A little red-haired girl (Francesca Capaldi) has just moved in next door and Charlie Brown (voiced by Noah Schnapp) is smitten. And—for the moment, at least—he is uncharacteristically optimistic about what the future holds. After all, winter for our rotund-headed protagonist hasn’t really gotten off to a great start: that wretched kite-eating tree has claimed another of his fliers, his baseball game is still far, far off the mark, and meanie extraordinaire Lucy (Hadley Belle Middler) still insists on pulling away the football just as he is about to kick it—in other words, the usual Charlie Brown problems. But things could be different this time, he thinks to himself. “I just hope this new kid has never heard of me… It’s not often you get the opportunity to start over with a clean slate.” When it comes time to take a step, however, that rosy feeling quickly evaporates and ol’ Chuck retreats into his habitual shell, struck with dread.

Still, as is his wont, he continues to pine and plan for ways to impress the object of his affection, whether it’s by winning a talent show, a dance competition or writing up a book report for her on a bigger-than-him copy of War and Peace—basically anything at all, so long as it doesn’t involve actually talking to her. He does have some friends rooting for him: there’s the thumb-

sucking, blanket-clutching Linus (Alexander Garfin) always ready with some sage advice, and dear faithful Snoopy (Bill Melendez), of course. But whatever external forces he must counter in his bid to get the red-haired girl’s attention, all that pales in comparison to his biggest hurdle—his own insecurities.

I’ve long loved the Peanuts comic strips, and it’s still the first I turn to when looking up the funnies in the papers. The creator of the series, the late Charles M Schulz, had debuted the comics 65 years ago, but they have a timeless quality about them, just as compelling today as they were in the 50s. “The Peanuts gang was appealing but also strange,” wrote Schulz’s biographer David Michaelis in apiece in TIME in 2000, the year the artist died. “Were they children or adults? Or some kind of hybrid?” It’s that odd but effective mix, of having these little kids voice these unexpectedly mature, often melancholy thoughts, that’s been Peanuts’ trademark, and one of the main reasons for how long the series has endured.

And Charlie Brown himself is the ultimate underdog, the guy plagued by anxiety and a “serious case of inadequacy”, who just can’t catch a break no matter how hard he tries, but who is still willing to keep on trying, over and over again, traits that makes him exceedingly relatable to readers. In this way, Peanuts has managed to capture—through deceptively simple line drawings featuring a group of kids and a big-nosed dog in a generic four-panelled format—a great deal of the everyday struggles and

complexities of being human.

But despite the cloud of existential angst that seems to hover over these strips, there is also warmth and playfulness within, and, of course, sharp jokes.

The new Snoopy and Charlie Brown: The Peanuts Movie, directed by Steve Martino (Dr Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who), demonstrates a lot of love and respect for the source material—expected given that both Schulz’s son and grandson are among the writers. And thankfully, there is no attempt to modernise proceedings inordinately; they are happy to stick to the basics: The gang still plays outside, manual typewriters are still in use and Lucy is still handing out questionable psychiatric advice for five cents—new pastimes and smug contemporary pop-culture references are non-existent here. The film also eschews the trend of inventing a grand, over-the-top adventure for the sake of the big screen and focuses instead on the small stuff—it has a rather loose, episodic feel.

However, while filmmakers have made it a point to mark beloved series touchstones, a few of which have been mentioned above, one senses Schulz’s philosophy has been distorted to some degree—a vital misstep. The problem begins with the characters, hastily sketched and toned down substantially from their print personas, such as Lucy and Linus, two of the strip’s most interesting figures, but who have both been straitjacketed here, reduced to a few unimportant one-liners. The same goes for Charlie Brown, who, though enjoying more screen time than the others, is far less of the worried, despondent failure we know him to be—especially after that ending he’s given.This decision to lighten things up is no doubt part of an effort to appeal to kids, who—let’s admit it—are not exactly used to seeing incurable losers onscreen; indeed most animated children’s fare at the movies generally revolves around a Chosen One overcoming hardships to emerge on top. But it’s a vibe that clashes with Peanuts’ basic worldview—that life doesn’t usually turn out the way you’d

like. When that essential cynicism, that chronic half-emptiness is removed from the equation, it feels almost disloyal to the spirit of the original work.

And at the risk of sounding like a bit of a Luddite, I’d say the problem extends to the visuals as well. The 3D CGI, while well-detailed and

certainly eye-catching, just doesn’t have the same effect as the old

pen-and-ink drawings, the sheer squiggly imperfections of which have becomesomething of a signature. The crooked lines, apparently, were in part a result of an illness that led Schulz’s hand to tremble as he drew, but over time came to represent almost perfectly the self-doubt and ambivalence that were such big themes in the series. While the new film does make an effort to harken back to the 2D days with a few inserts here and there, the soft, plump faces and smoothened edges and textured backdrops don’t hold a candle to the simple, minimalistic, hand-drawn charms of the strips, or even the old films and TV specials. Snoopy’s sequences in the movie, however, are the exception: he is served exceedingly well by the

technology, and his Flying Ace fantasies literally take off—although they do tend to intrude far too

frequently and run a wee bit longer than necessary.

For adults who’ve been fans of Schulz’s strips, Martino’s feature-length adaptation will most likely disappoint, in that it plays it too safe, too sweet, and turns away from the darkly-funny world-weariness that made the series so great. For children, who most likely know of Peanuts more as a brand than anything else, the film will perhaps prove rather stodgy and underwhelming compared to the high-octane adventures they’re generally offered on the big screen these days. So, in trying to please both demographics, the movie fully satisfies neither. Despite its numerous shortcomings, however, itreally could’ve been a lot worse. That might not be much of a vote of confidence, but it’s something.