In an exaggerated but not illogical progression of modern consumerism-crazed society, the Earth has become so saturated with garbage as to be presumably uninhabitable, and the humans have long since fled into space on luxurious galactic cruises in an exodus reminiscent of Londoners during the Great Stink of 1858. Still toiling away on the planet’s surface is a single trash-collection robot. This is Wall-E, a strange little piece of machinery, full of curiosity and its own personality, a gentle admonishment, by his very existence, of the excesses of humanity – much like the film itself. Wall-E works and collects oddities and spare parts alone, until a feminine probe robot (Eve) from the galactic cruise lines drops in and discovers a plant seedling growing on the planet.

Under strict programming to deliver anything living back to the ship, the probe leaves earth – with a lovestruck Wall-E tagging along behind. It turns out that mankind has now been on vacation in space for generations, which has transformed them into a race of chubby couch potatoes (or, more accurately, electronic-hover-lounge-chair potatoes), drinking cupcakes- and burgers-in-a-cup. Wall-E’s presence quickly shakes things up as he pursues Eve and helps her deliver the plant seedling, which will engage an automatic system to send mankind back to Earth. The humans, energized and intrigued by all the old/new prospects that a return to Earth holds (like growing food and dancing), help the robots to overcome the truculent ship’s autopilot, and make their way back to a new life restoring the Earth.

A film that could so easily tumble into the realm of pure and overly-obvious morality tale, Wall-E manages to sidestep the danger by putting the central focus on the robot love-story. It’s endearing and distracting, and allows the humans and their message to slip comfortably and comically into the background. This is just as well, as the situation has been highly simplified in order to tell the story more efficiently, and to direct attention most intensely to those parts of society that it is targeting. For example, every person on Earth has apparently left the planet on a cruise that is the embodiment of consumer culture; surely not everyone would have been able to afford such a decadent escape route. As with the London exodus of 1856, the poorest people would have to stay behind and fend for themselves. When telling such a straightforward story, however, and with a distracter so bold as two quirky besotted robots, the background can afford to be simple, and, in fact, better projects its lessons this way.

An interesting point about Wall-E is that it seems to be part of a recent trend to escape from the fatalistic, alarmist dystopian narratives of previous decades.  These years were full of tales of irrevocable nuclear disaster or societal collapse: Planet of the Apes, Clockwork Orange, Brave New World, Soylent Green.  All of these films and novels may have reflected the attitude of the time, but also seemed to be warning humanity against its own potential for destruction.  More recently, however, a strong theme of hope for redemption, even in the midst of dystopia, has seemed to run through the science fiction genre.  Films like Demolition Man (1993), Gattaca (1997), The Matrix, and V for Vendetta (2005), all show people fighting to fix the disaster that humanity has wrought on itself – and actually making progress.  Though it may seem odd to group a lighthearted animated film with these explosive adventure tales, Wall-E shares the same theme as its rougher brethren: no longer simply warning humanity that it’s headed towards disaster, but offering it encouragement and, most importantly, hope.  Without these, after all, who would try to make a difference?  Though it may veer dangerously close to beating you over the head with its desire to inspire change, Wall-E will certainly leave you feeling hope, rather than fear, for the future.