Hand-drawn animation appears to be an endangered species, but Disney’s Florida animation unit is striving to keep the venerable cartoon tradition alive. The Florida team scored a big hit with last year’s tale of two misfits, Lilo & Stitch, and now they’ve gone back to nature for the fall family release Brother Bear. Disney’s latest isn’t in the same domain as animal-oriented classics like The Lion King and Bambi, but it does boast some lovely visuals, entertaining vocal performances, and an unusual storyline inspired by Native American transformation myths.



Set 10,000 years ago in the Pacific Northwest (though you’d never know it from the contemporary dialogue), Brother Bear is the tale of three Native American brothers: Sitka, Denahi and stubborn young Kenai. The older brothers tease Kenai when he is presented his personal totem at a traditional ceremony—a carved bear, symbol of love. (It’s a big letdown compared to Sitka’s eagle of guidance and Denahi’s wolf of wisdom.) When Kenai chases after a bear that has stolen a basket of fish he left unprotected, the situation turns perilous and noble Sitka is forced to sacrifice his life. The angry Kenai tracks the bear and kills it, but he’s suddenly swept up in the magic of the Northern Lights and is himself transformed into a member of the ursine family. Denahi, who has been following Kenai, believes the bear he sees has murdered his brother and vows revenge. Meanwhile, the tribe’s shaman woman appears to explain that Sitka’s spirit is responsible for Kenai’s strange new identity and that Kenai can find his brother atop a mystical mountain.



The message of Brother Bear—and it’s a good one for kids—is the value of looking at the world through another’s eyes. Though shrouded in bearskin, Kenai still maintains his hatred for the furry creatures, yet he has no choice but to bond with his fellow bears and discovers what it’s like to be hunted by man. Kenai also finds himself at first annoyed and then disarmed by Koda, a motormouthed orphan cub who becomes his unsolicited forest guide.



Directors Aaron Blaise and Robert Walker take a painterly approach to this nature tale, using stylized backgrounds inspired by the artwork of one of their team, Xiangyuan Jie. As with the appealing watercolors of Lilo & Stitch, the distinctive look of the film is one of its strong points. The filmmakers also make the bold decision to expand the frame to the wider Cinemascope shape (and use brighter colors) once Kenai wakes up inside the body of a bear, a visual shorthand for his disorientation.



To keep things lively, there are six new songs by Phil Collins, a big contributor to the success of Disney’s 1999 Tarzan. Collins’ tunes tend to sound the same, but they’re still damn catchy. Wisely this time, the movie isn’t a Collins concert—the eclectic group of interpreters includes Tina Turner, The Blind Boys of Alabama and the Bulgarian Women’s Choir.



Joaquin Phoenix lends his raspy plaintiveness to the part of Kenai, while young Jeremy Suarez of TV’s “Bernie Mac Show” brings an uncanny showbiz professionalism to comic sidekick Koda—his vocal performance is so animated, he barely needs the drawings. “SCTV” fans (like me) will enjoy the return of Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas’ McKenzie Brothers characters, in the guise of two dunderheaded moose. (Their love of beer remains strong, as they speak longingly of retreating to “a cool bed of malted hops.”) The movie gets laughs out of the deliberately anthropomorphic behavior of the forest animals once Kenai enters their world, but it could have used even more humor to balance its earnest drama. Still, Brother Bear is solid entertainment for the kid audience—as long as they don’t feel too inspired to make friends with any bears that may wander into their backyards.