The Spider Woman (1944)

Posted on January 15, 2012 by badblokebob

2011 #96
1944 | Roy William Neill | 60 mins | DVD | U

It’s the second season finale of the brilliant Sherlock tonight, so what better time to post a review of another Holmes adaptation that’s based in part on the infamous The Final Problem…

The seventh feature starring Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr John Watson is the first since Hound to drop Holmes’ name from the title and, at under an hour (59 minutes 33 seconds in PAL, to be precise), is the shortest yet.

It’s previously been asserted (in this blog’s comments) that The Spider Woman is “one of the best of the series”, and it’s certainly a strong effort. Screenwriter Bertram Millhauser (who also wrote the previous two films, and would go on to pen two more) skillfully mixes elements from various Conan Doyle tales — while I spotted two or three, Wikipedia says the full list includes The Sign of Four, The Final Problem, The Adventure of the Empty House, The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot and The Adventure of the Speckled Band.

As they’re combined here, the story sees Holmes fake his own death to help tackle the Irene Adler-esque titular woman, apparently his intellectual match, who’s somehow causing a spree of suicides. Several of these borrowed elements — the faked death and The Woman — lead to some delicious scenes, such as when Holmes reveals he’s alive to Dr Watson, offering one of those occasions where Bruce’s comedic rendition of the role actually works; or when an incognito Holmes meets the woman, who is actually aware of his true identity. Indeed the woman, played by Gale Sondergaard, is so good that they crafted a sequel around her, albeit Holmes-less. I’ve not seen it and don’t own it, so I’ve no idea what that does for its quality.

The mystery itself is solid enough, but that’s not necessarily the point of these Holmes adventures. They’re not play-along puzzles like an Agatha Christie adaptation, where there’s a set of definite clues and a finite number of suspects, but rather exciting tales that whip you along their incredible path — adventures indeed. You can certainly see the (deliberate) tonal link between these ’40s films and the modern-set Sherlock, or indeed the pair of Robert Downey Jr. films.

At the halfway point of the Rathbone-Bruce films (it’s only taken me four years to get this far), the series is still producing exciting, good-quality re-arrangements of Conan Doyle’s works. And I’m assured there’s more to come. Fantastic.

Beyond the Pole (2009)

Posted on December 24, 2011 by badblokebob

2011 #91
David L. Williams | 87 mins | TV | 1.85:1 | UK / English | 15

Adapted from a cult Radio 4 series, Beyond the Pole is a British mockumentary about “the first carbon neutral, vegetarian and organic expedition ever to attempt the North Pole”, starring Stephen Mangan Off Green Wing and other recognisable faces.

In case it wasn’t clear, this is a comedy. Unfortunately it’s only mildly amusing rather than laugh-out-loud hilarious. Worse still, it’s occasionally a bit thumb-twiddly as the inevitable plot points inevitably happen. In fact, it goes a bit OTT with implausibility for my liking. The pair of polar ‘explorers’ are attempting this with no training at all? Their UK base/contact is a caravan in a field with some satellite dishes on top? The performances and shooting style are too grounded to sell this kind of thing to me. Most of the film is asking you to believe that this is, while clearly a comedy, still plausible, but some of these points don’t quite gel.

Even after that, it still goes a bit awry as the story heads into the third act. Events get too serious for the farcical comedy it started out as. I believe it’s possible to make that transition from comedy to meaningful, serious drama — often making the dramatic section all the more effective because it surprises you — but Beyond the Pole doesn’t manage it at all well.

On the bright side, it doesn’t go on about the green agenda too much, which I’d presumed would be half the point. While I’m all for informing people and reminding them Something Must Be Done, battering viewers round the head with it when they’re expecting to enjoy a nice comedy is perhaps not the best way to go about it.

It’s also impressively realised. Its apparent low budget led me to assume we’d, a) see very little of the actual trip, and b) what we did see would be all inside-a-tent and green-screened. But no, it was really shot on floating sea ice off the coast of Greenland, and it makes for a highly effective polar landscape. Good work, filmmakers.

Sadly, being impressed they managed to get some good locations and a recognisable cast (Mark Benton! Helen Baxendale! Alexander Skarsgård! (Random.) Lots of newsreaders from the BBC, Newsnight, Sky — clearly someone had favours to call in) does not make up for the lack of serious laughs in a comedy. Oh well.

