Can one make a post-apocalypse seem delightful? That isn't exactly what happens in WALL•E, but, in order to describe its odd and thoroughly original tone, it's a start. Taking place in a distant future where Earth seems to have been abandoned, we follow a lone little junk-compacting robot named WALL•E (voiced by Star Wars technical crew alum Ben Burtt) as he wanders about the leftover detritus of our architecture and culture, accompanied only by a friendly cockroach. Eventually, he meets a visiting probe robot named EVE (voiced by Elissa Knight), and he's able to show her his collection of artifacts, which range from a Rubik's Cube to a VHS recording of Hello, Dolly! Their speech is rather limited, so much of their actions are carried in pantomime.

The overall effect is endearing, but also eerie because of what we can discern from the setting. The sense of emptiness is profound, so the juxtaposition of Chaplinesque comedy, occasional musical cues, and this specific science fiction scenario that's usually utilized for gloominess and loneliness appears bizarre. But it works incredibly well, becoming a model for how we, as people, tend to generate our own happiness -- by concentrating on little pleasures that are minor or insignificant on any given large scale. Think locally, and one can smile; think globally, and the same one can despair.

Before long, WALL•E becomes an adventure in space -- somehow, the pair of robots eventually wind up on an immense traveling spaceship, and it is here where secrets about what happened to the Earth are revealed. The implications and concerns of the movie can be interpreted as environmental, but it's also more far-reaching than that. It has a lot to say about human wastefulness and laziness, but this message isn't delivered in your face. The movie creates an amazing achievement in being able to express concerns strictly within the confines of its story. It never breaks mold -- what it has to say about humanity remains the backdrop; what its timid but determined protagonist goes through is always in the foreground.

I can never say enough good things about the folks at Pixar, and I'm always amazed by how they can top originality with more originality. Neither Ratatouille, their last film, nor this one features what one might call a conventional story, and neither do they rely on  conventional concerns and themes. Or rather, if those themes could be perceived as conventional, they are presented with emphasis on entertainment and character involvement. I loved how Ratatouille was about art, a decidedly adult concern; here WALL•E is also more for the grown-ups than the kids. Children can get the physical humor, and pantomime comedy is universal, but only adults will get a sense of horror behind the shenanigans on the space station, the poignancy of WALL•E and EVE's "love" story, and all the sadness underneath the thrills and laughs. It wouldn't be a stretch to call the movie pitch perfect.

Pixar is no longer just the modern master of animated films -- they are the masters of studio films. They are making what I've longed for so long into a reality -- cartoons for adults that thrive in the USA. They don't pander to audiences; instead they make just enough concessions to insure their films are family-friendly while otherwise offering entirely entertaining stories that are deep-reaching in criticism and philosophy. And they wield their particular medium -- computer-generated animation -- as wizards wield wands.  WALL•E, among other virtues, is beautifully designed and acted. Director Andrew Stanton, who last worked with fish in Finding Nemo, pays attention to movement, motion, and expression, sacrificing dialogue for recognizable body language. This is not just referring to anything art performance-like, either -- the little gag showing the massage robot (I think it's a massage robot) pummeling the guard robots ends with a perfect little "punch"-line that gets a big laugh simply by its motion and timing.

Pixar's continued deft combination of craft and humanity, of impressive visuals and alternating wild and gentle humor, makes WALL•E the latest in their line of home runs. It almost feels wrong to say they  have a "formula," for that word conjures thoughts of soul-less assembly lines. Yes, they do have a formula, but it's one that includes treating the audience with respect, and creating the understanding that they are communicating their own concerns with us eye-to-eye. Along with everything else, WALL•E happens to be effective science fiction, warning us of dangers to come if we ignore the beauties of culture, social interaction, and the very planet we live on.

(Released by Walt Disney Pictures and rated "G" as suitable for all audiences.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com