Hannah Montana: The Movie: Review By B. Alan Orange

Being mean to Hannah Montana: The Movie and writing witty bon mots about its awfulness is about as useful as picking boogers and flicking them against the wall. Since the dawn of Lindsey Lohan in The Parent Trap, Disney has gone back to making quality live action films that echo their excellent work done in the 1970s. And this film is no exception. It is a quality piece of kiddy entertainment that doesn’t let itself delve too far into the cheesiness of the weekly television show upon which it is based. It’s as worthwhile as anything the Rock or Don Knotts has ever made for the company. And it treats its core fan base with respect and dignity. Which isn’t surprising in the least bit. On the surface, this may look like a prolonged music video for Radio Disney, but underneath its thick layer of pop gloss beats a soft heart of genuine love and understanding. It’s really a story about a father and his struggle with a child that has succeeded where he has not. It dwells on the dramatic arc of single parenting, which fits in perfectly with Disney’s core motif. Hannah Montana serves as an excellent live action companion piece to films such as The Jungle Book, Bambi, Little Nemo, and Monsters, Inc. All of which are swinging from the same basic template. It strives to be about something more than dolls, CDs, and T-shirts while offering a universal lesson that will appeal to the adults that are dragged kicking and screaming into it by their overenthusiastic daughters and sons.

The concept of Hannah Montana is as old as the hills. Striving to have the best of both worlds, Miley Stewart is a pop star in hiding. She’s like Batman for tween girls. One minute she’s donning a blonde wig and taking to a stage full of professional dancers in front of millions, the next she is awkwardly playing volleyball in gym class. It’s the nerd versus the most popular girl in the world, and they both inhabit the same body. On the Disney Channel, this easy bake idea is used to fuel a charged romp of sitcom plasticine. Here, Peter Chelsom uses the conceit to springboard a tale that will resonate with most young woman as they struggle to find an identity in this fast paced world of fashion faux pas and twittering. Candy coated and hiding behind the luxury of fame, Stewart is the personification of peer pressure. She constantly has this god-like deity of teen spunk and commercialism weighing heavily on her back like an all-consuming demon. It’s a fight she loses as her soul drifts deeper into the black hole of general popularity. One side of her face is raging prom queen. The other side is soft, artistic, and willing to accept the world around her at face value. It’s a three-way fistfight between the Id, the ego, and the super-ego. This passion play allows its intended audience to search through the wreckage and find peace and understand in one’s own identity.

As a director, Chelsom was chosen for his keen lack of Hannah Montana knowledge. He didn’t come into this stated franchise well versed in the preexisting television show. He knew very little about its characters and their superstar world. Which, I believe, allowed him to take the concept and wring something fresh and new out of it. That’s not to say he doesn’t wallow in the occasional sitcom cliché like a pig in hot slop. While avoiding the titular wardrobe changing montage that plagued and ruined The Lizzie McGuire Movie, he doesn’t stop himself from diving head first into other titular scenes that have been done a bazillion times, and then some. He only gets away with it because this is a film for young girls not yet acclimated to the world of the Key Stone cop. Having to be in two places at once is something that’s happened to nearly every single character on television at some point. I’m sure it’s happened to Miley Steward during her three-season run. How could it not have? Here, she is asked to juggle a city hall dinner with the mayor as Hannah while trying to engage in a first date with the local stud cowboy as Miley. The revolving door is an arthritic joke that will pain anyone over the age of fourteen. Chelsom knows this, and uses it as the central turning point for our heroine. Battling her yin and yang, she is stripped of her soul as she races across town, trading dresses in a broom closet. What starts out as a good-natured set piece soon turns into a battle of wills. It’s in the midst of this corny routine that she discovers her true self hiding behind a mask of self-importance. Chelsom never looses sight of reality in these over the top moments, allowing the character of Hannah Montana to resonate as a totem of excess. Stewart digs herself out of this cultural hole and finds happiness for the first time. In doing so, she comes to realize that her super star alter ego might not be all its cracked up to be. An important message, sure.

