Despite being overstuffed and overproduced, Emma Watson is by far the best special effect in Bill Condon’s live action Beauty & the Beast (B-) as the luminous leading lady who enlivens the fairy tale proceedings with enchanting radiance. Attempts to color outside the lines of the 1991 animated musical’s story and to lovingly re-create iconic classic sequences are both a mixed bag: the opulent “I want” song called “Belle” is simply smashing, awash with propulsive joy and resplendent color, but by the time an awkwardly unappetizing “Be Our Guest” is served up by curiously stilted anthropomorphic antiques, it’s more of a test of endurance than the whimsical showstopper that played out as a cartoon. A star-studded cast is squandered; set pieces seem limited to one village, one castle and one CGI forest; and the awkwardness of an inter-species romance feels a little strange when everyone isn’t rendered in line art. Luke Evans is quite good as Gaston, and there’s some new back story that provides intrigue for those concerned this will simply be a shot for shot remake. It’s good source material, so the original Alan Menken/Howard Ashman tunes are a delight (the new Alan Menken/Tim Rice song snippets aren’t as good). See it mainly for Watson’s game take on a Disney heroine (better still, see this actress in Perks of Being a Wallflower). Otherwise, there’s not much here that wasn’t there before.
Co-directors John Clements and Ron Musker have animated quests with more Herculean tasks, drawn crooning crabs making a bigger undersea splash and created caves with greater wonders than the adventure afoot in Moana (C+), their mostly adrift Disney Polynesian epic wannabe. It’s quite enchanting to look at, at least for the first act; and newcomer Auli’i Cravalho brings lovely life to the brave and modern title character. Coupled with a goofy demigod convincingly acted and sung by Dwayne Johnson, the heroine embarks on an ill-conceived odyssey marked by listless villains, average banter and misbegotten mishaps. There’s one good song (of seven) played several times in the film, a propulsive anthem by Hamilton‘s Lin-Manuel Miranda called “How Far I’ll Go,” but alas its prescient title begs the answer “too far” or “not far enough.” The most inventive use of tattoos since Memento and a creative battalion of Mad Max style pirate ships cannot lift the story to the gravitas to which it sometimes aspires. Bogged down in bluster and with story conceits which fail to differentiate it in the Disney kingdom canon, the film is barely better than its makers’ Treasure Planet and The Great Mouse Detective. The co-directors have found unexpected box office success but might have been better off leaving this journey in the bottle.
Steven Spielberg earns a C+ for The BFG (aka The Big Friendly Giant), and this family film is decidedly a GNAS (grower, not a shower), largely languid for nearly two thirds of its length and then unexpectedly rising like a wonder of Gulliver’s wanderlust to its rather lively and even mildly emotional climax. Child actor Ruby Barnhill is charming as a plucky orphan whose awkward custodial Brexit leads her into the hands of the titular tall man, a vegetarian loner charmingly played in unnecessary motion capture by Mark Rylance. Together their friendship blossoms and adventures ensue, complete with Roald Dahl-isms of gobbledegook dialogue that are alternatively delightful and laborious. After some tedious battles with nine unsavory carnivore giant villains and the dreariest depiction of dream-catching imaginable this side of James Cameron’s Pandora, the filmmakers endeavor to discover their stride late in the narrative. The bloated balloon of hideous production design, awkward effects and gloomy atmosphere is finally punctured in a comparatively brisk finale that almost redeems the film. There’s a really imaginative moment when the title character mixes up a dream from his nocturnal cannery, and the way it comes to life would make an inspired short film. This enterprise is closer to the Hook and Tintin side of Spielberg’s unusually uneven family film oeuvre, and one can’t help but remember that he and late screenwriter Melissa Mathison peaked in this genre 34 years ago with their collaboration on E.T. Unfortunately, despite flashes of grandeur, this lugubrious lark is far from his towering achievements.
Despite clear technical craft in creating simulated forests and talking (sometimes singing) animals, Jon Favreau’s The Jungle Book (C) is dramatically inert. Swinging wildly in tone and staking the weight of its storyline on a pint-sized protagonist of limited range, the film falls flat in moving emotions while it swirls episodically through remake facsimiles of Disney’s own animated feature. It squanders most of its visual effects wizardry in the beastly congregations of the first reel only to be followed by a long wasteland of coasting on mildly amusing Bill Murray voice-over work as a lazy bear. I’m sure there will be a man cub fan club for the action of this Kipling claptrap, but it fell staggeringly short of surprises and wonder in my book.
Director Craig Gillespie’s true sports story Million Dollar Arm (B-), isn’t likely to please viewers eager to see the thrills of athleticism on the screen (heck, even Stallone’s arm wrestling movie racks up more credibility on that scoreboard); but after a lethargic start, this formulaic film finds its footing as a surrogate family drama and a bit of a redemption tale about a fallen sports agent getting a second chance. Jon Hamm’s search for new baseball pitching talent from cricket players in India and the subsequent fish-out-of-water training and scouting in California and Arizona hold only modest suspense or intrigue but are rendered enjoyable by the considerable charms of Madhur Mattal and Suraj Sharma. Lake Bell is also a pleasant presence as the tenant in Hamm’s carriage house who may just hold the key to his steely heart. Hamm and ensemble are batting average until some fairly nice travelogue moments abroad and a late-reel rally of sentimental delights. There are no baseball games in the movie and no credible training montages – just lots of fast throws for velocity points. This hardly adds up to riveting cinema. Mostly it’s a lesser mash-up masala of Jerry Maguire, Moneyball and Mr. Baseball. Although only sporadically successful, the film has just enough contemporary edge and international flair to push the Disney brand forward just a bit while still providing a safe bet for family viewing.
Despite buzzy awards season mentions, John Lee Hancock’s Saving Mr. Banks (C+) is a tepid, often dull melodrama about the clashes behind the making of Mary Poppins that would be more at home on Lifetime than the silver screen. Tom Hanks in cheerful mode as Disney and Emma Thompson as frigid writer Travers make the most of their stock roles, but a lethargic storyline punctuated by tedious flashbacks of the author’s tragic kingdom doesn’t add up to a spoonful of much.
Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee’s animated Disney movie Frozen (B+) mixes up the princess formula with some unexpected twists and largely enchanting results. This Scandanavian storybook adventure is filled with fresh ice effects, compelling heroines, charming sidekicks and winning songs by Kristen and Bobby Lopez. Kristen Bell and Idina Menzel’s power ballads and a snowman’s serenade to sunny climates – by Book of Mormon‘s Josh Gad – are among the highlights.