Beyond the Pole featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2011, which can be read in full here.

How to Train Your Dragon (2010)

Posted on December 3, 2011 by badblokebob

I saw a trailer for How to Train Your Dragon at the cinema a few months before its release. Having never heard anything of it, I thought it looked to have basic animation and a too daft tone. I wrote it off, expecting the kind of animated movie that would be slagged off as a Pixar-wannabe… and probably still land an Oscar nomination because there never seem to be many contenders for the animated feature award. Imagine my surprise, then, when it garnered endless positive reviews and a huge box office. What?

My impression from the trailer was massively wrong. How to Train Your Dragon is, as everyone else has likely already impressed upon you, brilliant.

For one thing, it quickly becomes apparent that it’s magnificently animated and designed. What might appear smooth and simplistic at first glance actually has a lot of detail in full motion. A wonderful world is evoked with the design and the detail, of the humans’ lives and of all the different dragons. Even better is the cinematography (do you call it that in an animated film?) It’s genuinely beautifully shot. Roger Deakins — the Coen brothers’ regular cinematographer, not to mention all his other work and nine Oscar nominations — is credited as “visual consultant” and I guess that paid off.

Numerous action sequences are properly exciting, and well spaced throughout the film — it dives in at the very start and doesn’t let up. Intelligently, they’re used to build and reveal character rather than just provide an adrenaline boost. That applies to the supporting cast and the dragons as much as our hero. The flying sequences are particularly brilliant. This is one of the few made-for-3D films I’ve seen in 2D where I actually wished I’d seen it in 3D.

As noted, it skilfully finds room for characterisation and humour amongst all the battling and flying. While most of the story focuses on the relationships between Hiccup and his dragon Toothless, and Hiccup and his father, it deftly and quickly sketches in all the major supporting roles. That’s a sure hand in writing and direction, able to build whole characters and pay off their role with only a couple of lines or actions here and there. Plus, making you genuinely fond of and care for a cartoon computer-rendered fictional creature is no mean feat, and Toothless has all the personality to achieve it. Avatar wasn’t close to managing that.

Some plot beats and relationships are familiar and therefore predictable, but despite that they’re carried off with such emotion and humour that it really doesn’t matter. If you pause to think then you know how pretty much everything will pan out (though it may manage one or two surprises), but when you care about and like the characters, as I think you will here, that all becomes the stuff you hoped would happen rather than the stuff you roll your eyes at.

One thing, though: Scottish Vikings? And how did all the kids end up with American accents? There’s certainly some American Kids’ Movie Logic at work in the voice casting.

In the end, then, How to Train Your Dragon is the antithesis of my initial impression: gloriously animated and filmed (rendered?), with a perfectly pitched tone that manages humour, exciting action, soaring flight sequences and an emotional connection to its characters, both human and dragon. This would thoroughly deserve to beat most Pixar films to that Oscar, so what a shame it was up against the equally glorious Toy Story 3.

How to Train Your Dragon merited an honourable mention on my list of The Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2011, which can be read in full here.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)

Posted on November 26, 2011 by badblokebob

Disney’s attempt to launch a second franchise in the mould of Pirates of the Caribbean, this time based on a long-running series of computer games, seemed to sink without trace last summer. Despite that failure, it’s not all bad.

To give a quick idea of its quality, Prince of Persia is analogous to an average entry in the Pirates series, only without the craziness and humour provided by Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow. This probably explains Persia’s relative lack of success: Pirates began with an exceptionally good blockbuster flick, and has since coasted on goodwill and affection for Depp’s character; Persia has neither of these benefits.

There’s not much to get excited about here, however. Like On Stranger Tides, it suffers from a surfeit of ideas that are equally undeveloped. Even though this shares no writing credits with that film, it’s what it most reminded me of. There’s an adventure story that wants to reach an Indiana Jones-esque style but fumbles it. It often feels like the genuinely important bits of plot and character development are quickly brushed over, instead spending inexplicably long stretches on barely-relevant asides. It jumps about like a loon too, feeling like a lot of linking scenes or establishing shots have been excised for whatever reason.

