Films that play with the notion of the fourth wall, the one that separates characters from audience, are hardly new.  And there is a certain kind of flirtatiousness about the concept that can provoke a self-aware smile.  Which is all very well when you’re watching a film made by and for adults, but is that necessarily the best approach made for an audience of seven year olds?

Having seen Bolt, I suggest that the answer is no.  I’m generally a fan of the modern animated family movie, at least when it has Pixar connections.  And Bolt delivers much of what you’d expect from the people who brought you Finding Nemo, Monsters Inc, and The Incredibles.  Problem being that the story tries too hard to emulate the success of its forebears, and the slightly too clever-clever script reminds you of that at intervals, with its talk of appealing to the adult demographic and a character talking about precisely the stage of the Hero’s Journey that the protagonist has reached.

Admittedly, some of this will just fly over the head of most children, unless they’re precocious McKee readers that you’re presumably hothousing in the hope that their screenwriting careers will keep you in a secure old age.  But, nevertheless, it feels pretty intrusive at times.

The pretext for all this postmodern shenanigans is that the puppy protagonist of the film is the star of a tv action series but in Truman Show fashion has the truth kept from him lest that burst the bubble of his relationship with the young girl whose life he saves every episode.  Only, the pup escapes from the bogus world and has to survive on the real (albeit animated) streets, accepting that he is a regular dog, with only a trusty band of animal companions to help get Bolt back to his person.

The first chunk of the story presents Bolt in his action hero persona, and is oodles of fun, especially with 3D glasses bringing the helicopter and motorbike action into your face like a razor that’s even closer still.  That’d be the normality of his world then, before the inciting incident which releases him into a more prosaic reality.  In the course of reuniting Bolt with his owner, he has to go through a variety of ordeals to make him a true hero, accepting the reality of his situation and triumphing nonetheless.

Naturally, Bolt wins through, having to emulate the heroism of his tv persona in a real fire that threatens his owner’s life, all too aware of the prospect of death.  And he triumphs, which is what you do when there’s an audience full of toddlers who’d be traumatised by having a dog barbecued in front of them.  Never let it be said that this is a film unaware of its responsibilities.

And that, ultimately, is where Bolt falls down.  So fixated is the script on getting its hero from Plot Point A to Plot Point Z, that it rarely stops to enjoy the potential fun of the situation it has created.  The showbiz-conscious aspects of the story, with pigeons pitching story ideas that are ultimately used in the film’s conclusion, are no fun compared to the sheer zest that Toy Story has in connecting with its audience.

Thinking about it, I was more involved with the trailer for Ice Age 3 that preceded Bolt than I was with the main event.  And that’s instructive: the former was a simple and sweet silent tale of two critturs attracted to one another but vying for possession of an acorn.  The graphics were no more or less magnificent than those of Bolt, but there was a heart to those few minutes that didn’t compare to the relentless pacemaker of Bolt.