Over the Moon [2020]

Starring: Cathy Ang, Phillipa Soo, Ken Jeong, John Cho & Sandra Oh
Directed by: Glen Keane

Distributed by: Netflix
Release Date: October 2020
Running Time: 100 mins

Synopsis: Fueled by memories of her mother, resourceful Fei-Fei builds a rocket to the moon on a mission to prove the existence of a legendary moon goddess.

Based heavily on the Chinese folklore surrounding the moon goddess Chang’e and her lover Hou Yi, Over the Moon is a curious hybrid of American and Asian cultures. The film was produced by Pearl Studio (formerly known as Oriental DreamWorks) but directed by Glen Keane, the lead animator on a number of Walt Disney Classics, such as The Little Mermaid, Aladdin and Tarzan. The fusion of East and West results in a unique visual style; the film is clearly rooted in Asia – both in its setting, its plot and characters – but the film’s structure, CGI-visuals and musical interludes make it feel very American in nature. With the way that Walt Disney Animation Studios and Pixar have both focused heavily on representation during the past decade, the line between localized and global content feels more blurred than ever before. This could easily be something that either studio would produce for the world’s stage nowadays.

As a prominent part of Walt Disney Animation Studio’s “renaissance” in the late 80s-90s, Glen Keane’s directorial style is extremely reminiscent of that period, most evident through the musical interludes that kick off the film’s opening act and introduces the lead characters to the audience. It feels like “textbook Disney” and Fei-Fei is every bit as charismatic a lead as Ariel and Belle. Channelling the same energy as the first ten minutes of Pixar’s Up, Keane is able to make us feel Fei-Fei’s loss so empathetically that we understand the reasons she clings onto the legend of Chang’e living on the moon, and why she is resistant to see her father remarry. That opening half-hour where Fei-Fei is dealing with the immediacy of her grief at losing her mother, and her sense of betrayal when her father seems to be moving on is extremely relatable, even if you haven’t been in that situation yourself.

In another example of its curious blend of Chinese and American folklore, Fei-Fei’s journey to the Moon feels very reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz; something that Keane would visually homage with the sudden shift into a multi-colour wonderland. Further nods to The Wizard of Oz include some of the voice actors playing Fei-Fei’s relatives performing double-duty on characters in Lunaria. I’ve always been a fan of portal-fantasy subgenre, where a character – typically a female – is transported to a separate fantasy world and forced to undertake a quest to return home. Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz and Peter Pan are all great timeless examples of this type of genre, although it is also popular in anime as the ‘isekai’ sub-genre. Over the Moon leans heavily into this as the goddess Chang’e literally sends her off on a quest to discover a mysterious item, sending the narrative on a more fantastical direction for the remainder of the film.

Once on the moon, the film offers a different perspective on the Chang’e and the mythology surrounding her; reimagined as a Lady Gaga-esque songstress who has created a world of colourful creatures to live with her on the moon as a distraction from her grief about losing the love of her life. Her storyline is a mirror to Fei-Fei as they both refuse to move on and accept a future without their lost one. It is at the film’s conclusion where these lessons are learned that the film becomes its most powerful and impactful. The in-between is a somewhat formulaic – and underdeveloped – search for an unknown MacGuffin against an alien world. It is during these moments that the film feels unfocused and unrefined. There are some nice little moments, such as when Fei-Fei meets Gobi, a pangolin voiced by Ken Jeong – who somehow manages to buck all expectations and deliver a likeable performance despite oozing obnoxiousness from every pore in his live-action appearances. His song, sung atop a giant frog leaping through the sky to the royal palace, is one of the highlights of the Lunarian section of the film.

One of the film’s strangest narrative choices is the decision to split Fei-Fei up from her soon-to-be step-brother Chin. Considering the fractious relationship between the two, I thought it was odd that the film didn’t focus on them working together to find the gift for Chang’e. Instead, they are separated and have parallel adventures that eventually intertwine at the end, but means that Fei-Fei’s sudden acceptance of Chin at the end feels slightly unearned. There are a number of odd directorial decisions that could have been resolved with a title-card or added scene – for example, I found it really odd that Fei-Fei’s father was introducing his daughter to his new fiancée for the first time and her eight-year-old son already knew about the engagement. Just really odd pacing, and there were a few little moments like that which felt awkward.

The film’s ending was the biggest disappointment for me as it leaves an ambiguous question mark as to whether the entire adventure was real or not, again borrowing elements from The Wizard of Oz. The film skims over Fei-Fei’s explanation to her father about her and Chin’s absence and the disappearance of her pet rabbit; we’re never given any details as to whether he believes her fantastical adventure happened, or what an alternative might have been. It simply time-skips ahead; we’re never shown whether Chin remembers the events, or whether they both agree to keep it to themselves. It just skips ahead by a year to showcase the new family unit together. I’m happy with it to be ambiguous, but the time jump just felt like a lazy way to hand-wave all those questions away. The ending seems to lean more towards the events being real, given the fact that Bungee stayed behind, but never really addresses it. I’d have much preferred a definitive ending, especially since Fei-Fei was adamant she wanted to prove to her father that Chang’e was real.

Despite the ironic alternate double-meaning behind its title, Over the Moon is a film about grief and loss, and learning that it is okay to move on without betraying the memories of those who’ve passed. When it works, the film is one of the most emotionally resonant portrayals of that topic on-screen, but it also has moments that fall flat in its execution. For a film focused on highlighting the Chinese folklore surrounding the lunar goddess, it never really delves deeply enough into the legend for those unfamiliar with the source material to get a good understanding of it. Perhaps if I had known more about Chang’e and Hou Yi before watching the film, those sequences would have made more of an impact on me.

After such a strong opening act, the film unfortunately loses its momentum once the characters make their way to the moon, with the adventure becoming blander and more formulaic as the setting becomes more colourful and garish. The sequences on Lunaria, while visually impressive and dynamic, lack a strong narrative and devolves quickly into a generic ‘item hunt’ side-quest. The juxtaposition between Chinese and American cultures may have once been a unique trait for the film, but in recent years the bigger animation studios have focused on amplifying the voices and stories of other cultures that has become commonplace. The biggest compliment to give Over the Moon is that it looks and feels like a modern Pixar film, even if its story is slightly rough around the edges.