There are some good action beats, but there’s also plenty of disorientatingly-edited, CGI-enhanced sequences, as per usual for the genre these days. For the former, see for instance Dastan’s climb up the wall into Alamut (or whatever it was called), or the knife-thrower-on-knife-thrower battle near the end. For explosions of CGI, see the massive logic-shattering ‘sand surfing’ sequence in the climax. Visually they’re clearly trying to evoke 300, but without going quite so far in the stylization stakes. Also worthy of note is the opening, the latest CGI-enhanced rendition of the opening sequence from The Thief of Bagdad and Aladdin: Westernised Middle Eastern streetchild-thief chased acrobatically through streets of Middle Eastern Town by Middle Eastern Guards. (None of the above pictured.)

As this is a Hollywood version of the ancient Middle East, naturally everyone is a Westerner with deeply tanned skin who speaks with an English accent. Everyone in the past had an English accent. Jake Gyllenhaal’s accent is actually very good, in my opinion; Gemma Arterton’s voice doesn’t grate as much as it seemed to in the trailer (I have no problem with her in any other film, but there was something about the Persia trailer that made her sound… weird). That’s probably the best that can be said for either of their performances. They’re not bad, just not in anyway endearing. Dastan makes a fairly bland hero — I think he’s meant to be something of a cheeky chappy, but they didn’t get close to achieving that — whereas Arterton has the role Keira Knightley would’ve played five years ago. I think she’s meant to be a Strong Independent Princess but, much like Dastan, we’re told we should be inferring it rather than seeing any evidence of it.

Alfred Molina has the best shot at creating a likeable supporting role, but it’s a part that resurfaces for no good reason, acts inconsistently, and all his best elements are cribbed from better films. Like most of the film, then. An attempt is made to conceal that Ben Kingsley is the villain, and it might have worked if anyone else was in the role — heck, I almost believed it even with him… but only “almost”. Like most of the story, it’s all a bit stock-in-trade. It’s good to take inspiration from other action-adventure classics, but it also means that it all feels very familiar. The time travelling dagger, the film’s truly unique point, is too powerful as a plot point, meaning rules have to be established that limit its use… which means that the one unique element doesn’t actually turn up very often.

Prince of Persia is riddled with flaws, it would seem. Its characters are unmemorable, their relationships unbelievable; its plot is disjointed and, while always followable, still half nonsensical; the other half is by-the-numbers predictable; its action sequences occasionally shine, but are largely whizzily edited or CGI burnished (though, in fairness, they’re far from the worst example of either problem). I should probably dislike it quite a lot, yet while part of me says I should rank it lower than even the Pirates sequels (owing to the lack of charming characters or any trace of humour), looking back I kind of liked it. It’s not Good, but it is sort of Fine, and it’s by no means bad enough to inspire genuine hatred.

Plus, the sword-and-sandals milieu makes a bit of a change. I know we’ve had plenty of swords-and-sandals-flavoured movies in the wake of Gladiator, suggesting this is hardly unique, but whereas they’ve all unsurprisingly shot at the Gladiator mould, Persia is aiming for the PG-13 adventure-blockbusters style. It’s a shame that it’s not better, because said milieu and some of the talent involved could have produced a film in the vein of quality of, say, The Mummy, if we’d been lucky.

If you’re less forgiving than me, knock a star off. Or if you think you’d like the Pirates films better without Depp’s silly captain, maybe leave that star on.

Holiday (1938)

Posted on November 22, 2011 by badblokebob

aka Free to Live / Unconventional Linda

2011 #79
George Cukor | 91 mins | TV | 4:3 | USA / English | U

Holiday stars Cary Grant as an everyday chap who falls in love with a girl who, it turns out, is a wealthy heiress type… but who it also turns out may not share his views on the future. Her kooky sister, played by Katharine Hepburn, on the other hand…

You already know how Holiday ends, don’t you? You may not even have heard of the film, but having read those two sentences, you know. I knew. We all know. Unless there’s a twist, of course. Sometimes there is, especially in older films where they weren’t as slavishly concerned with hitting demographics and all that. So I won’t say if there’s a twist or not.

What I will say is, I loved Holiday. I’d never even heard of it before it turned up on BBC Two in a week of similar stuff, like His Girl Friday (which I’d seen, and reviewed), Bringing Up Baby (which I saw, and reviewed) and It Happened One Night (which is still sat on my V+ box). I’d heard of all of those, but not this, but I’m glad I watched it by association.

