Magic Beach is an animated portmanteau film that plays in the shallows but struggles to venture out to sea. Based on the beloved picture book of the same name by Alison Lester, the film blends live-action and an array of animated stories to present a magical beach that can bring various children’s dreams to life. Robert Connolly, whose personal friendship with Lester inspired him to oversee the production, creates a well-intentioned experiment that reminds children of their capacity to imagine. Unfortunately, it lacks a strong narrative throughline to prop up the varied and creative technical prowess.
The gimmicky structure of Magic Beach is as follows: the film introduces a child, and they soon begin reading the titular book. In doing so, they are transported to the beach, where their dreams and thoughts manifest in one of the ten animated, tales. These come in disparate artistic forms, including stop-motion, felt, hand-drawn pencil animation, heavy paint strokes, and illustrated superimpositions. While playful and imaginative, the only storytelling thrust supporting these ideas is that of connecting each child to the fantasy realm within the beach. These are also children that the audience can’t glean further into other than their fantasies.

The first of these stories, The Horses by Emma Kelly, features a young boy daydreaming at the beach – quickly whisked up on a white horse that can gallop underwater. In a simple, hand-drawn animation style, the horse lyrically rides along the sand, swims with the jellyfish, and jumps above the waves. Like many of the following vignettes, it evokes a feeling (whimsy and dance in this example) rather than a straight narrative. The strongest of the batch, The Smugglers by Anthony Lucas, features a stop-motion account of a liar and thief known as Salty, who swindles a group of privateers at a pirate cove. Its well-made, scruffy, around-the-edges look and feel accurately represent the cautionary tale of someone who fails to succeed using deception.
The most inventive, Princess Belinda by Marieka Walsh, uses a visual style of felt to present a d/Deaf princess trying to rescue her baby brother from a seaweed monster. Using a true sense of play-school-like artistry, the princess must travel through a forest made of watermelon, gliding along waves of slices and seeds on her purple steed to achieve her act of heroism. The look of that story one could imagine coming directly from the imagination of a child. Even a dog’s daydream gets a look in – using paint strokes, Doggy Day Dreaming by Lee Whitmore is a small but quirky yarn about a dog who leaves the beach for a globe-trotting escapade in search of sausages. Some of the more unmentioned stories here fall more on the forgettable side.

The collaborative soundtrack by various artists adds a great sense of personality to each story and the film itself—a sundry, gentle, playful, and calming score. The final story, Gilay Gabinya, by Aboriginal artist Jake Duczynski, is particularly strengthened by the score and soundscape. It features a hooded boy who goes on a bioluminescent journey with a water creature using a very experimental and colourful visual palette. The score heightens the senses and captures the mysteriousness of his surroundings.
Translating the source material into an engaging format for the younger target demographic isn’t consistently successful. The original book was deemed a classic for its ability to inspire children through a blend of reality and fantasy. Wonder, vibrance, the natural world – the magic beach could provide adventure, surprise, transformation, and even life itself. It charmed parents and children alike in Australia. In film form it’s a mixed bag.

Each of the animators (Emma Kelly, Susan Danta, Lee Whitmore, Anthony Lucas, Kathy Sarpi, Eddie White, Simon Rippingale, Pierce Davidson, Marieka Walsh, and Jake Duczynski) attempt to uphold these themes through their various forms and styles, but as is as the nature of anthology works – patience and attention will vary depending on the story. Not only is it unbalanced, but the film also has a too languid pace to its proceedings, a decision that will prove trying to kids who can’t get around its piecemeal structuring.
The tide ebbs and flows sporadically throughout Magic Beach. Despite a diverse set of children represented across the ten perspectives and some impressive artistry on display, it’s confusing and disheartening that a film centred around the art of storytelling does not have a cohesive story in its foundation. Magic Beach is a film that asks children to make friends and follow their dreams, but the movie itself may struggle to find a following of its own.
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