Hearing a strange rumbling in the Hundred Acre Wood, Piglet and Pooh set off in search of a Heffalump.

Roo the Day
The movie begins, appropriately, with its head in the clouds, reminiscent of an innocent time when we actively sought to discern pictures on that airy canvas. Down below, the inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Wood awake to the frightfully foreign footprints of — well, such a threatening, intruding behemoth could only be one thing — a Heffalump!

Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and Eeyore — each in their own way — are somewhat frenzied for what to do, but Roo seems genuinely excited to set out on an expedition to find the fabled beast. Rabbit, busily looking important, co-opts Roo’s suggestion and organizes a search to catch the first-ever Heffalump. Rabbit excuses Roo from this heroic adventure because, naturally, it could be fraught with danger. Tigger consoles the poor lad, saying, “You can’t argue with a word like ‘fraught’.”

Fortunately there are other words in the movie, encouraging and exuberant words like “kerplunk” and “rumple-doodle.” Tucking him into sleep with some bedside reading, Roo’s mum, Kanga, wonders with her little one if the expedition would really be so terrible? (Apparently, the marsupials in the story are the only ones with a hint of reason, in contradistinction to the overly emotional placental mammals. Perhaps this is why Owl is noticeably absent; even for a bird, his head would be screwed on too straight.)

Here we see the first crystallization of the “A” story of the film — the notion that others aren’t as awful as we might presume, and that we should do our best to get along. The “B” story emerging is that children grow up oh-so-fast, but, as Kanga advises Roo, it can’t happen all at once; it takes its time. Roo simply wants to “grow up now,” because he is certain that he could catch a Heffalump if given a chance.

In the book, even if there was a glint of gleeful curiosity to catch a Heffalump, they lived only in the realm of one’s fearful and excitable imagination. In the movie, however, they are very, very real, and our friends from Pooh Corner are exhorted to “be brave” in the face of dire uncertainty. It is time to save their homes — their land of milk and honey! (Especially the honey.)

The following morning, in advance of the official expedition, wearing a paper helmet and an armful of rope, Roo sets off to Heffalump Hollow — a part of the forest adjoining the Hundred Acre Wood — to catch a peek, at least, of anything heffalumpish that may be lurking there. The troop of Pooh, Tigger, Piglet, Rabbit and Eeyore follows shortly after, and as they cautiously manage their way across the dividing fence, a strange idea dawns on them. Both sides of the forest seem, unexpectedly, just about the same. So far!

The movie hits all of its beats in a well-paced way, and soon enough Roo happens upon a Heffalump youngster. Roo incredulously wonders, “Are you sure you’re a Heffalump? Where are your horns and spiky tail? Heffalumps have names?” Why, yes, quite so. In this case: Heffridge Trumpler Brompet Heffalump the Third — or, “Lumpy” for short.

To be sure, Lumpy looks like he was born ready to be a plush toy. (The inner executive child: “Think of the ancillary sales!”) As with Kanga, the stitching is apparent on the character’s seams, making him right at home with the kinds of dolls that inspired the original Pooh stories.

By a believable twist, it turns out that Lumpy is just as afraid of the Hundred Acre Wood as the inhabitants there are of Heffalump Hollow. Where, by the way, did he learn such nonsense? It’s just one of those things that everybody knows, y’know? There is a creature that bounces around on its tail and smashes things. Another one that shakes all the time. And a third animal with pointy ears who bosses everyone. Though there is some truth to it, Roo promises there is nothing scary in his nook of the woods, and even Rabbit can be pleasant once you get to know him. “But I don’t want to get to know him,” Lumpy says, unconvinced. “Do I have to?”

Roo and Lumpy, yearning to grow up and to find their own voice (their own calling), are both beyond the borders of their parents’ protection and concern. As their friendship takes hold, what Roo perceives firstly as a nondescript Heffalump becomes personalized as Lumpy, and, in proper time, affectionately as “Lumpster.” Roo thus tells Lumpy that he is not captured anymore.