Review and news hub for movies, music and video games

Movie:		6.0
Picture:		8.0
Sound:		7.0
Extras:		4.0
Score:		6.0

Director(s):	Iain Softley
Writer(s):	David Lindsay-Abaire (Screenplay), Cornelia Funke( Novel)
Starring:	Andy Serkis • Brendan Fraser • Eliza Bennett • Helen Mirren • Paul Bettany • Sienna Guillory
Genre:	Fantasy
Website:	http://www.inkheartmovie.com/
Release Date:	June 23, 2009
Rated:

List Price:	Blu-ray - $24.99
Amazon:

Of the entire imagined-shit-coming-to-life-and-causing-chaos sub genre that has bombarded the family friendly calendar slots in the last year or so (Bedtime Stories, Night At The Museum, Imagine That) Inkheart is certainly the best. But honestly that’s not saying much. Perhaps better to say it has the most ambition because easily digestible escapism for grandma and all the kids it most certainly isn’t.

About fifteen minutes in, after Brendan Fraser’s antique book dealer Mo (about as convincing as Meg Ryan as a helicopter pilot) has dragged her around yet another dusty store, pocketed a tome of apparent rarity, and been accosted by a weird, scarred man with fire coming out of his hands, daughter Meggie (Bennett) turns to her dad and demands to be told what the hell is going on. It’s a feeling you’ll most definitely share, as it’s a question that sadly persists throughout the entire length of the film and one that flatly stamps out any hint of fun that threatens to emerge.

Eventually, after much shrieking, running about, and dodgy men in even dodgier wardrobes, it's revealed that Mo is a “silver-tongue” - a being capable of drawing characters from books into the real world by reading their stories aloud. But this gift comes at a cost of balance, with people from our world (including his wife, Meggie’s mother, Resa (Sienna Guillory)) disappearing into the pages in their place. Having finally found a copy of the book that holds Resa, Mo must keep hold of it long enough to read her out while simultaneously dodging fire-juggler Dustfinger (Bettany), desperate to be returned home, and Andy Serkis’ villainous Capricorn who wants to usurp Mo’s gift for evil ends.

It all seems so delightfully promising, but it’s just so muddled as to be impenetrable and the relentless energy it expends chiefly only serves to confuse and confound with endless motion and next to no emotion. Robbed of his glib defenses and denied the opportunity to deliver either punch or punchline, Brendan Fraser is slightly more emotive then a brick wall, as the ability to exude grief and guilt are seemingly way beyond him. Eliza Bennett is suitably plucky but is saddled with a teasing teen romance with Farid from the Forty Thieves that never goes anywhere. The cast is rounded out by veteran British thesps who are apparently having an off-screen bet to see who can be the most eccentric, a contest easily won by Helen Mirren’s dotty old Aunt Elinor, a character that serves no discernible purpose whatsoever. Only Paul Bettany manages to come through unscathed, making the very best of an underwritten role.

There are nods to the great power of literature as fuel and refuge for the imagination; Capricorn’s Italian castle is teeming with characters brought out by his own stuttering silver-tongue: flying monkey’s from Oz, The Hound of the Baskervilles, the ticking crocodile from Neverland, and an army of people whom the stutter has bestowed with deformity (text from the books stain their faces). But for a story seemingly built on a set of rules it staunchly refuses to play by them. Capricorn commands the kind of manpower that would shame a James Bond villain, so why does he need Mo exactly? And if Mo can match his efforts and more why doesn’t he read out James Bond, or Batman, or some Special Forces guys to help him out? If, as it emerges, that you can simply write your own story to manipulate reality when you don’t have a book to read, why didn’t Mo just do that to begin with?

In the end, for all its lush production design, glossy visuals and like-clockwork set pieces, it’s impossible to escape the feeling that there is something decidedly half-assed going on here. In fact on closer inspection there is something downright cynical in the commissioning of a film based on a book that espouses the enchanting power of literature, and essentially tells children to stop watching movies and go read a book.

Blu-ray Bonus Features

A selection of throwaway deleted scenes only further add to the narrative jumble. Also included is a game of improvised storytelling whereby Inkheart author Cornelia Funke offers an opening line and invites the cast and crew to each contribute a small section. A separate featurette has Funke outline the adaptation process from script to screen. Lastly Eliza Bennett reads to us a few of her favorite passages from the Inkheart novel.