A painted dream of childhood What distinguishes “Child of Light” from the often derivative landscapes of whimsical fantasy is its ability to convey the subtle aches of growing up. This it does via mesmerizing visuals lavish with somber, earthy tones, and dapples of subdued shades and hues. Indeed, any scene in “Child of Light” – whether it be of a lonesome glade or weather-beaten cliffs overlooking a grand vista – is akin to a watercolor masterpiece in an art gallery. Character designs elicit a classic charm. Robert, an anthropomorphic mouse who becomes Aurora’s ally, seems to jump straight out of the Beatrix Potter books. Aurora herself emanates both fragility and feistiness, and an awareness of her surroundings that belies her tender years. What the visuals accomplish with the paintbrush, the soundtrack achieves with the crystalline tinkling of the piano, and the sweeping, plaintive cries of strings. When Aurora treads treacherous grounds, the choir booms with the gravity of the danger surrounding her. It’s a wonderfully memorable score, effortlessly communicating the story’s physical and emotional scale. “Child of Light” may be a fairytale, but it is far from childish. Lemuria is a realm paved with darkness. Despite the countless joys found in its gorgeous locales and colorful folk, there is suffering, death, and war peeking furtively from the corners of its history. Aurora’s desperate quest paints a meaningful and emotive picture – one that parallels the pain of being torn from those things that once made you feel safe and warm.
Posted on: Sat, 24 May 2014 18:09:03 +0000
Trending Topics
© 2015