CHRISTOPHER ROBIN. Genuinely Accomplished Film

It begins with a series of separations and failures. Christopher Robin organizes a farewell gathering with his friends from the Hundred Acre Wood. The boy is about to be sent to boarding school. The end of adventures, carefree play, and blissful idleness is inevitably approaching. The opening minutes of Christopher Robin are a live-action transposition of the ending of The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Walt Disney’s animated feature from 1977. Director Marc Forster draws on the same shots, compositions, locations, and lines of dialogue.

He preserves a similar aura of wonder and emotional weight. The two friends realize that after the final “See you, Christopher” and “See you, Pooh,” nothing will ever be the same again. Indeed.

While the Bear will lapse into a kind of dormancy, Christopher is struck by a true avalanche of misfortune. A few years later he learns of his parents’ deaths. He gets back on his feet, finds a wife, and they have a daughter, Madeline. Then war breaks out, and the grown-up Christopher (Ewan McGregor) is sent to the front. After returning, he lands a well-paid job as an executive at a major luggage manufacturer. The work consumes him to such an extent that he has scarcely any time for his daughter or his wife. The marriage exists more on paper than in reality.

Salvation is supposed to come in the form of a family trip to a cottage in the countryside. The day before, however, Christopher receives an order from his boss. The company is in crisis and must start saving money and cutting costs—preferably through drastic layoffs. The family weekend is canceled because it’s work, work, work. There is nothing left of the boy he once was. Just when it seems that his dreamy nature has been utterly defeated by uncompromising reality, his beloved stuffed bear returns.

Christopher is beset by moral dilemmas; his behavior shows signs of mental and physical exhaustion, and disappointment with himself steers him toward depression. Christopher Robin circles themes of a far greater caliber than those we associate with the books of A. A. Milne and the famous animated adaptations. The film is produced by Disney, however, so certain boundaries will, of course, not be crossed. More important than probing the psyche in depth is signaling the problems. The adult viewer fills in what remains unspoken.

Still, Christopher Robin remains fully fledged family cinema—a parable with a message. Unfortunately, the closer we get to the end, the more bluntly that message is expressed. It’s not that Forster’s film follows a well-worn narrative scheme. The hero’s final transformation and the proper hierarchy of values are clear from the outset. Yet the story’s predictability does not strip Disney’s latest production of its magic and charm. It can be read in two ways: quite literally, denying any division between the real and the imagined, or as an allegory operating through less obvious metaphor. In both cases, Christopher Robin retains its dramatic power. It is, after all, a film with beautiful moments.

In Christopher Robin, the filmmakers speak about simple emotions in a simple way, while avoiding banality. In the film’s most important passage—when Christopher returns to the Hundred Acre Wood—the director deftly rebuilds the bonds among the old group of friends. Meaningful props—the balloon and the compass—matter greatly, as does the repetition of past events and situations: tracking one’s own footprints, the consequences of a blustery day, or a confrontation with a Heffalump. Christopher participates in them, but also observes them—initially with a hint of cynicism, later with growing energy and passion. This, of course, carries over into many other areas of his life, especially since the issues at stake go far beyond the trivial punchline “about the power of imagination.” The return of Winnie-the-Pooh is a turning point and a promise of change.

Though imperfect, Christopher Robin is, at crucial moments, a genuinely accomplished film. It doesn’t lack familiar mottos—among them the telling line about getting lost and being found—delivered in a charming, unobtrusive way. Equally important are the sentiment for the world of Winnie-the-Pooh and the nature of these characters (including their potentially irritating quirks), as well as the seeming naïveté of their relationships. Marc Forster understood this convention, dressing it only in a new form while preserving its distinctive style, mood, and pace. It all sounds almost too familiar—but believe me, Christopher Robin is about more than nostalgia alone.