The Adventures of Tintin

With no afternoon plans and a movie pass that expires at the end of the month, I opted to go see The Adventures of Tintin which had been on my radar for months (thanks to an extensive ad campaign). I'm really curious how many Americans like myself had little to no knowledge of the film's source material prior to the movie promotional campaign kicking into high gear. I had never even heard of intrepid boy reporter Tintin and his adventures until I started reading about what massive fans director Steven Spielberg and producer Peter Jackson are of the apparently somewhat legendary comic book series by Belgian author and artist Herge (Georges Remi). So that's probably why I came away from this film with somewhat mixed feelings -- it was good, just not the exhilarating, escapist adventure that I was expecting given the enthusiasm and filmic pedigree of the team that brought the story to the screen. I suspect Tintin is a movie made by fans of the source material that will resonate most strongly with fans of the same -- but I am very much open to hearing other views. :)

Tintin (voiced by Jamie Bell) is a boy wonder reporter, somewhat in the mold of Jimmy Olsen or Lois Lane (please, don't throw stones at my comparison -- I work with what I know, people). :) He has a penchant for adventure and is never without the accompaniment of his crazy-smart, faithful dog Snowy (an adorable terrier with a weakness for unguarded sandwiches). In an unspecified but very European 1930s outdoor market, Tintin purchases a model of the lost ship Unicorn. When two individuals promptly attempt to purchase the ship from him, including an unsavory fellow with the delightful name of Sakharine (voiced by the one and only Daniel Craig!), he senses a story -- an opinion that is solidified when his apartment is trashed and the ship is stolen, leaving behind an overlooked scroll with a cryptic clue, referencing at least twin models (and by extension additional clues).

In his quest to uncover the secret of the Unicorn, Tintin joins forces with the alcohol-swigging Captain Haddock (voiced by Andy Serkis), the sole surviving descendant of the original Unicorn's captain and the unwitting target of Sakharine's machinations. The quest to retreive all three clues necessary to discover the location of a treasure missing for centuries takes the unlikely duo (well, trio if you count Snowy, and personally I would) from Europe to Morocco and back again, dodging bullets and danger along the way.

This film took me back to my preteen infatuation with The Young Indiana Jones series, and any comparisons drawn between Tintin and Young Indy are to my thinking quite apt -- both young men hungry for adventure, with conveniently unlimited funds with which to travel the world (ha!), and a penchant for stopping baddies in their tracks. But personally there was a spark missing that made it somewhat difficult for me to "connect" with Tintin, and I think that lies in the medium of performance capture 3D animation. Now the format and style of filmmaking has come a long way since The Polar Express, but despite its realism there is still something that strikes me as soulless about the animation -- the faces and expressions often appear "flat" to me, an effect perhaps exaggerated by the realism of the clothing, hair, etc. Now I'm not trying to throw Bell under the proverbial bus -- I think he is a fantastic actor -- but in comparing his performance as Tintin to 3D performance capture veteran Andy Serkis, Tintin seems a bit flat.

That said, I really enjoyed the world this film created, very evocative of Indiana Jones's globetrotting adventures, and reminscent of movie serial adventures from the 1930s with its spirit of never-say-die adventure and optimism. The detail is incredible, and I found myself more than once distracted by the texture of clothing, the subtle alterations in a character's skin tone, a breeze blowing through hair, or the sheen of perspiration on Haddock's brow as he (unwillingly) weans himself off the bottle midway through the film. I also have to note Doctor Who and Sherlock veteran Steven Moffat's script contributions, which given my history with the man's work I suspect is greatly responsible for much of the film's humor. And John Williams delivers another impeccable score, alternating cues of high adventure with a whimsical, francophile-inspired themes that hearken back to the movie's 1930s serial style and time period.

I'm definitely intrigued see the planned sequel, particularly since it will be penned by Anthony Horowitz (FOYLE'S WAR!!!). For a grey Sunday afternoon's entertainment, The Adventures of Tintin was an enjoyable introduction to a previously unknown hero, a throwback-style adventure, where the hero relies on smarts and ingenuity to save the day and land the story of a lifetime. :)

War Horse

War Horse was one of my most anticipated films of the holiday season. Much like the noble animal from which the film takes its name, this movie has a flawless and impressive pedigree -- based on the beloved novel by Michael Morpurgo, directed by Steven Spielberg, packed with well known British acting talent, this story of a boy and his horse set against the backdrop of a world at war is guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings. And for the most part, it works. The one glaring factor working against this film is its length. Clocking in at two-and-a-half hours, the film is at least a half hour too long. Told in a mostly episodic style, the length, combined with the narrative "chapters," results in a meandering movie that misfires when it strays too far from the core conceit of the story -- the extraordinary bond between Joey the horse and his boy, Albert (Jeremy Irvine -- after seeing Irvine in this film, I'm really looking forward to his turn as Pip in Mike Newell's big-screen adaptation of Great Expectations). That's not to say the movie is a wash -- far from it. But Spielberg's reluctance to tighten the on-screen storytelling does the movie no favors.

