to emerge in quite some time.

One of the trademarks of Pixar and their approach to creating films is to rarely seek outside voices when it comes to developing projects and selecting directors, but rather to draw from the in-house staff. It has become increasingly rare to find a director who has not worked for the studio in some capacity already, and considering the amount of work that goes into the creation of these films, multiple directors are often enlisted, particularly when working with younger and slightly less-experienced filmmakers. The benefit of this is not only an additional set of hands that help guide the story, but also a new range of perspectives, each director bringing their unique vision to the proceedings. Here we have a trio of directors who each have forged very unique identities for themselves – their heritage brings such a unique perspective, as does their fascination with certain subjects, all of which are seamlessly woven into this narrative, which is built around a few very simple concepts. The primary theme that drives this film forward is that of identity – the protagonist is a young boy who has been thrown into a world he simply does not understand, forced to navigate certain challenges that would be daunting for any individual, let alone someone who has lost both of his parents, and who is essentially a social pariah based on his peculiar interests. It is certainly not one of Pixar’s more high-concept films, in terms of being more about a grounded subject rather than the supposedly eccentric charms of taking static or abstract concepts and infusing them with sentience. This cannot be reduced to simply “what if aliens had feelings” (the typical and oft-mocked model that many consider to be the extent to which the studio pitches their ideas), since it is far more engaging, and doesn’t trivialise the subject matter just for the sake of coming across as unique. Instead, it’s a poignant exploration of family, childhood and loneliness, common subjects that we find resonate a lot more with us as time progresses and we begin to see the layers of commentary that define such a story.

Something that has been quite consistent when it comes to Pixar films is their penchant for choosing the right actors to bring life to their characters – even when the quality is not particularly strong, the work done by the actors is at least somewhat enough to salvage even the most dismal of stories, elevating them to be at least somewhat watchable. There has been a gradual move away from star-studded casts, with attention being redirected to choosing people who were right for the roles as they were written, rather than having them created for them. The core duo of Elio are Yonas Kibreab, as the titular protagonist, and Zoe Saldaña as his long-suffering aunt who is doing her best to raise him. They are the beating heart of the film, and everything successful about this story is mostly due to their empathy and deep compassion that they bring to roles that would have been far less effective had they been played by just about any other actor. The core on which this film is built is the relationship between these two characters, so credit does have to go to the actors for infusing the entire film with such complexity. Supporting parts are occupied by a range of mildly recognisable actors, like Jameela Jamil, Matthias Schweighöfer, Brad Garrett (whose iconic voice is very well-used) and a bevy of other fantastic performers that may not be immediately recognisable, but still prove to be valuable contributors to a film in which the characters are the primary vessel for the underlying message. Most of these characters are quite subdued and restrained, which gives Elio a slightly more complex atmosphere, relying less on the eccentricity of the performances and more on what their characters represent, both individually and in conjunction with one another, a unique approach that should have been more extensively utilised.

Then there are the emotions – a term that was previously used as a signal for the brilliance of Pixar, but has come to develop an almost derogatory meaning, particularly since so many of their films have relied too heavily on the act of forcing the viewer to feel certain emotions, rather than allowing them to emerge organically. It seems like every new film they produce attempts to up the ante when it comes to shoehorning an emotional connection between the audience and the story, and while this is sometimes effective, for the most part it proves to be woefully uninformed and presumptuous in a lot of instances. Mercifully, Elio is one of the better uses of these ideas – it’s certainly not perfect, and there are a few moments where it does seem to be veering towards the overwrought, but it is mostly a very effective work. This is primarily a result of the film having a more balanced perspective in terms of its themes – it isn’t only meaningful when it discusses family (since anyone can feel the tug of the heartstrings when such a subject is discussed), but also in the quieter moments, such as the first encounter between the protagonist and the technology that would eventually go on to fascinate him, or the moment in which the heroes attempt to save the day, and find themselves rallied by a chorus of overlapping voices from several different countries that come together to help them solve a potentially world-ending crisis. Elio is not a film that wants to force us to feel anything, and chooses to allow its ideas to flourish naturally, leading to stellar results that are certainly far more impactful than the more traditional attempts to stir a reaction, making a striking difference in the process.

It is important to not be too effusive with the praise we give towards Elio, which is a film that has been plagued with a lot of controversy as a result of the removal of the majority of the queer themes (under the belief that audiences may not find a film in which there are references to a character who may not quite fit into the ideal heteronormative standards), which remain only as the slightest whisper of subtext, a wildly strange and inappropriate decision that has never made any sense, and should not be something that a major studio is still doing by this point. However, considering their middling output in recent years, it is still important to acknowledge the good work that was done here – firstly, its the rare instance of a Pixar film that is wholeheartedly original, not being a sequel or reworking of an existing work, and instead something that emerges from the imagination of its very diverse but nonetheless consistently creative and daring trio of directors, each one of them bringing something new to the narrative and allowing their collective perspectives to form the foundation for a truly delightful, charming little film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but still approaches its core themes with a degree of candour and a willingness to be open about its themes, which turns out to be a very effective and meaningful approach that allows Elio to be the best film Pixar has made in quite some time, and hopefully an indicator that it is willing to embrace original stories yet again, a long overdue return to form for a studio that has been resting on its laurels for simply far too long.