Les Disneyrables
A few years ago, my brother-in-law told me he didn't like sci-fi films. I couldn't believe it. Sure, every genre has its share of garbage, but to dismiss all of cinematic science fiction? Ridiculous!
Last night, I came closer to understanding his point. After years of grappling with the unease that creeps up my spine whenever characters break into song on screen, I finally accepted the fact that I generally hate movie musicals. There are exceptions, of course, and they tend to be grand ones: hearing "I've Got A Golden Ticket" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, or pretty much any tune from Little Shop of Horrors, instantly puts a spring in my step--even when I'm sitting down.
But I'm sad to admit Into the Wood drove me to unreasoning fits of impatience. In fairness, I can't tell how much blame rests on Rob Marshall's film, versus my own inability to countenance showy performers trying to out-range each other while not advancing the story.
The cast does very well. The costumes and production design are some of the richest and evocative I've seen this year. I love the premise. But James Lapine's screenplay (adapted from Stephen Sondheim's 1986 musical) is a mess of nonsensical motivations and unresolved storylines that buckle under the weight of mostly indistinguishable songs.
Let's set the stage: Into the Woods supposes that Little Red Riding Hood (Lilla Crawford), Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), Rapunzel (Mackenzie Mauzy), and the beanstalk-scaling Jack (Daniel Huttlestone) all live on the outskirts of the same forest. Their destinies collide when a Baker (James Corden) and his wife (Emily Blunt) embark on a magical scavenger hunt to appease the witch next door (Meryl Streep)--who somehow holds the key to the couple's fertility.
Their quest concerns a lock of golden hair, a coat as red as blood, a milky-white cow, and a golden slipper. What it doesn't concern is the multi-million-dollar fantasy epic people have come to expect from Disney. I'm sure the designer wardrobes, actors' salaries, and deceptively limited special effects cost a pretty penny, but Into the Woods is maddening in its determination to not show crucial sequences. The most we get of Jack's multiple trips to the giant kingdom in the sky are shots of him climbing up the beanstalk and then climbing back down with bags of golden goodies. Cinderella's multiple nights of dancing with Prince Charming (Chris Pine) during a weekend-long ball are merely described; instead, we get three scenes of her running away from a great party we weren't invited to.
Perhaps this is the way Sondheim conceived his stage play, but it makes for lousy cinema. The first half of Into the Woods boils down to non-magical characters running in circles around a woodland set, singing about a scavenger hunt. The second half plays like whiteboard notes from a sequel story-meeting (or Once Upon a Time, take your pick), with Prince Charming putting the moves on the Baker's Wife for no reason; everyone trying to protect Jack from the Giant's wife for no reason;* and the Baker rushing through a surprise existential crisis that he literally should have had years ago.
Lapine (and/or Sondheim) pile on layer after layer of unnecessary postmodern fairy-tale analysis that, in their cleverness, replace one-dimensional characters with schizophrenics. Cinderella can't just dance with the prince at a ball. She has to dance with him on three consecutive nights, during which, we must accept, he doesn't ask her a single question about where she's from, what she wants, or why she runs away in hysterics at midnight.** And she can't just lose her slipper; she has to leave it behind because she can't decide whether or not she really wants to live as a princess or stay true to her impoverished roots, or whatever. It's just more business, aimed at giving the illusion of complexity to a story that doesn't require it.
All of this comes at the expense of more interesting elements that are either rushed or ignored. We learn early on that the Baker and Rapunzel are siblings, yet they don't have a single scene together. Rapunzel's love interest (Bill Magnussen) reveals that he's lost his sight at the hands of the witch; within thirty-five seconds, he's been cured thanks to Rapunzel's magical tears. The couple then disappears entirely from the movie.
I can't fault Into the Woods on any technical level, although the oppressive blue gloominess did little to help my alertness. Rob Marshall is a gifted filmmaker who did the best with what he had, I guess, but what he had was kind of crap. Hold on, I just remembered that Marshall directed 2002's big-screen adaptation of Chicago, which I loved.
Hmmm...
Maybe I like movie musicals after all. Yes, I think that's the case. I just can't stand glossy, obnoxious vamping that attempts to compensate for a lack of ideas--while also padding out the run-time. That's true for musicals, comedies, comic-book movies, action-figure extravaganzas, and any other genre you can name. Perhaps my personal B.S. radar is just keener when it comes to the song and dance of song-and-dance pictures. Whatever the case, I'm always open to that rare, lyrical, and brainy film that grabs my heart and changes its tune. Sadly, Into the Woods isn't one of those.
*Food for thought: In this reality, giants have not been established as evil; they're just much larger people who live in the sky. On multiple occasions, Jack burglarizes the giants' castle. When Jack finds himself in danger of getting caught by one of these goliaths, he chops down the beanstalk and kills his pursuer. It's unclear to me why the villagers are in such a hurry to protect this little snot when the victim's wife (Frances de la Tour) rightfully shows up and demands that they hand him over.
**True, this version of the story is supported by lore, but in keeping these head-scratching elements in play, Lapine (and/or Sondheim) risk ripping more sentient audience members out of the fantasy. So much of Into the Woods smacks of convenience in service of set pieces and songs that I simply couldn't invest in whatever vision the filmmakers had wanted to share.