It doesn’t have quite the hilarity of His Girl Friday, but I thought it had more substance than Bringing Up Baby (as much as I enjoyed that too). I suppose you would say it “spoke to me”, what with Grant’s character’s desire to go off and do something he wanted to do instead of get locked in to the dull corporate world, and the family’s insistence that a sensible city job where he’d earn a fortune is more appropriate. I can’t say I’m in the same situation — I wouldn’t mind the chance of a highly-paid job, if you’ve got one going spare — but I could relate well enough.

Holiday is not the funniest of comedies — though I did think it was funny — instead hitting a level of dramatic/character interest that I didn’t predict. I think it’s more a personal favourite than an objective Great Film (but then, one might argue, what is?), so the best I can do is encourage you to seek it out if this kind of film from this kind of era is your kind of thing.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010)

Posted on November 10, 2011 by badblokebob

While the final Harry Potter film continues to obliterate records at box offices around the world, I finally caught up on the penultimate instalment in the phenomenal fantasy series. It’s Part 1 of 2 at the end of a series that’s become increasingly serial, rather making this the Two Towers of Harry Potter films: it doesn’t begin, and it doesn’t end either.

Indeed, at times Deathly Hallows Part 1 is too heavily reliant on knowledge of the previous films, or even, for full detail, the novels. It’s understandable — you’d be a fool to take this as your first Potter film — but at times it could work a bit harder for those who don’t live & breathe Harry Potter; it could help along those viewers who could do with a little memory jog here and there. The pay off, however, comes in lots of neat or resonant callbacks across the films — Harry reminding Umbridge it’s wrong to lie, for instance — as well as within the film itself — Hermione obliviating both her parents and some Death Eaters.

Despite the series knowledge required, the well-established Potter team have created one of the series’ best instalments here. Long gone is the cartoonish frivolity of Chris Colombus’ opening pair of Children’s Films — this is Potter at his darkest, and not just in terms of the cinematography. Film franchises have come under fire for incessantly describing each new entry as “darker”, and none more so than Potter, but at least it’s deserved: this is a grim, oppressive world, where our trio of heroes are completely removed from the safety of school and on the run as fugitives. It rather negates author J.K. Rowling’s original conceit of having seven books each covering a school year, but hush, let’s overlook that (everyone else seems to).

Technically the film is well executed. Harry Potter films have had action sequences before, but few stand comparison to the bevy we’re treated to here: an in-flight fight/chase as a gang of heroes escape Privet Drive; a fast and claustrophobic duel in a cafe; the much-trailed run through a forest (interestingly realised without any score). It’s not quite an Action Movie, but if any Potter were to lay claim to that genre it could well be this one.

Elsewhere, several deftly constructed montages set the scene for what’s going on in the wider wizarding world while Harry, Ron & Hermione are on the run in secrecy. Similarly, the film massively cuts down on the novel’s interminable sequences of the trio wandering around Britain pondering things endlessly. Consequently the halfway point of the novel — Harry and Hermione visiting Godric’s Hollow at Christmas (if I recall correctly) — occurs under two hours into this 4½-hour adaptation. It’s one of the film’s best sequences though, the snow-coated village setting and almost dream-like pace evocative of both the magic and melancholy of Christmastime; its ultimately nightmarish events reminiscent of wintry fireside horror tales.

Talking of exceptional sequences, the animated one can’t go unmentioned. It’s wonderfully done, inspired by old silhouette animations, though achieved in 3D animation here, which is a pity. It’s still beautiful to look at, and it’s very fluid, but I can’t help but feel it would’ve been even more effective if they’d gone all out and done it in 2D.

Visually the whole thing is, of course, dark and gritty. I was always glad the films went for a ‘real world’ aesthetic rather than the ‘Saturday morning cartoon’ stylings of the books’ jacket illustrations, but the first couple of films still had quite a bright, primary-coloured palette. As I said earlier, everyone’s talked about each film bring thematically darker to the point that it’s become a cliché, but it’s true of the production design and cinematography too. There were a couple of scenes here where I literally couldn’t see what was going on.

