A Wrinkle in Time tries hard to be a thoughtful, original, family- friendly science-fantasy. But so hard does it try, it ends up self- aware, genre-confused and slow. Hindered by poor acting, the film will satisfy only the most patient and simultaneously uninvested of viewers.
While I applaud any film confident enough to take its time setting a backdrop and building characters, this film just takes its time. Largely this is down to the wooden acting, even though the source material (it is based on a book) must also bear some of the blame.
With character names like Mrs. Whotsit, it's clear the story wishes to be charming and maybe even childish. But this is then mixed with extended, shallow expositions about human nature or the Universe, ridiculously precocious (and arrogant) youngsters with a budding but lacklustre mature romance, and quotations from classical literature (plus a splattering of pop culture). It's hard to see who the story could appeal to.
So much time is spent trying to establish an emotional connection, if they'd even spent a fraction scouting for decent lead actors and rewriting the script, they might have succeeded. As it stands, it's simply painful to watch the lead actress rattle off pretentious speeches, inane colloquialisms and emotional exclamations each with the same expressionless face and measured voice. Against stirring piano and violin.
I don't know whether it's the filmmakers' or the original author's fault, but infecting a mediocre kid's plot with an adult's intellectual indulgence - or is it an adult's intellectual indulgence wrapped in a mediocre kid's plot? - can only result in the dilution of each part with the other: the dull smudge that results from the child's fallacy of a more exciting hue created through colours smeared together - which, coincidentally, is the visual image on which the film ends.
While I applaud any film confident enough to take its time setting a backdrop and building characters, this film just takes its time. Largely this is down to the wooden acting, even though the source material (it is based on a book) must also bear some of the blame.
With character names like Mrs. Whotsit, it's clear the story wishes to be charming and maybe even childish. But this is then mixed with extended, shallow expositions about human nature or the Universe, ridiculously precocious (and arrogant) youngsters with a budding but lacklustre mature romance, and quotations from classical literature (plus a splattering of pop culture). It's hard to see who the story could appeal to.
So much time is spent trying to establish an emotional connection, if they'd even spent a fraction scouting for decent lead actors and rewriting the script, they might have succeeded. As it stands, it's simply painful to watch the lead actress rattle off pretentious speeches, inane colloquialisms and emotional exclamations each with the same expressionless face and measured voice. Against stirring piano and violin.
I don't know whether it's the filmmakers' or the original author's fault, but infecting a mediocre kid's plot with an adult's intellectual indulgence - or is it an adult's intellectual indulgence wrapped in a mediocre kid's plot? - can only result in the dilution of each part with the other: the dull smudge that results from the child's fallacy of a more exciting hue created through colours smeared together - which, coincidentally, is the visual image on which the film ends.