The Lego Movie is a brilliant cliché. The story is far from novel as we follow average construction worker Emmitt on his journey to be relevant. Much like an animated version of The Matrix, The Lego Movie’s easy-to-assemble Neo’s most formidable enemy is his own self-doubt and the resonating skepticism from those that surround him. This lifting from The Matrix is, of course, by design.
The presence of Batman, Star Wars, various super heroes and Shaquille O’Neal make this film a two-hour advertisement for everything available to consumers, young and old, in the Legosphere, there is a sardonic commentary offered on the interchangeability of pop culture movies and what we have grown to accept as familiar. This is most notably apparent in Morgan Freeman, who voices the prophetic Vitruvius, the Lego interpretation of Gandolf. Not only does the film borrow, perhaps steal, from one of the most successful and popular franchises in the last fifteen years, but it utilizes Freeman, whose familiarity as the narrative ombudsman – and even God – is at an apex, something doubly confirmed when the audience learns that the Lego world in which we’ve been journeying stems from the imagination of a young boy prohibited from playing with this father’s (Will Ferrell) meticulously constructed city that is stored safely (presumably) in the attic.
Here, The Lego Movie furthers itself as a commercial. Within the father/son dynamic that appears with fifteen minute or so left in the film, parent that grew up with Legos are marketed to through nostalgia. Together, Lego becomes a family-centric product, not simply autonomous projects to quell individual boredom.
At the same time, The Lego Movie illustrates how pop culture perpetuates itself as it re-emerges in different forms as imitative regurgitations. Very often, there is a fine line between imitation and pastiche showcased in this film, but this is left to the judgment of the viewer. The appearance of the Lego Millenium Falcon, Han Solo, Chewbacca, and Lando could very well be part and parcel of a larger repetition designed to cash in on the imminent fervor for all Star Wars-related products as droves of young and old fans wait for the eventual release of Episode VII (subtitled: George Lucas Could Use Three New Houses and a Small Island). However, the eventual fate of the Millennium Falcon could allude to the birth of a new generation of Star Wars fans and the ultimate shift of value from one moment in the franchise to another. What I mean to suggest here is that, within The Lego Movie, the more important here is the 80’s Astronaut and his simple spaceship. Taking these two characters into consideration, we see where the child architect places more value. He avoids the uberfamiliar heroes and veers toward the less familiar, suggesting that he wants to see something novel – or, at least, novel to him.
Throughout, this notion of heroes becoming anti-heroes is showcased quite a bit, most notably in the form of Lego Batman. Sure, in Nolan’s Batman trilogy, Wayne / Batman (not going to apologize for this spoiler) has a darker side that we might have seen in Burton’s interpretation, but The Lego Movie makes Batman an obvious narcissist who just keeps turning up over and over again – something that I’d like to see as a reflection of the numerous franchises that continue to persist despite our familiarity with the hero’s origin story and trodden path.
The Lego Movie is an amusing journey through nostalgia, familiarity, and an exploration of the repetition that comprises our interaction with contemporary pop culture.
