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By now you probably already know the long-gestating story behind Brad Bird’s Ray Gunn. Despite having directed multiple animation classics re-energising the medium, The Iron Giant, The Incredibles and Ratatouille, Bird has been unable to get this passion project, a retro-futuristic 1900s, off the ground. Studio meddling and keen focus to realise his own singular vision created difficulties for Ray Gunn to even get made. But unwavering in his compromise, aside from vocal reluctance to shift from 2D to Skydance Animation’s 3D, Bird is finally able to realise his vision thanks to Netflix – of all studios.
A noir-detective murder mystery that tackles co-inhabitance with aliens, sentiments of anti-corporation origin and exploring the dangers of AI, Ray Gunn arrives more relevant than ever. This is almost ironic, really. Bird first started development for the film over 30 years ago, long before the emergence of generative ai, yet the navigation of such feels remarkably pertinent. And this is perhaps why Netflix’s trust in his vision is so intriguing. Now only one question remains; was Brad Bird’s patience worth it?
The answer to this is evident within the film’s opening minutes. Snooping around for secrets, our lead detective, the titular Ray Gunn (Sam Rockwell), has his secrecy rudely interrupted by violent goons in a brawl that balances creative instinct with expositioning humour. Alongside his partner, Eyera (Tom Waits), a tripod like alien capable of taking photos with his cyclops eye, their brawl and escape demonstrates the exciting retro-futurism that finds man and alien co-existing, or at least partly. As underneath the grimy surface, a dark xenophobia runs deep separating humans and aliens in an u metaphor for racism. Deliberately unsubtle, Bird utilizes such to add sincerity to Ray and Eyera’s unorthodox dynamic, one blessed by mutual respect, and Rockwell and Waits’ blistering chemistry, rather than tropey enemies to friends familiarity.
Running Ray Gunn’s detective agency together, or continuously turning away repossession men in the midst of the business’ financial struggles, the duo find themselves on the verge of bankruptcy. Its Ray’s kind-heartedness and strong moral compass, unusual traits for a private eye, that finds them in this position. As Bird indulges audiences, he perfects the bleakness of this retro-future, but without falling into a darkness that forces Ray Gunn to dull its distinct vibrancy. Approaching this xenophobia with a succinct delicacy, the film’s messaging, whilst erring on the side of simplicity, is where Ray Gunn’s contemporary relevancy shines. Yet Bird also succeeds in traversing these important metaphors without over-describing politics to younger viewers, or distracting from the film’s core murder mystery revolving around Scarlett Johansson’s (Avengers) famed singer Venus Nova.
Ray Gunn’s finest narrative beats occur through this femme fatale of Venus Nova. Encapsulating corporate greed with a scary realism, he challenges societal norms around celebrities and their de-humanizing into commodities and things meant for public consumption. With Scar Jo’s superb voice acting, and incredible singing in collaboration with Grammy winner Kimbra, Venus Nova is instilled with a sad tragedy cautiously established through multiple twists. Some of these fall into predictability, others remain complete surprises. But the journey towards these, achieved through Ray’s detective intuition and Eyera’s alien-abilities, bring Ray Gunn to life. Demonstrating not only why Brad Bird is so celebrated in Hollywood, particularly in animation, but why this movie deserved to get made.
Composer Michael Giacchino (The Batman) is equally influential in this success. His murky score riddles Ray Gunn with the intended noir essence that completes Bird’s latest directorial efforts. Whilst simultaneously capturing the retro-futuristic setting with a thrilling tension that allows the film to gain more and more momentum. Touching up anti-corporate messaging with his uneasy mysteriousness, Giacchino allows the performances of Rockwell and Johansson to explode with energy. His score never overwhelmingly distracts, but compliments the palpable tension festering from an unresolved murder mystery. Where certain twists occur plainly obvious, Giacchino’s work ensures audiences still recognise the emotional beats of these reveals, and proves why Bird asked to reunite for their 6th collaboration together.
It isn’t uncouth to suggest Ray Gunn could join the ranks as the next generation’s Ratatouille. Heavily influenced by cinematic classics (and even touches of the Star Wars prequel trilogy), it arrives a refreshing feast of the eyes. As Ray and Venus become intertwined in this murder mystery, with a blossoming romance emerging through impressive zero-gravity dance numbers and intimate late-night car rides, Ray Gunn only becomes stronger as the minutes roll by. Recurring battles with goons from Slugsy’s (Matt Berry) crew, the film’s nefarious alien mob boss possessing knowledge on Venus Nova’s secret, spark hilarity and a vigorous energy that rarely eases. Accompanied by an interfering police presence, Ray’s detective, and good-hearted nature, face roadblock after roadblock.
As excellent as Ray Gunn’s world building is, established by giant holograms of advertisements, separation of humans and aliens health services, and phones replicating the dread of Zoom calls, the aforementioned xenophobic elements can feel strangely secondary. Never truly given the rich nuance it deserves, and even warrants as the story unfolds, Bird’s latest creative direction is perhaps lacking in this area. Torn between juggling a murder mystery, romance, crumbling detective agency and a painfully timely commentary on the dangers of ai, it just feels slightly flat by the end. A resolution of this world’s troubles not quite achieved, at most slightly implied. Nonetheless, it works, but further exploration here wouldn’t be lost on younger audiences as much as Bird, or likelier Netflix’s studio heads, may believe.
Yet this remains a magnificent achievement regardless. As Bird’s long-awaited vision has become realised, his distinct charm fills Ray Gunn with an incredible splendor guaranteed to have audiences echoing anti-ai and anti-corporation sentiments. In fact, this may be the movie general audiences need right now to understand the growing threat of such evil technologies at the hands of even more evil profit-hungry businesses. Bird delivers a powerful testament to human artistry, and existence alongside one another, that never feels significantly compromised in the journey to being made. A slick colour-grading, fantastic music and inspired performances, Ray Gunn feels ripped from a more nostalgic era of animation.
Ray Gunn Releases in Cinemas December 4th on Netflix December 18th
