Andrew Stanton, who wrote and co-directed �Finding Nemo� - has never given Lasseter or anyone else a reason to doubt his abilities. Far from it. But he�s out there on his own with �Wall*E� - no co-writers, no co-director. This is his baby, and it blinks, thinks and mimes way ahead of the curve when compared to other Disney/Pixar metallic offspring, particularly the clumsy designs of Lasseter�s own �Cars� stars. Where Lightening McQueen was anything but cuddly, and way too dependent on text to make his feelings known, and the exceptionally funny and beautifully animated B.E.N. got lost in a dearth of dialogue and a storm of (me thinks too harsh and undeserved) criticism that left �Treasure Planet� a beached whale at the box-office, Wall*E is an animator�s dream in both design and ability, unencumbered by too much talk or an excess of bravado.

He�s perfectly proportioned, almost a mechanical Mickey in rectangles, with an authentic �cartoon� anatomy. His connective hoses, rubber treads and telescopic limbs have the flexibility to go beyond their basic confines of volume and rigidity, allowing the character to expand and contract like the classic rubber ball. This is still animation, and not physics, and its principles are unapologetically adhered to in moving the essentially flat graphic across his alien landscape. Look closely at the animation in the trailer that aired last night, and you�ll see little �cheats� that greatly enhance the performance without ever detracting from the character�s being made of metal alloy, not marshmallow. He collapses and cranes, eases in and out and follows through like a pencil rendered pro. And those eyes, those soulful and brilliantly positioned eyes. The tear-drop shape of his �brow� or �cranium� � which is delightfully and clumsily over-sized in proportion to his torso and his stubby little arms and hands - adheres perfectly to the well-known appeal that such infant anatomy holds for even the most hard-hearted observer. They set off those binocular irises with a slim and unobtrusive elegance, like a Robert Kulicke frame wrapped around a Margaret Keane orphan. They respond to every thing around them, and reflect back every emotion pouring out from inside. Honoring the graphic shorthand perfected in classic newspaper comic strips, and adhering to the tenets of both appeal and readability that have been ignored so blatantly by other studios, our hero squints with an unspoken but obvious nervous laugh, followed by a mute *gulp* and a near whisper of �just ignore me� as he wipes away his tracks, backing off-screen in an exit worthy of Chaplin. Pure animated magic.

For all the mounting anticipation of what Madison Avenue had in store for ad-watchers on this most costly of all commercial time-slots, the most audible, genuine and heart-felt laughs coming from crowded living rooms across the nation last night were when organic life was rescued from soulless technology by a piece of hardware with real heart. Proving, once again, that the best animation is that which relies on what a character is doing and not what a character is saying. From Les Clarke�s Mickey in the �Sorcerer�s Apprentice� and Eric Larson�s Figaro in �Pinocchio�, to Nik Ranieri�s Meeko in �Pocahontas� and Mike Gabriel�s Lorenzo, pantomime has always been the best test of the animator�s art, and Wall*E is no exception.

Both Tom Coughlin�s Giants and John Lasseter�s artists showed respect for tradition last night. It may have come in the clinch, but it was born of hope and crowned with glory. In Bowl Games and Hollywood, you can�t ask for much better.

-- Rhett Wickham