Yates spoke of making this one like an “urban thriller” — and, having helmed the original State of Play, he’d know — and I think they have, more or less, in a mainstream fantasy movie way, achieved that feel. There are abandoned and decrepit industrial sites and burnt-out trailer parks to really push the feel, but it bleeds out into all the fantasy settings too. It’s cold, grey, bleak, tough — all appropriate for the dark times the characters find themselves in, if not so much for the pre-teen audience the initial books and films were suitable for. Themes of Nazi/Stalinist-style oppression are played up in the story (trials of those whose “blood status” is in doubt; listening to the radio for news of loved ones; Bellatrix’s torture of Hermione) and production design (the muggle-crushing new statue in the Ministry; the art style of anti-mudblood propaganda leaflets; the uniforms of the Ministry guards), but it’s subtle enough that it doesn’t batter you around the head.

The cast are, as ever, really just pawns in a bigger game. There are nonetheless some nice character beats — the dancing scene, for instance, which uses a Nick Cave song (in a kid’s film! Excellent). Anyone in the cast under the age of about 25 struggles to convince at one point or another, but the adult cast are as exceptional as their pedigree would suggest, even in their brief cameo-sized roles. Most impressive is CG character Dobby: Deathly Hallows takes him from being the most irritating all-CG character since Jar Jar Binks, to one who has a heroic and moving death at the climax of this film. That said, it was — much like the death of Sirius Black in Goblet of Fire — more effective in the book. However filmic the deaths Rowling writes may feel, the filmmakers seem to struggle to convert them as effectively to the screen.

And so, the ending — which isn’t, because we’re in the middle of the book. So how well does it work as, y’know, an ending? Quite well, as it turns out — indeed, one might even compare it to something like Empire Strikes Back: the gang are reunited and free of evil clutches (for now); the quest for the Deathly Hallows and the speculation of their meaning is all set up to continue in the next film; plus there’s an appropriately dramatic death. But this one was never truly designed to be an ending, so if you think about it too much it begins to work less well than if you just accept it. Still, having your villain acquire the MacGuffin we’ve been told is all-powerful and indestructible makes for a decent cliffhanger.

It’s interesting to consider that the ending was originally designed to be earlier, when Harry & co arrive at Malfoy Manor and Bellatrix sees his scar. It was moved it find an emotional connection for the ending, and I think it works. If it had ended where planned it would feel like a cliffhanger-ish point in a longer work; while there’s undoubtedly some of that in how it ends now, it’s a bigger, more dramatic point. A change for the better, then.

(As an aside, I think the order of the cast in the end credits reveals who has the best agent and whose could’ve worked harder. Have a read and think about the relative size and importance of their roles.)

Deathly Hallows Part 1 is, indeed, Part 1; but despite that it functions rather well as a film in its own right: there’s story development, character development, action sequences, and even a semblance of an ending. In terms of Being The Middle Instalment, it’s at least as successful as any other I can think of.

The final Harry Potter film, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, is released on DVD and Blu-ray in the US tomorrow, Friday 11th November, and in the UK three weeks later, on Monday 2nd December.

True Grit (1969)

Posted on November 4, 2011 by badblokebob

I’d been hanging on to this to post with a review of the Coen brothers’ remake, but as that’s not happening any time soon and I’ve had this waiting around for months (I watched it in February!), the fact it’s on TV a couple of times this week makes now seem a good a time as any.

Having been remade to Oscar-nominating effect by American Cinematic Gods the Coen brothers, the first adaptation of Charles Portis’ Western novel True Grit was around plenty (on TV, Blu-ray, etc) back in… February, I guess. The story in all three versions (which might sound obvious, but is never guaranteed when it comes to adaptations) concerns a 14-year-old girl, Mattie Ross (here, Kim Darby), whose father is murdered by his hired hand, so she sets out for murderous revenge, recruiting Marshal Rooster Cogburn (John Wayne) to help because she’s heard he has the titular attribute.

What this means in filmmaking terms is the potential for a couple of great lead performances: the strong-willed, old-headed little girl and the rascally old lawman. Indeed, the remake earnt Oscar and BAFTA nominations for both of these roles, while this earlier version saw Wayne win the Best Actor Oscar and Darby receive a BAFTA nomination. This was the only time Wayne won an Oscar, and you can’t help but feel it was probably a career award as much as anything. As fun as Rooster Cogburn is, he doesn’t feel like a particularly exceptional character or a particularly exceptional performance from Wayne.