Like any teen star, Miley Cyrus has taken her criticisms and eaten them with a spoon. Not very familiar with her work, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the young woman walking into the theater. All I know her for are the giant billboards that litter the I-5 with her glittered face. She is in nearly every other tabloid rag on the stands. I can see how it would be hard to separate that sorted identity from the girl herself, and that’s what the movie sets out to accomplish on many different levels. On screen, she is likeable enough. She does better with the dramatic curves thrown her way than she does with some of the overworked gags, but only because the jokes seem a little stale at this point in history. She’s a good singer, and the soundtrack is full of harmless, humable musings. If you don’t get swept up in her hip-hop hoedown, you’re probably not human. This is cotton candy. It’s sugary and bad for your teeth, but when you’re at the fair I dare you not to eat it and indulge.

Hannah Montana has a stellar supporting cast that goes a long way in solidifying the fragile structure of this lax comedy. While Cyrus is the star, she is almost overshadowed by the extremely delicate acting of her on-screen best friend Emily Osment. Playing the requisite sidekick Lilly Truscott, she propels the story forward, treating the material like a truthful dramatic rendering of teenage heartbreak. Not a Disney Channel farce. It’s at her sixteenth birthday party that the story gets kicked into gear. While fighting to avoid an annoying member of the paparazzi, Miley is forced to show up at Lilly’s bash in full Hannah drag. Which pulls every modic*m of attention off of the poor birthday girl. It comes as a break in the partnership. This wrongful act is a punishable offence in dad’s eyes. So Miley is booted back to Tennessee where she must reconnect with her family roots. Cyrus’ real life dad Bill Ray is also surprisingly excellent as the lone parent attempting to secure the insanity of his schizophrenic daughter. He decides to mock down any goofiness, instead tackling the archetype as truthfully as he can. If he doesn’t watch it, he might just end up playing someone weightier than the pro-fisherman found in such throwaway crap as Bait Shop. He even gets in a nice duet with his daughter that the audience seemed to really care for.

The story doesn’t ever go out of its way to be different or special. It hits all the requisite notes, giving Miley a lover interest and an identity crisis that most girls will be able to identify with on some level, however obscure. The plot follows her decent into teenage depression and self-realization. The girl doesn’t want to spend two weeks in Crowley Corners, Tennessee. And after seeing all of the glamour that comes with being Hannah Montana, you can’t really blame her. It’s not her fault, and we accept her fight against this urgent transplantation. Of course she is going to act out against the move. The buzz that comes from fame and fortune is fleeting though. Before too long, she is back in the swing of things, loving her old hometown as much as she did when she was a little kid. There is high adventure to be found in the chicken coups and barnyards of small town Americana. Not to mention the young ranch hand is a looker. The audience sigh was deep and long when newcomer Lucas Till walked on screen. He is a polished Disney drool tool that comes up unexpectedly talented. He’s charming and affable, and everything a young prepubescent chick could want in a locker room pin-up. Their romance is cute. And entertaining. Never threatening. Its Disney, so unlike Man in the Moon, the dude doesn’t fall off a tractor and get chewed up at the end. Maybe they’re saving that for the TV series, where he is rumored to be making a return appearance soon.

The film culminates in a giant hoedown stage show. Of course it does. Like Clark Kent in the midst of a breakdown, Hannah doffs her wig to reveal she’s been Miley all along. It’s one of these “Oh, My God!” Moments that had an audience full of fans cheering, and crying. And laughing and dancing. I’m telling you, these kids were enjoying the show. And that energy was infectious. The big question posed is: Will she be able to continue down the Hannah path now that she’s revealed herself? Well, telling you the answer to that would spoil the surprises that are in store. Hannah Montana: The Movie delivers a nice big screen outing for its fans, and should please most of the singe parents that get towed along in stride. Hannah Montana: The Movie? Whoop-doo!

(All of B. Alan Orange’s reviews are based on the Boo! or Whoop-doo! evaluation system.)