Ja tvoi sluga. Ja tvoi Rabotnik

Very occasionally, cinema goers are lucky enough to witness a ‘wow’ moment—not a film that merely makes you think it was good, but one where you know you just experienced an event, a film that has the potential to change a genre utterly. Pixar’s WALL•E is one such film.

Superficially, WALL•E is a film about a curious little waste-disposal robot, tasked with cleaning up a toxic Earth (whose humans have nipped off in a spaceship while the work’s being done for them), who looks a lot like a squat Johnny 5. Kids will love the (surprisingly brave) initial dialogue-free section of the film, which shows WALL•E going about his business, building skyscrapers of trash, and playfully cherry-picking bits and pieces to take home and categorise (a memorable moment shows WALL•E confused by a spork, and, logically enough, after hovering it over his small pile of spoons and a collection of forks, he places it between the two) and a string of exciting, high-paced action sequences that arrive later.

However, look past the child-friendly sheen and you have the greatest example to date from Pixar of a film that works on several levels. The Earth that WALL•E is trying to tidy appears to have been under the thumb of megacorporation Buy n Large, intent on driving the population into a constant consumerist frenzy. And when later in the film you chance upon the fate of the exiled humans, Pixar’s cartoon-like presentation barely masks a fierce satire on consumerism, apathy, laziness, and a generation’s desire to experience the world via purely virtual means, rather than actually living life and making genuine connections.

Of course, WALL•E is the antithesis of this. Despite being a robot, he has so much warmth and love to give, and yet he’s spent hundreds of years slowly cleaning up the Earth as his fellow droids gradually malfunctioned around him, thereby leaving him utterly alone. When the possibility of companionship arrives, he grasps it utterly, first with a scavenging cockroach, and then with EVE, a robotic probe whose function is to determine whether Earth is habitable. (With EVE’s form being sleek and white, I imagine it’s all Pixar could do to stop themselves plonking an Apple logo on her.)

The fact that every one of these components works brilliantly is testament to the talent within Pixar’s walls. The messages aren’t heavy handed, but will resonate with those who chose to engage with them. The animation is, perhaps unsurprisingly, first-rate, with wonderful designs, direction and characterisation. But it’s WALL•E and EVE’s story that’s the most riveting. And although you might feel foolish at welling up at the plight of two robots—animated robots at that—it’d take a heart of steel to not be captivated by this genuinely heartwarming and hopeful tale about loneliness and how important it is to make connections.

WALL•E seriously considers peeling off and reapplying all the stickers, because life’s just too short.

Before you all drive me utterly insane

1. Logos

I know this is going to come as a massive shock, but I’m not as excited nor as impressed by your shiny animated logo as you are. I’m also not particularly bothered by the logos of all 46 other companies involved in the making of the DVD.

Making me sit and watch your stupid logos shimmying around while annoying jingles play in the background and not enabling me to skip past them makes me want to set fire to your headquarters. Twice.

2. Trailers

Again, I think you’re going to be quite surprised by this, but when I’ve just paid real cash for one of your DVDs, what I actually want to see is the film or show I’ve paid for, not adverts for whatever else you’re trying to flog at the time.

What I’m significantly less happy about (and by ‘less happy’, I mean ‘about as happy as I’d be if an elephant decided to defecate on my keyboard right now’) is in not being able to skip, with a single button-press, past all of your jolly adverts and to the DVD’s main menu, you total gits.

3. Copyright notices

It may have escaped your notice, but when I’ve paid money for one of your DVDs, I’m therefore not a stinking, evil, nasty pirate scumbag. Therefore, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult me with patronising, unskippable, legally shaky copyright notices (“You wouldn’t steal a car!” Quite right, but copyright infringement and theft aren’t the same thing, dumbass.) when I’ve actually gone to the bother of buying your product, you dolts.

4. Animated intros

This will perhaps be the biggest revelation of all, but some people actually watch the DVDs they’ve bought more than once. And if they’ve bought a series, not only might they not want to watch an entire DVD in one go, but they might also want to later watch a particularly favourite episode. Therefore, although your 3D animator is probably very proud of their work, and you likely want to show that, yes, you care enough about a show to spend a few bucks on the menus, not letting me skip past the animated intros to menus and sub-menus is akin to repeatedly kicking me in the teeth, removing my remaining shards of teeth, nailing dentures into my gums, and then repeatedly kicking me in the dentures, just for good measure.

(South Park guys: your menus are particularly hateful—I really don’t want some unskippable 30-second out-of-context chunk of an episode to be shown prior to the menu options appearing. And the reason is because I’m just about to watch the actual episode, you complete buffoons.)

Seriously. No, really.

Truth is not only stranger than fiction, but considerably more messed up and generally f——ed in the head. News has begun circulating that Crystal Sky Pictures has signed a whopping $200 million deal that covers five movies, including videogame adaptations. One of the adaptations: Castlevania. The other: Pac-Man. Seriously. Check your calendar, because I’m pretty certain April the 1st was a good few weeks back.

I only hope Hollywood’s take on Namco’s classic about hallucinogenic drugs, repetitive maze-like urban environments, fruit, incessant noise and street crime (OK, I’m struggling here) matches Scott Gairdner’s effort. (“It looks like the hunters… became the hunted!”) And if Crystal Sky Pictures runs out of universally well-known titles, it could always trawl though the thousands of more obscure games on World of Spectrum and Gamebase 64. If any Hollywood execs are reading, I want first dibs on the Zolyx screenplay, OK?