There’s a simple, earnest charm to Irish director Nora Twomey’s transporting adaptation of 1948 kids book My Father’s Dragon, a welcome diversion from the poppy smugness that wears down so many animated films today. For all of Netflix’s many faults, the streamer’s versatility within the cartoon sphere has helped to elevate and distinguish them from studio rivals, where too often each new offering feels one and the same, tonally and visually. It’s allowed for smaller, less brash, films to peek through, each with its own unbranded personality and aesthetic and here’s a persuasive example of how that idiosyncrasy can work so very well.
It hails from Cartoon Saloon, the Kilkenny-based mini-studio that’s quietly insisted itself as a real industry force with Twomey’s previous three films – The Secret of Kells, The Breadwinner and Wolfwalkers – all breaking into the best animated feature race at the Oscars, nestled alongside the big boys. My Father’s Dragon is a less elevated, more kiddy adventure than those but one that still feels like much-needed fresh air.