Darby, on the other hand, gives a great performance. Mattie Ross is a great character — plain speaking, knows her own mind, ready & prepared for anything… and isn’t ever shown up either, instead besting everyone’s low expectations of her. Darby was 21 at the time but is completely convincing not only as a 14-year-old but as a 14-year-old who’s wise beyond her years. Hailee Steinfeld’s performance in the remake has been much praised, but it has a lot to live up to from this.

The story is told pacily, which is nice, and despite being a Western has the feel of not being too much a Western, if that makes sense. I have no problem with Westerns, but for some reason some people do, and maybe something like True Grit would persuade them otherwise in the first instance. That said, I didn’t like the score much — it’s too often inappropriately genial for my taste — and the climax is a bit dappy — John Wayne defeating four men by riding at them with the reins in his mouth while firing two pistols? Seriously?

Still, those are minor points. True Grit is good fun, both exciting and funny in correct measures, with two entertaining lead performances. And I haven’t even mentioned the rest of the cast, including screen luminaries like Dennis Hopper and Robert Duvall, all of whom give their own even if they’re less notable alongside Wayne and Darby. The Coen brothers’ remake has a lot to live up to.

True Grit is on More4 tomorrow at 1:05pm, on More4 +1 at 2:05pm (funny that), and again on More4 at 10am on Friday 11th November.

The Damned (1963)

Posted on October 28, 2011 by badblokebob

aka These are the Damned

2011 #31
Joseph Losey | 91 mins | TV | 2.35:1 | UK / English | 12

Sometimes, at least for me, films improve in retrospect. My opinion while watching may be different to when I look back days, weeks, months, or even years later. Films I thought I disliked may benefit from a kind of nostalgia; some films just gain something from extended reflection, even if that isn’t conscious; films I underrated may improve when I gain perspective on their qualities relative to other works; in some cases, it’s just that I’m getting older and wiser.

There are several films reviewed on this blog that I think would warrant a different opinion if I watched them again now, but The Damned is the most recent example. I think if I’d got round to this review any quicker it would be less enthusiastic than what I’m about to write.

That said, it’s not as if I’ve had a complete turnaround of opinion: The Damned is an interesting film, certainly, but one that is perhaps somewhat undercut by its age; a kind of ’60s SF that would probably require a distinctly different approach if you were to attempt to make it today. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it has that kind of disconnect from reality that’s markedly ’60s. In his review for MovieMail, James Oliver notes that “despite his background in low-budget genre flicks, Losey was at heart an art house director, keen to communicate big themes and ideas”, which perhaps explains some of this.

It’s also oddly constructed (perhaps due to studio interference — see Oliver again), starting out as a kind of small town British gang B-movie, with some eccentric and apparently irrelevant characters turning up in asides, before segueing into a nuclear-age SF parable. As a post on IMDb’s boards put it (yes, sometimes those are worth reading — it astounds me too), The Damned is “continually in flux — just as you think you’ve got it pegged as one genre of film, it becomes another.” Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but unusual.

Once the film hits its genre stride, it shows that it is (to borrow further from that IMDb post) “true science fiction, in that it’s about ideas, and a commentary on current culture, and where that culture may be leading. In other words, science fiction for adults”. Obviously that’s the “current culture” of 1963, but in that sense it perhaps offers an insight into the thoughts and attitudes of the time, and the kind of inhumanity that might be reached in the quest to survive nuclear war.

My mixed reaction to The Damned leaves its score in the middle of the board, but I’d encourage those with an interest in intelligent science-fiction or ’60s genre films to give it a go.

The Princess and the Frog (2009)

Posted on October 25, 2011 by badblokebob

With box office and critical acclaim sliding, Disney abandoned traditional 2D animation for their significant films in the early ’00s, switching to the computer-animated 3D that was doing so well for Pixar and Dreamworks. I don’t know if it helped the box office any, but it didn’t help with critics — it wasn’t the medium that was at fault, it was the storytelling. Notoriously, as soon as Pixar’s John Lasseter was put in creative control of the whole of Disney he instituted a return to 2D animation. The Princess and the Frog was the much-heralded first film after this change.

