“We had such potential, such promise,” says a dying scientist in a voice over at the beginning of 9, a CG-animated film and the second of three films this year to prominently feature the numeral ‘9.’ The potential/promise referred to by the scientist is humanity’s, who are long dead by the time 9 begins. It can also refer to a lot of movies, with fancy trailers and interesting ideas that promise a wonderful film-going experience and then utterly let you down on release day. Fortunately, 9 isn’t one of them. As to whom exactly this film will appeal to outside the Tim Burton faithful and grown-up animation appreciators, I’m not sure.

Yes, 9 is one of those films that slipped through Hollywood’s demographic driven zaniness and exists as a piece of art without demands of expectations. It’s too scary for the younger kids, to whom anything animated is invariable promoted towards; some of the teens out there will be bored because there’s not an overwhelming amount of action; and unless they are so whimsically inclined, the adults just might get bored. Fortunately, I fall through the demographic cracks, as both a critic and a movie appreciator. Or at least I’d like to think.

9 is a bursting visual feast to behold. One of those movies you can probably watch again and again in order to find all the hidden details. What started as an impressive short film that even got Academy Award recognition, which in turn resulted in big name producers like Tim Burton fighting for the chance to foster a feature, reaches a true fruition here. Similar to what happened with Monster House a few years ago, we have a project with a unique visual sense and a certain flare for making you able to identify with typically inanimate objects, be they possessed houses or so-called “stitchpunks.”

The term “stitchpunk” being an obvious derivative of “steampunk,” a unique subgenre of science fiction that puts advanced technology back in a time that would never have had it; the works of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells could be retroactively be considered steampunk, for example. A “stitchpunk” is basically a rag doll given life by a scientist seeking to preserve some measure of humanity after the death of mankind in the wake of a war against machines. The head machine, a kind of bastard child of the sentinels from The Matrix and the tripods from War of the Worlds, sleeps dormant in its evil factory when awoken accidentally by No. 9, the final (and perhaps most important) of the stitchpunks.

Interestingly, the nine stitchpunks (all named by numbers one through nine) are not the salvation there creator intended. Indeed since they’re the last vestigial of humanity it’s fitting that they represent the full spectrum of human failings and capabilities. No. 1 (Christopher Plummer) leads a group hidden in a church, as to not attract the attention of “The Beast.” Meanwhile, No. 7 (Jennifer Connelly) lives in the wilds of the broken down city trying to carry on the good fight against the remnants of the former enemy. No. 6 (Crispin Glover) seems driven mad with a memory of a device he doesn’t know the function of, but knows it’s important. No. 5 (John C. Reilly), meanwhile, seems to have grown weary of No. 1’s command and anxious follows No. 9 (Elijah Wood) in exploration of their inherited world.

But for such highly adult themes and characterization, 9 does at times like to play it safe. Too safe for my taste actually. The film kind of launches into the main story and keeps up the momentum until the end credits, and it only occasionally pauses to take stalk of the richness of this world that’s been created. But I was however captivated by it just the same. The world of 9, though bleak and perhaps frightening, was startlingly realized. There’s sumptuousness to this film that’s engrossing, and to be able to get so caught up in the plight of a bunch of burlap voodoo dolls is a wonder. The real shame is that we don’t get more 9’s, (as in the movie not the stitchpunk) and like the film implies, that maybe our loss.