Notification

×

Source: Agency

The foundation of The Boss Baby: Family Business starts in an emotionally satisfying place

| 5.3.22 |
    Share

The Boss Baby: Family Business

 Packed mischievously in the subtitles, a clear double meaning in The Boss Baby: Family Business. There are “family businesses” which are related to work (and often ownership) that are passed down from generation to generation, and there are “family businesses”, as in issues and topics and relationships in the context of nuclear units. There is a third meaning to be drawn from this, the remnants of his more shrewd and scalpel-like predecessors examination of the family and capitalism, which says that The Boss Baby is honest and grins in his conception of the family unit and nucleus as analogous to some kind of profession or career that must be managed. 

Three definitions or interpretations of this phrase are scattered throughout the film, Tom McGrath's second film in the franchise (there is an animated television show, which I've never seen). As the subtitle play on words suggests, McGrath and screenwriter Michael McCullers' attention is divided, myriad interests, adoration, hatred, and fears as focused as five-year-old Pixie Stix. It rolls around the subject matter toys—fraternal alienation, the question of what masculine success looks like or what it looks like, the role of fathers as laborers, fathers as storytellers, criticism of the startup-ification of schooling—throws its brief fixation against the wall like Playdoh.
The foundation of The Boss Baby: Family Business begins in an emotionally satisfying place, in the sense that it begins with disappointment, a dose of reality rarely provided by films made for children. Tim (James Marsden) is an adult with a family of his own: he has wife Carol (Eva Longoria) and two daughters, 7-year-old Tabitha (Ariana Greenblatt) and baby Tina (Amy Sedaris). 

As she and her older daughter grew apart, Tabitha was unsure of her father's constantly imaginative behavior and her own place in the world. It's not necessarily the plot of a novel for a children's film, nor is it a component of Tim's sense of failure as a father (see: Hook), but this dynamic is compounded by the family's estrangement. She and Ted, aka Boss Baby (Alex Baldwin), no longer really talk, Ted gives gifts to satisfy his nephew and break up with his older brother. Family estrangement is also not a unique premise to a film. But it's the combination of the two, and the generic context, that suggests something interesting about recapitulation, if not trauma [groans], then at least a sense of loss and erosion of power. In essence, The Boss Baby: Family Business begins where the lessons from the previous film are not learned, where the humorous morals of the story don't stick, and where real life gets in the way. Ted became rich and in his own right, as in his past BabyCorp life, and Tim never came to terms with the idea that, even though they were family, that people were subject to their own whims and desires, even at the cost of anything. society considers relationships important.

The premise isn't all that bad, and there's a sense of palpable honesty, snaking anxiety about loss and discontent slid into the life one thought he had found, only to see him repeat the devastation. It's never going to be a Tracy Letts drama or anything, it's never going to delve into the Freudian psychosexual turmoil of even a Spielberg film, but The Boss Baby: Family Business makes for something compelling that breaks its promise like its characters, and maybe that's by design. The rest of the film rolls through plot points: Tina is from BabyCorp, Tabitha's intense prep school will plot to turn the kids against their parents, it's run by the headmaster's odd charmer (Jeff Goldblum), this continues to threaten Team's relationship with Tabitha, Tina asks Ted and Tim to take on a mission, they transform into their younger selves to infiltrate the school, Tim notices that Tabitha is an academic star, but is somewhat of a social outcast and befriends her, et cetera, et cetera. etc.
This is part of Howard Hawks' Monkey Business and part of Back to the Future, however, only old templates sustain thematic depth: how Tim and Ted's conceptions of what makes a man successful change when forced to re-examine their latent understanding of what masculinity is even ? How does it impact when their own fraternal relationship oscillates between workable and corrosive? What's left of Back to the Future in this film are the usually oddly complex elements of Electra, which are only best used in musical sequences that give Marsden a chance to hum against McGrath's vivid visuals. 

To his credit, it mainly follows in the footsteps of its predecessor in his reluctance to aspire towards animated verisimilitude, unlike many of his contemporaries. The Boss Baby: Family Business is often most powerful when it articulates the infinity of how imagination and anxiety can be illustrated and styled, unattached to the "real world" finicky grip on detail and reality. The film has a complementary aesthetic and emotional perspective, although its commitment to the ideas it seeks to explore is inconsistent.
It's not clear if this is an explicit reference, although McGrath appears to be a student of Howard Hawks: his interrogations of gender, his quick dialogue with floating camera movements, but perhaps most importantly his ability to relate the class to the jokes, which underlie it. with sincerity trying to avoid maudlin. While Family Business is too sporadic and too locked-in in its young adult demo, its original configuration of the nuclear unit as a sort of manageable workforce and production system was, in the first film, a target to put against a wall and throw a knife at. in. It's not a way of living life, in such a detached and productivity-oriented way; the "boss baby" image is ironic, a way of pointing out the weaknesses that emerge in the family structure. The success of The Boss Baby is based not only on its gonzo, Chuck Jonesian animation, but a clear desire to reconsider what validation means in a relationship structure that is increasingly being transformed by automation and technology. 

The Baby Boss is pathetic, is what I said, a compact children's version of last season's 30 Rock, admitting that the pursuit of success in a capitalist system will eventually lead to a vacuum. It's here too, albeit obscured by its plot twists. There's a fine quip about how the company culture has tried to incorporate caring language, and the fuzzy way of navigating family relationships and that professional context is very dark.
I think, The Boss Baby: Family Business His greatest joy, and one he shares with the Hawks, is with the painful lack of control we have over our family relationships, and how that control is being wrenched from us more and more as time goes on. If our family is basic functional, we are promised that "lifelong" intimacy and functionality, developed for eternity, regardless of internal or external factors that dispute or challenge that intimacy. That family closeness actually has an expiration date that we can't read until it gets worse. It's really not a spoiler to say that things went well for everyone, but just before it ends, there are hints towards a harder film, one for older audiences, one that is more explicit about promises broken by family, the myth of family perfection. the unreachable, and the path that action sends us. It points in the same direction: a father who will not grow up like his daughter, a wealthy but isolated businessman whose connections are only transactional, and the decades-old cracks in their relationship that made them who they are. 

In this harder and more honest film, will time heal those wounds? Or will their purulent wounds result in intimate gangrene? Time widens the alienation in pain and disappointment and despair. However, not here in this fantasy. But maybe someday they'll turn back to that… will time heal those wounds? Or will their purulent wounds result in intimate gangrene? Time widens the alienation in pain and disappointment and despair. However, not here in this fantasy. But maybe someday they'll turn back to that… will time heal those wounds? Or will their purulent wounds result in intimate gangrene? Time widens the alienation in pain and disappointment and despair. However, not here in this fantasy. But maybe someday they'll roll back on that.

×
Latest news Update