It’s a mere 168 days until Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows hits the streets on July 21. I’ve already preordered mine, and am shipping it to the Star (the paper is put together on Saturday mornings), so even if we move between now and then, I still have my order locked in.
Happy, happy!
Now this is the kind of movie that I hoped “Lady in the Water” would be: Magical, mysterious, incredibly stylish. One of the best movies that I’ve seen in years.
“The Illusionist
” takes a number of chances that shouldn’t work — How many great movies about the turn-of-the-century Austro-Hungarian Empire are there? And when’s the last time there was a truly great movie about stage magic? — and makes them all work. It even puts a former teen star/sex symbol in the leading female role and then shoots (almost) the entire film in sepia tone and with an early 20th century film vocabulary.
It shouldn’t work, but just like the tricks of Eisenheim the Illusionist, it does, and you find yourself marveling at the results. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot — its twists and “I can’t believe he’s doing that” element are a great part of the fun — but Edward Norton portrays Eisenheim, a stage illusionist whom fate and the forbidden love of a duchess (the surprisingly believable Jessica Biel) puts on a collision course with the violent and amoral crown prince of the empire (Rufus Sewell). The movie is a cat and mouse game between the magician and prince, with the wonderful Paul Giamatti (playing a role very unlike his normal nebbishes) caught in the middle.
“The Illusionist” gets the strongest possible recommendation for all audiences. (Even the sex scenes are 1920s fade-out tasteful.)
I really wanted to like this movie more than I did. I’m a big fan of fairy tales and have long thought that there’s a lot of mileage in updating fairy tales to the modern day and attempting to tell new stories in the vein of a modern fairy tale.
Unfortunately, while “Lady in the Water” makes a run at it, M. Night Shyamalan’s (perhaps understandable) insistence on clinging to the original bedtime story he made up for his children hurts the film. For starters, Shyamalan’s clearly not one of those rare people who can come up with a clever nonsense word off the top of their head, so we’re stuck with “narf,” “skrunt” and “The Great Etlon,” the silliness of which undercut the sort of magical tone he’s trying to create, although their depictions in the film undercut the silliness almost (but not quite) enough not to overcome their awful names.
Secondly, things that can be taken as read in a bedtime story — “and the neighbors all agreed to help Cleveland Heep protect Story until she could be lifted up by the Great Etlon” — are jarring on the screen. Some of these cuts are restored in the deleted scenes, but there are still several outstanding instances of characters referring to bits that didn’t make it to the DVD or into the final version of the script.
Ultimately, the whole thing comes off like a very talented auteur not having someone around he can trust to tell him “no.” It’s the sort of thing that undoes lots of auteurs, but hopefully Shyamalan will be able to get back up after this stumble.
There’s a lot to like in “Lady in the Water,” including solid acting, otherworldly special effects, beautiful cinematography and a magical tone throughout. Unfortunately, it’s done in by the very mundane problem of a Swiss cheese script.
A recommended rental for fans of M. Night Shyamalan or any of the talented members of the cast.
It’s tough to follow up a book like Arthur Spiderwick’s Field Guide with, well, anything. So it’s inevitable that this book comes up a bit short compared to that lush book, stuffed full of amazing art in multiple media and wildly imaginative text.
That said, the Care and Feeding of Sprites has a more modest goal — to be a fantasy version of a real world pet care guide — and succeeds at it wonderfully. Writer Holly Black shouldered a lot of the burden with the Spiderwick Chronicles previously, but in Sprites, the book really has to succeed or fail based on Tony DiTerlizzi’s art. (Black’s contributions are strong, but maintaining the mock-serious tone really makes her work a quiet pleasure.)
DiTerlizzi’s sprites run the gamut of shapes and sizes, and all feel as though they could spring from a fantasy world ecology. Plants, insects and even frogs all serve as sources of inspiration and the end results all feel very right.
Part of the book’s high price tag is the heavy glow-in-the-dark poster, which also serves as the book’s cover. Honestly, I would have rather this been a separate product — I’m not sure how well the posters will hold up to serving as a cover on the way to a child’s wall — but it’s gorgeous.
I would recommend this to someone who already owns the Spiderwick Chronicles or Arthur Spiderwick’s Field Guide, which are better books. But this is a fun companion piece for those looking for more insights into the fantastical world around them.
After hearing about it on the radio, I’ve been listening to Tommy Guerrero’s new album, “From the Soil to the Soul.” I can’t find any reviews of the album online, and it’s sort of hard to describe, but I’ve really been enjoying this mellow, mellow album.
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