But let's talk about what works. At a livestock auction Ted Narracott (Peter Mullan), a poor, hard-drinking Devonshire farmer with a gimpy leg -- a souvenir of his service in the Boer War -- sinks his family's precious savings into the purchase of a thoroughbred colt, all in order to pique his landlord Lyons (David Thewlis). Unknown to Ted, his son Albert had been eyeing the horse from afar and is thrilled with his father's purchase, promising to train the animal himself and christening him Joey. And so the groundwork is laid for an extraordinary friendship -- these two become everything to each other, and that faith and trust in each other is what enables the pair to conquer mountains (or, as is the case in the film, plow a rock-strewn field). But when the crop fails, the only way to save the family farm is to sell Joey to the army, now preparing to head across the channel to Europe thanks to the recent declaration of war.

Before I touch on Joey's wartime experiences, I have to say that I think what interests me most about this film, and what works best, is the relationship between Ted and Albert. THIS is something that I wish had been explored in greater depth. It's obvious that Albert is devoted to his family, but Irvine shades his performance with jus the right touch of youthful frustration and shame. Frustrated with his father's drinking, with his constant struggles to provide for his family, Albert like so many of us at one point or another just doesn't get his father, sure he can do better. It isn't until his mother Rose (Emily Watson) reveals the cost of Ted's war service that we get an inkling of what made the dreamer the drinker he is today. Ted, for his part, wants to do better, wants to be more, but he's spent so long repressing his Boer experiences he doesn't know how, I think, to come out of that protective shell. Mullan's performance is really quite powerful in its restraint.

Through Joey's wartime experiences we witness the best and worst of humanity, all the more starkly drawn because our guide, the constant throughout each vignette, is an innocent animal. In my opinion the best aspect of this "second act" of the film are the war scenes the bookend Joey's experiences -- the beginning, when he's trained as a cavalry horse, one of a noble company full of honor and ideas about how this war will be fought, little realizing the crushing blow to come that will strip away those ideals and along with them, so very many lives. And the end of the war, full-blow trench warfare when Joey, and the men around him fighting are thrust, quite literally, into the middle of hell on earth. I am sure some will disagree with me, but I could've done without Joey's brief respite at the French Grandfather's (Niels Arestrup) farm with the horse-loving granddaughter Emilie (Celine Buckens). The forward-moving narrative slowed to a crawl during this scene, and the grandfather's later appearance, solely in order to throw a convenient wrench into Albert's attempts to buy back Joey, felt a little too contrived and unnecessary.

The advent of the war brings several familiar faces to the screen, namely Benedict Cumberbatch as the ill-fated Major Jamie Stewart and Tom Hiddleston as Joey's first soldier-owner, Captain Nicholls. While I love Cumberbatch (thank you for Sherlock), this sequence was all about Hiddleston (my appreciation for him has been well documented on this blog). He is ADORABLE. I loved how seriously Nicholls took his promise to Albert to watch over Joey, and it broke my heart when he was killed in the group's first charge. The concluding scenes of the war also featured several familiar faces, from Liam Cunningham as the Army doctor who treats Joey's wounded leg, to Pip Torrens as Major Tompkins, in charge of overseeing transport back to England after the Armistice, to Eddie Marsan as the hard-nosed Sgt. Fry, whose bluster hides a heart of gold.

As is the usual with Spielberg's period films, the attention to period detail is astounding. Every frame of film is a miniature work of art, from the sun-drenched, idyllic Devon countryside to horrifically realized trench scenes. There's a great deal of restraint in the war scenes -- this is not on an R-rated Saving Private Ryan level -- but nevertheless those sequences chilled me. I couldn't help but think of my father's stories about one of his uncles, who was a machine gunner during World War II, and who, much like Albert's father, could never talk about his wartime experiences. This was a war that changed everything, how the world fought and viewed combat, and was in many respects a great equalizer between the aristocratic officers and the "commoners" they commanded. I loved how the latter is realized in the understanding Albert reaches with David Lyons (Robert Emms), the previously insufferable son of his family's landlord, after saving his life in the trenches -- it was an extraordinarily well-done moment.

