A Review of Inkheart
As a fanatical book lover, I thought many things about the recent film release Inkheart sang sweetly to my psyche. Scenes of extensive private libraries have always made my heart race and my palms sweat, from the glorious collection in Disney's Beauty and the Beast to the gorgeous bookstore serving as stimulating background to the bad acting of Salma Hayek in Desperado.
So any story line that elevates books--and the writing of books--scores significant points from the outset.
Inkheart is hunky Brendan Fraser's latest vehicle to play the rugged, earnest adventurer. His other recent flicks, the third installment of Mummy mayhem (in which there were no mummies) and the latest devastating mis-adaptation of Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth basically depict Fraser in the same role--a smart, loveable guy who just happens to be good looking, apologetically witty and prone to wander into large-scale conflicts that require his unlikely intervention to resolve.
In fact, the author of the book Inkheart, German writer Cornelia Funke(Thief Lord and Dragonheart), reportedly sent Fraser a signed copy with the words, "Thanks for inspiring the character." So there you go.
But what's not to like about Fraser in these playful roles? In no way does one get the sense that he, as an actor, is doing much more than having a blast himself. He has the right and the luxury to carve out his acting niche along whatever lines he desires. And we have the right to be entertained--or not--by him.
I choose to be entertained. I have seen a few films in which Fraser played a "heavy," the one that comes to mind being The Quiet American and he handles these roles well, but I have to confess to enjoying watching Fraser enjoy himself in these less-than-serious roles.
Before I say more about the film, I should mention that I have not read Funke's book upon which the film is based. So I cannot say whether the book does a better job navigating the difficult plot waters than the film.
The story concept is fantastic--that certain people, known as Silvertongues, have a gift with reading aloud that bring characters literally alive. The film opens with a wonderful image as Fraser reads the story of Little Red Riding Hood to his infant daughter. There is a flash, a moment of disorientation, followed by a velvet red cloak floating out of the sky and landing on their clothes line. "Some are not aware of their gift," the narrator says.
I will not give anything away. The build-up is terrific, with Fraser's character Mortimer and his now teenage daughter being pursued by a character he had inadvertently "read out" of a story many years before--the same time time his wife mysteriously disappeared. We have mystery and motive, all driving the story along and making us thirsty for more.
I wish the rest of the story had played out quite as well. I have loved Helen Mirren as an actress since I saw her as Morgana La Fey in Excalibur in the '80s. There is no doubt she is one of the greatest British film actors of all time. But she doesn't handle light stories as well (the National Treasure sequel is another example.) I wince when I see this powerhouse try to squeeze herself into single dimensional, near comic roles.
Jim Broadbent only needs to walk onto the set to make a film better, and his role as the author of the wayward book at the center of the story is performed as convincingly as ever.
I knew i had seen the mother in another movie, but couldn't at first recall. Then I saw that it was Eragon and I felt sorry for her. She is given the unenviable task in this film of not being able to say much. But she does it well.
Paul Bettany (whose name I can never remember) is superb as Dustfinger, the mysterious character in pursuit of Mortimer and his daughter in the film's first act. Dustfinger gets one of the movie's best lines, when he thrusts a finger into his creator's face and says, "You are not my God. You do not determine my fate."
And then there is Andy Serkis, of Gollum fame, who plays the villain. And that is where things begin to go a little awry for me. Not that Serkis does poorly in his role as Capricorn, merely that the role just did not quite live up to its billing. As the film moves swiftly into its second act, partly centered on the villains, it just never seems to coalesce. Whereas the protagonists have plenty of clear motivation, the villains seem to be villainous characters in the mold of Captain Hook. One never knows whether they are serious about being bad guys or are just sort of filling a literary job description.
As a children's story, one should not be too harsh, I suppose. But I wonder whether the story idea was too big for its child-size skin. I will have to read the book to tell for sure. The momentum of the central idea creates so many intriguing "what if" speculations, one cannot help but be a little disappointed that so few of them seem to be explored in the film. A tighter premise might have contributed to a tighter film script.
Nevertheless, the film does not fail to entertain, and for that it merits praise above what digital disasters like The Spirit failed to achieve.
