The BFG review

Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of the classic Roald Dahl novel “The BFG” suggests a director and source material paring that should yield exciting work. Spielberg is the master of creating four-quadrant Hollywood product that rides the line between the joy and wonder of cinema with an undercurrent of menace and Hitchcockian thrills. Dahl’s books capture a similar sense of childhood wish fulfillment often shadowed by morose details and black humor. Unfortunately, somewhere in the production of “The BFG” the sneakier tones and shades that made the original story pop were glossed over with a slick, motion-capture focused accessibility that’s flattens its most interesting quirks.

When the movie's protagonist Sophie, played by newcomer Ruby Barnhill, stares out of the window of her orphanage bedroom and we first see the shadow of the 60-foot Big Friendly Giant, we get a glimpse of the Spielbergian power of mystery and imagination. After the clearly animated giant then snatches our protagonist through the window and brings her back to his magical home in giant land the sense of mystery is quickly replaced with focus on the special effects and Dahl’s idiosyncratic dialogue. We are also introduced to a pack of bigger, meaner, man-eating giants who live with the BFG and who pose a threat to Sophie, so long as she’s living with her capture, but that threat is never treated with enough weight or seriousness to effectively motivate the narrative.

The film tries to balance the unfamiliarity and strangeness of Sophie’s new surroundings, and like Dahl’s other novel “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” we are lead through a series of set pieces were we are introduced to a lot of silly and bizarre concepts, but the hallmark-channel tone of the film never allows for the necessary emotional peaks or valleys to ground these concepts in a way that properly thrusts the story. Even John Williams’s lilting score is always humming inoffensively in the background and never recedes or swells to punctuate scenes in a meaningful way.

The choice to iron over Dahl’s threatening world with the story’s friendlier message leaves the audience with little else to attach ourselves. The photo-realistic animation is the focus of the movie and it isn’t new enough or distinct enough to wow us into loving the characters. Mark Rylance’s voice work as the friendly giant is commendable and Barnhill’s interactions with a green-screen environment is seamless and mostly convincing but the film suffers from an amiable blandness that surprisingly lacks creative vision.

As a children’s film “The BFG” is not a grating or unbearable experience but it’s also not a memorable one either and from Spielberg this come with a harsher critical eye, given that he essentially perfected this genre with his past films such as “E.T: The Extra Terrestrial.” Hell, even the often maligned “Hook” took more risks and wasn’t afraid to build in moments of suspense and peril to underline the dramatic stakes. “The BFG” has a few transcendent moments in which it’s director seemed to be engaged with the material, but the overall execution of the film is a missed opportunity.

Grade: C

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal - July/2016

Listen to this week's episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "The BFG."

Midnight Special review

Jeff Nichols is a filmmaker whose work often reflects the lives of working class Middle-Americans. He’s also interested in contrasting the realistic, and often hard world of U.S. laborers within the genre trappings of their own populist cinema. In the case of “Midnight Special,” a title that suggest a certain type of boilerplate, pulp storytelling, Nichols has captured the uncanny sense of otherworldly danger and childlike wonder that Amblin-era Steven Spielberg branded in the late 1970s and early 80s, but does so while retaining his own sense of minimalist thriller direction.

The film begins with Michael Shannon and Joel Edgerton as two men who’re armed and on the run from the police with a child named Alton (Jaiden Leiberher), who’s stowed away in the back of their pickup, reading comic books with a flashlight under a sheet. Shannon plays the boy’s biological father who has captured Alton from an unusual foster home situation, ran by a religious zealot/cult-leader who believes the child in question is part of a holy prophecy. This might not the most outrageous theory, as the government has their own interests in Alton because his psychic ramblings have been linked to important U.S. intelligence, making him and his father suspects of treason. Shannon believes that that they have to take Alton to a set mysterious coordinates before the boy’s strange, and dangerous abilities weaken him to point of certain death.

Like Spielberg’s 1977 classic “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”—of which, alongside “E.T.”, this owes much of its structure and aesthetic—Nichols’ allows this science-fiction thriller to reveal itself slowly, working from its realistic exterior to its fantastic core as the story blossoms, uncovering more popcorn-bait with every piece of new information the script lays out. The stakes are immediately apparent which drives the story forward. A seductively dark sense of mystery shrouds the picture, taking place on the deserted desert roads of twilight Texas. Though Nichols’ employs more special-effects here than in his previous films, they are used sparingly and usually to good effect. In one scene we are shown what looks to be meteorites falling from the sky, first as small twinkling lights in the distance and then huge fireballs that violently and convincingly annihilates the rural gas station our characters are stopped at. We later find out this was a satellite that Alton managed to telekinetically crash through our atmosphere.

Scenes like this are captivating in an uneasy way and provides gravitas to the movie’s pulpier elements. That’s why it’s all the more disappointing when the director shows us too much his hand and robs us of the film’s mounting tension by delving further into its sci-fi world-building, with an ending that registers far sillier than the concealed intrigue teased before that point.

Despite its clanging and on-the-nose conclusion “Midnight Special” is a compelling dark fantasy, full of eerie set-ups, an economically written screenplay and a host of great performances, including Adam Driver as a curious NSA agent who’s in over his head. Nichols again proves himself to be an exciting talent who fully understands the unconscious effect classic Hollywood genre filmmaking has had on lives of rural America.

Grade: B+

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/April-2016

Listen to this week's episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "Midnight Special."