As the film ended, I found I wasn't focusing on Joey specifically as much as what Albert's homecoming would mean to his parents. Joey, Ted Narracott's one-time folly, the horse he purchased in a fit of pique -- that folly brings his son home -- and that may have been the film's most powerful moment for me. Because while so much had remained unspoken between those two characters, Albert's survival signals the possibility of a healing and a deeper understanding and appreciation between father and son. Whether or not the novel suggests that, whether or not that was intended I don't know -- but that to me is one of War Horse's most powerful moments. A father's folly brings his son home -- "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps" (Proverbs 16:9). Though overly long, War Horse is a beautifully rendered film with many powerful moments -- definitely a worthwhile big-screen experience. (And film score fans -- John Williams has delivered yet another stunner with his work on this film -- that man is amazing.)

Summer of Hitchcock: Dial M for Murder

Spoilers...

I’m two weeks late to joining My Friend Amy’s Summer of Hitchcock blogging extravaganza, but I am finally getting the chance to catch up. I’ve needed a good excuse to re-watch some of my favorite Hitchcock films. Last week’s move was Dial M for Murder, starring Grace Kelly, Ray Milland, and Robert Cummings. Dial M has always been one of my favorite Hitchcock films – off hand I’d say it’s solidly in my personal top five. It’s been several years since I’ve watched this movie, so while I remembered the basic storyline the presentation and details all felt very “fresh” to me.

First off, a bit about the story…

Margot (Grace Kelly) is married to washed-up former tennis player Tony Wendice (Ray Milland), and has been having an on-again, off-again affair with crime novelist Mark Halliday (Robert Cummings). She’s burned all of Mark’s letters but one, and that one was stolen several months back. There were blackmail threats, but the promised threat of revealing her indiscretion to her husband never materialized. Little does she realize that Tony is the blackmailer, and he’s been plotting the perfect murder to get his hands on her money. Let the game of cat-and-mouse begin…

This movie is based on a play by a Frederick Knott, and it shows – but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Yes, the movie feels staged, but the performances are terrific across the board and action is so tightly plotted that the “stagey” aspect of the movie works really well. There’s an absorbing amount of drama going on at the Wendice apartment. I would love to see this story on stage! I also have to comment on how I love the use of color in this movie. Between the richness of the color and the smartly paced action, the movie feels reminiscent of the drawing room style mysteries Agatha Christie plotted so well.

I’d forgotten that this movie was originally filmed in 3-D. Generally speaking I’m not a fan of watching movies in 3-D, watching programs in 3-D always seem to give me a headache. However, since I was reminded of the 3-D technology used when filming the movie, I was very conscious of how each frame of film was presented. Hitchcock was very deliberate about filming in “layers,” so to speak. There are certain moments – especially when Tony’s stooge, Swann (Anthony Dawson) is trying to kill Margot and her hand just reaches out in desperation from the screen to grab something, anything in an attempt to defend herself – and finds a handy pair of scissors. (Death by scissors is surprisingly neat…just sayin’…) Thankfully this movie is filmed so well that you aren’t distracted by the 3-D formatting, or lack thereof when watching it in “flatscreen.”

Since there are really only three players in this drama (four if you count Inspector Hubbard played by John Williams), the movie wouldn’t work nearly as well as it does if any one of their performances faltered. In my opinion Grace Kelly did some of her best work in the three Hitchcock films she appeared in, Dial M being the first (followed by Rear Window and To Catch a Thief). Her opening scene sets the stage – wearing white she’s a dutiful, affectionate wife greeting her husband at breakfast, and moments later she’s a passionate cheater looking drop-dead gorgeous in a flaming red gown. She’s a great balance of fire and surprising innocence in this movie - an arresting screen presence that would only grow more powerful in her next two pictures with Hitchcock. On to the husband – it always gives me a start seeing Ray Milland playing this despicable, smarmy role. My first image of Milland was formed by watching his performance in The Major and the Minor, and because that movie is such an old favorite, and he plays such a sweetheart in it, seeing him play a coldly calculating blackmailer feels like a sort of betrayal. LOL! When it comes down to it, I think my strong reaction to this performance is a mark of the quality of Milland’s acting in this film. Of the three leads I have the hardest time taking Robert Cummings seriously – he’s so boyish when compared to Milland that I don’t quite buy him as the third party in an extramarital affair. However, he gains some good guy points when he starts to figure out Tony’s plot. And since Tony was obviously going to kill Margot anyway for her money, Mark proves to be a much better, more sensitive and supportive romantic interest for Margot who goes from being an adulteress to a wrong wife (nice done to satisfy the cultural mores of 1954 BTW). I also have to comment on how much I love John Williams’ performance as the Inspector. He was such a classy actor, and here he manages to imbue the Inspector with just the right balance of smarts, saavy intuition, and humor.

I’m so glad I got a chance to revisit this classic. You can purchase the DVD of Dial M for Murder here. It comes with two short, but interesting featurettes: “Hitchcock and Dial M” and “3D: A Brief History.”