INKHEART
   
STARRING:
Brendan Fraser, Paul Bettany, Jim Broadbent, Helen Mirren, Andy Serkis,
Rafi Gavron, Sienna Guillory
2008, 106 Minutes, Directed by: Iain Softley
Rightly
or wrongly, Inkheart feels very much like a casualty of New Line
Pictures' recent implosion. It holds the sense of something much grander at its
core: a big-budget tent pole in the vein of
Harry Potter or
The Lord of the Rings. Somewhere
along the line, ambitions got scaled back . . . which would be fine if it didn't
entail a subsequent drop in storytelling quality as well. And for a movie as in
love with storytelling as this one, that proves fatal.
Most of the funding seems to have gone into the cast, who
provide Inkheart with many of its best moments. Sadly, star Brendan
Fraser makes only minimal contributions, which is a shock considering how well
he suits material such as this. He plays Mo, the evasive father of a little girl
named Meggie (Eliza Hope Bennett). The two travel all over Europe as a part of
his job repairing rare books, which serves as cover for the dark secret he
carries with him. The movie refers to him as a "silvertongue," which means that
he can bring literary characters to life simply by reading a few passages from
the pertinent book. But for everything he pulls out of the page, something (or
someone) gets sucked in as a replacement. He found this out the hard way when
his wife (Sienna Guillory) disappeared into a third-rate adventure novel named
Inkheart and the book's black-hearted villain Capricorn (Andy Serkis)
popped into our world. Now that same villain hunts him to the ends of the earth,
determined to use his silvertongue powers for selfish gain.
Not only is the concept truly marvelous (rising from Woody
Allen's short story "The Kugelmass Episode" as much as from Cornelia Funke's
source novel), but the visual potential it represents could send the most jaded
moviegoer into fits of glee. Inkheart's best moments give tantalizing
glimpses of the possibilities: a menagerie containing Crete's minotaur, Oz's
winged monkeys, and the ticking crocodile from Peter Pan; a rogue fire
juggler (Paul Bettany in one of his better roles) tossed out of the novel and
now hounding Mo to send him back; and the book's original author (Jim Broadbent)
so overjoyed at seeing his creations brought to life that it doesn't bother him
when one of them holds a knife to his throat. Director Iain Softley holds such
notions delicately in his hands, brimming with the chance to achieve something
truly wondrous with them.
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"The story itself feels dreadfully out of whack . . ." |
Unfortunately, it all falls apart long before it can get
there. The problems are small but numerous, starting with the film's curiously
dull look. Though shot in the Italian Alps and set mainly in ancient castles and
picturesque villages, the film stock gives it all a musty, mundane look
unbecoming for such fanciful leaps. The editing fails to find a proper rhythm,
patching scenes together in a coherent yet shambling manner that struggles to
hit its stride. Special effects are minimal - and indeed, the film could
conceivably work well without them - but when they do appear, they don't have
the first clue what they should be doing. Indeed, the story itself feels
dreadfully out of whack, with superfluous threads spreading in all directions
and wonderful figures such as Meggie's batty great aunt Elinor (Helen Mirren)
squandered from the get-go.
The worst part is that much of Inkheart screams out to
be liked. Though clunky around the edges, the central idea holds true from
beginning to end. Who wouldn't want to toss a group of disparate literary
figures together in order to save the day? What author hasn't realized that his
characters don't always do what he wants them to, and how much fun could we have
seeing one of them tell him so face to face? Early scenes speak passionately of
the magic in books and the way good storytellers can transport their readers to
another world. Inkheart wants to convey that love so badly - and the
talents involved clearly share that desire with every fiber of their being -
that its ultimate failure crushes the spirit in ways a more cynical effort never
could. Its countless missteps earn nothing but scorn even as its wonderful
intentions make us ashamed to voice them. But fairy tales need more of a
fighting chance if they're ever going to work, and Inkheart ultimately
proves incapable of providing one.
- Rob Vaux
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