BABE: PIG IN THE CITY (1998) **1/2 The mean streets are fermenting with potential grace. Where? On the dowels where surrealism merges with hyperrealism. Is this one? Pigs don't bother counting the days. Magda Szubanski should win some kind of award, perhaps from the Society For Perfection in Its Many Forms. The outside-time sets are more than enough for a semester-long seminar on almost anything, but the darkness and randomly demonstrable catharsis may frustrate those weaned on the mythology of Charlotte's Web. Instead, this is a very credible tale manned by creatures so real as to engender transcontinental stereotypes. There is virtue in the melodic hammering of subtleties, and the disparate soundtrack--delivered by a blind mouse chorus occasionally veering into a Socratic narrative of negation. Behavior modification is a joke on the unapproved, which contributes mightily to the film's depiction of the majesty of used tires and clear well water. A children's film, and you're one whether you like it or not.
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