Mark Reviews Movies: VIVO

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Review by Mark Dujsik | August 4, 2021

While the thought is likely a shallow impression and a hollow cliché, Vivo has a big heart. It's the kind of film that doesn't do much in terms of story—an adventure that's basically a race against the clock—and doesn't do anything original while telling that story—a computer-animated musical. There is, though, the underlying sensation that everything about co-writer/director Kirk DeMicco's film is sincere. That goes a long way, especially when there's relatively little to the story and the characters.

Then again, there is a lot more happening here than the surface of the plot, which is essentially about characters getting from point A to point B, with a few obstacles and challenges scattered along the way. It revolves around the tiny-fedora-wearing Vivo, a cute kinkajou—an animal that looks like a golden monkey but is actually its own thing, commonly known as a "honey bear." As a youngster in the rainforest, Vivo accidentally found itself trapped in a shipping crate carrying fruit to Cuba. Scared and alone on the streets of Havana after escaping his wooden prison, the little animal became the pet and friend of an old street musician. They make peppy music together in a local plaza.

Vivo, by the way, is voiced by Lin-Manuel Miranda, that most energetic and dynamic composer/lyricist of stage and, more recently, screen musicals. His casting here almost certainly comes because he is responsible for film's diverse list of songs, which embrace a few Latin traditions of music, give us a couple of amusing or heartfelt ballads, and often incorporate or, in the case of the soundtrack's catchiest tune, simply dive straight into hip hop.

The songs here aren't meant to carry the film, but they certainly keep it on track in terms of momentum and tone. What's important, though, is that the film itself doesn't necessarily need that guidance.

As for the story (written by DeMicco and co-screenwriter Quiara Alegría Hudes), Vivo's savior from a lonely life hiding from local dogs is Andrés (voice of Juan de Marcos González), who was once a musician with a promising professional career ahead of him. Now, he's more than happy to simply make music, with the kinkajou's own expertise on various rhythm instruments and acrobatic dancing (not to mention some rapping that none of the humans can understand), for generous locals. There's a boisterous introductory sequence that sums up all of this, and it's impressive how DeMicco and the animators ensure that the motion and vibrancy of the imagery keep up with and complement Miranda's mile-a-minute vocals.

The simple plot begins quickly, too. Andrés receives a letter from the United States, written by his former musical partner, the now famous Marta Sandoval (voice of Gloria Estefan). She's retiring and, after decades apart, would love Andrés to accompany her on stage one last time for her farewell concert.

The old man loved Marta. Not wanting that to get in the way of her imminent success, Andrés kept his love to himself, professing it in a song that he wrote but has never performed. This might be his last chance to tell Marta how he felt and, maybe, still feels.

On account of a sad twist of fate, Vivo is left to this task on his own, so he sneaks into the luggage of Andrés' visiting great-niece Gabi (voice of Ynairaly Simo), arrives in Key West, and has to find a way to reach Miami before the evening's concert. After deciphering the kinkajou's plan, Gabi, a plucky but insecure girl who's still grieving the death of her father (Zoe Saldana voices the girl's mother, who sadly knows she's no substitute for her late husband), is determined to help.

The rest is essentially an adventure. There are a few chases (In between giving their neighbors guilt trips about everything, Gabi's environmentalist scouting group want to make sure the wild animal has gone through quarantine, and they're persistent pre-teen girls), some broad pratfalls on account of Gabi's spirited incompetence, and encounters with silly (a pair of socially awkward spoonbills, voiced by Brian Tyree Henry and Nicole Byer, trying to fulfill the requirements of "dating" season) or deadly (a python, voiced by Michael Rooker, who just wants some quiet) wildlife in the Everglades. Most of this material feels like a requirement, fulfilling the need for a plot and some humor and a larger cast of misfits, but at least it doesn't get in the way, is occasionally funny, and fits in with Vivo and Gabi feeling like outcasts.

All of the adventuring remains on the surface, because the core of the story is about loss, unrequited and vanished love, and making connections before time and fate make that impossible. It's admirable how succinctly and firmly the filmmakers establish the never-to-be romance between Andrés and Marta (Helping is a sequence of 2-D animation that is filled with stagy glitz and shows that more romantic time, while a refrain of the sequence serves as the story's emotional climax), just as it's charming how playfully and sincerely they build up the budding friendship between Vivo and Gabi. Music matters on that front, when the two bond over makeshift percussion and when they turn a woeful song into an encouraging one through harmony.

A lot about Vivo is simple, but it hardly matters. It's a sincere and generous film where it counts, and that amounts to a lot.

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