ElMaruecan82
"Tintin and the Temple of the Sun" is a movie I can't review without drowning myself in an ocean of sentimentality. Whatever rating I gave, no matter how objective my words would sound, it will never capture the profound feelings the film inspires me, something hard to express because extremely rooted in the inner depths of my childhood. And it doesn't get easier with age.I remember I was between 4 and 5 when my father brought me, as he used to do, a VHS from the local store. Probably convinced that I'm more attracted to Disney-like cartoons, he told me it was "Tintin", something I would probably dislike. My father grew up with the same comic-books than I but was never really fond of Tintin, too serious, too long, too literary, and not as fun and exciting as Asterix, Lucky Luke and Marvel Comics. I saw the film, it interested me, it made me laugh, it scared me, it grabbed me, I'm not sure I loved it the first time, but at the age of 7, the VHS was still in my collection and I could recite it by heart.I think the secret of the film's appeal had probably something to do with its relative seriousness. I was watching an animated film that looked like a real-life film, and was as thrilling as an adult-movie. The opening that presented the curse of the 7 explorers who found the mummy, the hideous but nightmare-inducing sight of Rascar Capac with the whole voice-over narration and the ominous music, my heart was hooked. By the way, I was less scared by the mummy than the costumes during the Carnival sequence, my phobia of clowns made me hide every time it started. Believe me, some of them are very scary, just the slightest thought of them makes me shiver.Or maybe what I most loved was the film's undeniable escapist value, "Prisoner of the Sun" on which the album was adapted, with a shortcut taken on "The 7 Crystal Balls", is, if not the greatest, the most eclectic adventure of Tintin, multiplying the natural settings, from the mountain that Tintin climbs to save Milou … sorry, Snowy and using the condor as a parachute, to the menacing jungle where they exterminate the crocodiles, and in-between, the impressive avalanche in the cold summits. If there ever is one movie that truly captures the meaning of 'adventure', it's this one. A raid to Peru, an Inca curse, supernatural elements mixing with natural dangers, you'd tell me that Spielberg never had Tintin in mind while conceiving Indiana Jones, I wouldn't believe you.And what makes the whole adventurous mood even more appealing is that it's all motivated by friendship and the desire to save Professor Calculus. Tintin, as usual, indirectly provides a great lesson of courage, friendship and humanism. And this is how, as a kid, this little-known movie (outside the French-speaking area, I guess…) made me familiar with condors, Incas, eclipses. This is how, as a kid, I was inspired by Tintin's courage, I laughed at the goofy Thomson's clumsiness and Haddock's anger (especially when he's mocked by the clapping monkeys) and was touched by the brave little Zorrino, though smartly wondering why a boy would have a female voice.Thrills, seriousness, escapism, appealing characters … all contribute to the film's entertaining value. But still, what printed the film with magical letters in my heart was the music. The score of "The Temple of the Sun" was and still is one my favorite ever, and I implore you to listen to it even without watching the film, it is so great that I'm sure if the film was American, it would have earned it an Oscar nomination, not that it matter though, but I wish it was more famous. The score, especially the trumpets and violins part, always pumped my heart with an insatiable thirst for adventure, it has the inspirational quality of a John Williams' music with something borrowed from Maurice Jarre.And the musical magnitude doesn't end with the score but also with the beautiful songs sung by Zorrino, songs that are fittingly written by the legendary Brel, Belgium's greatest artist wrote songs for Belgium's greatest character. And till now, Zorrino's song sounds like a hymn to my lost childhood. Till now, I have goose bumps whenever I hear it, because it reminds me of these years when my father was my age, when I was still sensitive to the magic of little things. The film is so emotionally loaded for me that it doesn't matter how adult I am, it will forever awaken my inner child.And my story with the film didn't stop with the VHS, my father accidentally taped a 1990 World Cup football game on it, and I looked for the film for five years. Meanwhile I read the comic-book, I got more interested in the written adventures, and it wasn't until 13 that I could finally see the film again. I was mature enough to find some flaws; the way the characters were drawn that didn't match the background obviously painted to imitate a sort of Disney style. Of course, I understood the animators took some liberties with the story, they added a sort of romantic subplot, the Thompsons as comic reliefs, of course, but nevertheless, the magic was still intact.I just hope kids today can still be affected by the charming simplicity of Tintin, a hero in the noblest meaning of the word with his bravery and humanism as only superpowers. I know for my part, I will forever cherish this film. I'm sure that in my deathbed, if I was recollecting the magic of my childhood memories, the music will resonate in my mind, while I will sing in myself, "why should I go now", just like Zorrino.
