Architecture in Horton Hears a Who — Building a New Classic
Latest “Blue Sky Studios” feature, “Horton Hears a Who,” transfers Dr. Seuss’ classic onto the up-to-date medium of digital animation — and what was lost and what was gained in the process seems to be the major concern of many film critics. While most agree that the computerized reproduction of Dr. Seuss’ iconic visuals — the big eared Elephant Horton, the jungle vegetation, the town of Whoville and its residents — is faithful to the source, if at times too glossy, they in the same breath express reservations about the adjusted storyline (the script was written by Ken Daurio and Cinco Paul).
Both the jungle and Whoville seem bigger and denser than the book versions. There are more trees, more exotic kinds of animals and more of them in the animated jungle. Whoville is introduced with a magnificent tracking shot that reveals the relative Lilliputian size of both the town and its populace. The hues are more saturated and the main characters put on their own distinctive color coats.
Directors Jimmy Hayward and Steve Martino wanted to set their film apart from the source. They wanted to create a remake which is also an original. They achieve this goal in their treatment of architectural references and allusions.
One adaptation amounts to simply substituting words with images. Instead of narrating to the audience about the architectural achievements the mayor of Whoville so proudly lists in the book (You’ve saved all our houses, our ceilings and floors/You’ve saved all our churches and grocery stores), the directors show them directly. The town is an architectural extravaganza: laws of nature are turned upon themselves or bent gratuitously to suit the Whos’ apparently exotic taste.
The audience learns how the condos are built and what construction work goes on inside the observatory. The observatory literally towers above the animated Whoville. It is an abandoned structure where the mayor’s son builds a grotesque music making device (looking a lot like a Rube Goldberg machine on steroids). When the mayor sees it, he exclaims “did you build it?” Yes, he did — and that machine helped to save Whoville. But perhaps the most telling example occurs in the beginning, when the two worlds establish first contact. The sound of Horton’s voice travels through water pipes twining around the mayor’s house, in what resembles a modern architectural element that daringly combines engineering with aesthetic design.
The mayor encounters an architect who notes, sardonically, that “these luxury condos don’t build themselves,” only to witness a moment later, after an unexpected earthquake, that they indeed do. The architect subsequently retorts: “Well, I guess, after all they do build themselves.” I laughed, and could hear more laughs from adjacent seats. Then, we realize that the earthquake was caused by Horton, who was later forced to conclude that “This whole jungle is a house of death.” This line uses the comic duality of the situation to good effect: Horton, the biggest animal around, has to pretend to think like a miniature Who (and he does this in architectural terms).
Together, these sequences create a critical mass that tips the scale in favor of the filmmakers, marking them as original story-tellers. They wanted to build their own Whoville — and what better way to do this than to introduce a new set of architectural motifs and allusions.
>Written by d/visible contributor Elijah Shifrin .