The resultant film is very enjoyable — not because it’s in 2D animation, but because it’s just good. Set in ’20s New Orleans, it retells the well-known story of a prince turned into a frog who needs a kiss to return to human form in typical Disney style: expanded, funny, contemporary, with songs. And that largely works. OK, so no individual song is exceptionally memorable, but their jazzy style suits the film down to the ground. There are no bad or dull ones (not something that can be said of even some classic Disneys, in my opinion) and all are certainly entertaining while they last. Though it’s a little brief, the villain once again gets the pick of the bunch. I’m biased that way though; others may well disagree.

It’s also a bit long. A tighter opening and, especially, journey through the bayou in the middle would’ve improved it. While I enjoyed sequences like the crocodiles, guiding fireflies or frog-hunters when considered in isolation, there are just too many stacked up back to back for my taste. The voodoo material seems like it might be a bit on the scary side for kids, though maybe that’s just because too many children’s films are sanitised these days — I agree with the regular argument that it was better when films and TV aimed at kids included a bit of a scare or sadness, rather than more modern entertainment’s attempts to keep them wrapped in cotton wool for too long. The death of a character in the climax also sits in the same vein.

One thing that can’t be faulted, however, is the animation. It’s beautifully done: backgrounds are gorgeously painted, character animation is fast and fluid. There are some stunning individual shots, like when the fireflies become involved in creating glorious lighting and patterns in the bayou, for instance. There’s a nice use of different styles when appropriate too: a blocky art deco rendering of Tiana’s dream restaurant during Almost There; a splash of something hallucinogenically psychedelic during Dr Facilier’s number.

Many other Disney films have stand-out sequences; things to latch an appreciation on to. The best often have several of these stacked up, in some cases non-stop from start to finish. The Princess and the Frog is missing anything like that (though some may grab on to Almost There or, like me, Facilier’s song), but what it has instead is a very consistent tone, where the musical numbers fit effortlessly into the flow of the story rather than stopping the film for a showpiece. This is also true of the very best entries in the canon — Beauty and the Beast, for arguably the greatest example — and while I don’t claim Princess and the Frog reaches such giddy heights, I think its consistency makes it entertaining as a whole film, rather than as an up-and-down collection of varying-quality set pieces.

Not Disney’s best film, then, but one I believe has come in for an unfair amount of flack. I really liked it.

~~The Princess and the Frog is on Disney Cinemagic today at 5:40pm and tomorrow at 4pm.~~

Tangled (2010)

Posted on October 21, 2011 by badblokebob

Disney’s 50th animated feature is Rapunzel in all but name, for no particularly good reason. It seemed to be met with universal praise on its release last year, critics hailing it as a return to Disney’s previous quality after a run of lacklustre releases, in particular the underwhelming return to 2D in the year before’s The Princess and the Frog.

Well, to get that comparison immediately out of the way, Tangled isn’t as good as The Princess and the Frog in my estimation. I’m not sure why it seems to have been more widely praised — it’s solid and good fun, but I thought Frog had more going for it.

Which isn’t to say Tangled is bad. It’s funny, which is its biggest asset, and exciting at times — as usual, the highly moveable camera of CG animation adds fluidity, speed and excitement to the action sequences, making them one of the high points.

It’s not all good and shiny though. The setting — a comedic-ish fantasy-kingdom world — can come across a bit like lightweight Shrek, lacking the anachronistic postmodern real-world references that made that film zing. Worse, the songs are distinctly unmemorable — I’d forgotten some of them by the time it came to their own reprise. A gang of thugs singing about their dreams is the best thanks to its comedy, but I couldn’t hum or sing any of it for you now. I especially lament the lack of a decent villain’s song, a number I usually particularly enjoy. It has one, I suppose, but it’s one of the weakest examples I’ve ever heard.

Tangled isn’t bad by any measure, but I don’t feel it should be the praise-magnet it became. There are certainly better Disney musicals — it can’t hold a candle to those; and there are better funny fairytales too — but at least it holds up as a solid addition to that sub-genre.

The UK TV premiere of Tangled is on Disney Cinemagic this Sunday, 23rd October, at 5pm and 9pm.

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Category Archives: adaptations