johnnyboyz
For all that's at stake; the great danger particular characters therein come to find themselves, as well as the sorts of great distances they travel throughout, Tintin and the Temple of the Sun, an all-animated 1969 adventure film, is excruciatingly bland. At least, I would have settled for bland; the film does have this nasty undercurrent of hatred and ill-thought simmering beneath its surface, epitomised by one of the supporting acts to the titular Tintin and his rather brash characteristics. Primarily, it is a film about how savage and how alien specific ethnicities are, and how they need a white Caucasian male to enter their domain and put them through a process of 'civilisification'. The film, a short and breezy piece clocking in at just over an hour although feeling thrice that, is a dull; uninvolved and somewhat primitive attempt, an adventure film without the sense of adventure, indeed the sense of anything; a film which builds to what it perceives to be some sort of harrowing finale, but can only come across as distastefully xenophobic; a film that is uncourteous and brash without any right to be, a children's film that is repetitive, mean-spirited and really, truthfully terrible.The film begins with its bluntest moment of exposition, an individual quite literally walking onto a stage, doubling for a press conference, in which he reveals to us the unfortunate recent history more broadly linked to that of a Peruvian Inca God's tomb. Specifically, those European explorers whom only a few weeks ago raided it and were met with a terrible curse, not death like it perhaps ought to have been, but of a sort that comatosed them. Later, the Philippe Ogouz voiced eponymous hero of the hour, Tintin, that fleet footed; athletic and all round friendly Belgian, although you wouldn't know any of that here without having previously read or seen one of his adventures, is dwelling at home with some of his friends whilst about to host a rendez-vous with one of the explorers yet to be struck down by the curse. The explorer doesn't make it, and is jinxed en-route. Terror additionally strikes when, on account of a confusing blend of unprecedented levels of weather seemingly working in tandem with a pair of dastardly crooks (why would the Inca Gods need both - wouldn't you just need to use one or the other if you actually were/weren't an all powerful being?) infiltrate Tintin's grounds; create a distraction and swipe Tintin's long-standing ally Professor Calculus. Enraged, and with his faithful yet ultimately superfluous pet dog Snowy, as well as the drink-obsessed; loud mouthed; unshaven Captain Haddock (Bertrand), Tintin sets off on a quest to get Calculus back - and Lord, wouldn't you know it, but it isn't long before they realise they've got to dart off to Peru.Principally, the film fails on two very basic levels; that of narrative and character, with a further level of deficiency more inclined to issues of representation depressingly propping it up. Nobody learns or discovers anything throughout the course of the film apart from one of the Inca high priests and the truths of his supposedly blood-thirsty ways, an epiphany brought about by humble Westerners. There is a ton of grotesquely misjudged content involving the ever-increasingly irritating Captain Haddock character, whose raging jingoism aimed at the Peruvians (of whom are depicted as simple, backward people engaging in fiestas and localised customs we are invited to gawp at rather than understand) get gradually and gradually more distressing as the film wears on. His unparallelled hatred of his South American surroundings; its people, culture and landscape included, is initially epitomised in his lack of being able to function on a 'proper' wavelength with that of the location's many llamas and their temperamental attitudes. Their clashing often results in the animals spitting into Haddock's face; but where there is an opportunity to establish Haddock as the grizzled man he is, ignorant and pig-headed to his foreign surroundings, before having him see the error of his ways, the film can only have the audacity to feed of this ignorance before including a scene nearer the end in which he gets his revenge on the beast by spitting back into one of their faces prior to departure: nothing has been learnt, and the coming to understand a foreign culture and the attitudes one should evoke in relation to it has been sideswiped for bodily excretial orientated humour.Any dramatic content which threatens to rear up prior to this is immediately undercut by that of the presence of two characters: The Thompson Twins; characters whose presence I was never sure as to what the point was. They appeared often as rivals to Tintin, which is a tract that may have worked well; only occasionally, and begrudgingly, teaming up with Tintin and his troupé. Perhaps their being there was motivated not by rescue but by something else – they might have acted as good foils for Tinin's crew, but are instead two characters useless to proceedings and do their best to make the comedic element to the film as painful as possible. The villains, that of the Inca people, are stock bad guys of a non-white variety crudely inserted into the piece; the film punishing the one Peruvian, whom it tries to portray as an ally to Tintin, by victimising them and by rendering their contribution to the task as a guide whom constantly needs aiding in spite of being in his own surroundings. The film, surprisingly and depressingly so, is an ill-judged and badly played production; a film with little in the way of life, verve or competency and is best left alone.
