Andrew Stanton’s beautiful, beguiling “In the Blink of an Eye” follows disparate characters across three distinct time periods – in primordial times a family of Neanderthals (led by Jorge Vargas and Tanaya Beatty) endure harsh conditions along a leafy coast; in contemporary New England a pair of eggheads (Rashida Jones and Daveed Diggs) fall in love; and in the far-flung future a space colonist (Kate McKinnon) is tasked with populating a new planet.
Each of the characters’ journeys are etched in sadness; tragedy befalls them all but also helps shape them into the people they become. And the way that Stanton (and his editor Mollie Goldstein) flicker between each storyline and time period, brings the characters closer together – and the audience more invested in both the individual narratives and the enterprise as a whole.
Whether or not this works for the audience remains to be seen (it just premiered at Sundance but doesn’t arrive on Hulu until Feb. 27), but if you are attuned to its peculiar wavelength, “In the Blink of an Eye” is quietly affecting. By the end, you’ll either be rolling your eyes or wiping away tears (for me it was the latter). Either way, it’s hard not to be impressed by Stanton’s earnestness and ambition; even at a relatively modest scale, it’s clear you’re in the hands of a visionary.
“In the Blink of an Eye” starts slowly, even methodically, as each time period is richly established and the characters deliberately defined.
It’s perhaps hardest to grasp the caveman family (who are the first characters to be introduced), if only because their communication isn’t subtitled; it’s all muffled grunts and sideways gestures. You can feel Stanton, who made Pixar’s largely wordless masterpiece “WALL•E,” reveling in this section, as he intercuts the actions of the family with punchy shots of the nearby forest or a wave crashing into the rocks.
In the present, Claire (Jones) is a workaholic academic at an ivy league university who resists the advances of her attractive colleague Greg (Diggs). She’s working on a recently excavated skeleton of a Neanderthal, which immediately tethers us to the caveman storyline, but who she has dug up is one of the mysteries that’s teased throughout the movie’s runtime. This section at first resembles a more traditional romantic comedy, but when Claire it taken away from Greg thanks to a serious family matter, it becomes more complicated and more relatable, particularly if you’ve ever had a long-distance relationship that could only be measured by the time in-between phone calls and FaceTimes.
And in the future, Coakley (McKinnon) struggles to continue and complete her mission, despite some major setbacks, with her only friend on the ship being an AI copilot named Rosco (voiced by Rhonda Rees). Again, Stanton made us fall in love with a wheeled trash compactor in “WALL•E,” so it’s not exactly surprising that he makes a relationship between a human woman and an operating system (dramatized by an unblinking blue circle) emotionally compelling.
Much of the fun of “In the Blink of an Eye” is the way in which Stanton toggles between the different narratives and timelines; thematically they often resonate with one another, but he also has images and sounds repeat across the different timelines, sometimes bleeding from one section to another. An alarm clock, for instance, in the present, becomes a system warning on the spaceship in the future. And it’s Stanton’s braiding of images and ideas that gives “In the Blink of an Eye” an unpredictable, elemental power.
Eventually, more concrete connections between each section are revealed, along with some pontificating about what makes humanity so special – that it’s the brevity of life that makes it important and, of course, no matter where we are in the world or in time, we’re probably more alike than you imagined.
Depending on your sensibilities, this can sound incredibly trite. You might already be squirming. But it’s a testament to Stanton’s skill as a filmmaker that he is able to so deftly overcome some of the script’s shortcomings and present something that makes you feel to such an impressive degree. Sure, you have heard these sentiments before. And the movie’s structure might remind you of other movies, like Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey,” the Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer’s “Cloud Atlas,” Darren Aronofsky’s “The Fountain,” or, more recently, Robert Zemeckis’ severely underrated “Here,” but there’s something about the way that Stanton presents the narratives of “In the Blink of an Eye” and its unfathomable lack of cynicism that sets it apart.
Stanton is a foundational member of Pixar. He was the second animator hired by the fabled animation studio, back in 1990, and has been its most steadfast creative voice. In addition to “WALL•E,” he co-directed “A Bug’s Life” and made “Finding Nemo” and its sequel. He has written on every “Toy Story” movie and has advised on every other Pixar movie. But after his live-action debut “John Carter,” made with the same rigor and experimentation that he had applied to his animated features, failed to connect with critics and audiences, Stanton turned inward. He regrouped, eventually directing episodes of television (including memorable episodes of “Stranger Things,” “Better Call Saul,” “For All Mankind” and “3 Body Problem”), all while tending to his Pixar duties.
2025 seems like a culmination of these efforts, with the more experimental “In the Blink of an Eye,” his second live-action feature, opening just a few months before “Toy Story 5,” which is almost guaranteed to make more money than anybody can count. The two movies, taken side-by-side, serve as a testament to his restless creative spirit and his willingness to try new things. You can feel the sadness that followed “John Carter” in “In the Blink of an Eye,” along with that hopefulness and optimism that largely defines his animated output.
“In the Blink of an Eye” might not be what you’re expecting, but it’s a singular experience, beautifully told and hugely impactful, embroidered by Thomas Newman’s twinkling score and fine performances from his off-kilter cast. (McKinnon, in particular, is a standout, in part because it’s so leftfield.)
The movie’s big-heartedness is what makes it so essential and, potentially, to those not enamored by its oddball charms, so cloying. But given the state of the world, with each new day bleaker than the last, a movie that is this unabashedly sweet is something that should be treasured, protected and celebrated, not frowned upon. That is always true, no matter the timeline.
