"The Smurfs" is directed by Raja Gosnell, the man who previously subjected us to "Scooby-Doo," "Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed" and "Beverly Hills Chihuahua." Judging by his latest choice of film to direct, this filmmaker appears to have no plans to further his movie-making career in any way, shape or form, instead lazily compiling yet another live-action/animation hybrid that mixes CGI-assisted chatterbox animals with real-life people; the result, predictably, is rather horrendous.
Much like he did with Hanna-Barbera's "Scooby-Doo," Gosnell is here taking a beloved kids' cartoon series and has callously twisted it into an integrity-free, dumb-as-a-stump blockbuster bereft of a heart, soul or any sign of brain activity. This time, playing the victim is Hanna-Barbera's '80s cartoon "The Smurfs," the series itself based on the Belgian comic book series of the same name.
We are shown that the Smurfs are a tiny, cute, blue-skinned species who live in a peaceful village in a bright and colourful magical land. They all wear white Phrygian caps, love to sing happy songs, are lead by Papa Smurf (voiced by Jonathan Winters), and there is a grand total of one female living amongst them: the golden-locked Smurfette (singer Katy Perry), who must live in constant fear of mating season.
The Smurfs have one shared enemy they all fear: Gargamel (Hank Azaria, "Run Fatboy Run"), a foul and wicked, human-sized wizard with a bulbous nose and a balding skull. He despises the Smurfs and their happy-go-lucky perspective on life, even more so than his ginger pussycat named Azrael. Gargamel yearns to extract the Smurfs' "essence," and to use their powers for his own evil, world-dominating advantages. Mwahaha!
And when Gargamel learns of the entrance to the Smurfs' village, the blue-shaded miniscule beings find themselves running away from the towering giant as he mercilessly destroys their mushroom houses. As they run, they jump into a waterfall in spite of several signs warning them not to do so, with Gargamel and Azrael tentatively following suit.
It turns out this waterfall is a vortex that, much to their surprise, transports the Smurfs to New York City, a live-action land where they encounter Patrick Winslow (Neil Patrick Harris, "Beastly"), a work-obsessed marketing VP. Patrick unwittingly takes them into his apartment, and soon enough ends up trying to help these irritating little buggers get back home to their village along with his pregnant wife Grace (Jayma Mays, "Paul Blart: Mall Cop"). But a determined Gargamel is hot on their trail...
If there's one thing that's impressive about "The Smurfs," it's how many times it gets away with being incredibly foul-mouthed; it's astonishing the amount of times the word "Smurf," or any other pun, is used to imitate profanity in the film. Phrases such as "son of a Smurf" and "where the Smurf are we?" are included, as well as a moment where the sole Scottish Smurf points to his groin and calls it his "forbidden forest," which I suspect may be a euphemism for his pubic hair. These risqué puns are spoken so much that even Harris' character complains several times about the Smurfs' overuse of the word "Smurf"; how the hell does he think we feel?!
Just like "Alvin and the Chipmunks," "Garfield" and, most recently, "Yogi Bear," "The Smurfs" suffers from its seemingly deliberate stupidity and the level to which it has evidently been dumbed down. It feels like a disgrace and an injustice to the original source material, which I must admit I am not particularly familiar with. Even so, the film's idiocy felt wrong to me when I knew that the Saturday morning TV show was such a beloved classic. And is it really necessary to take these creatures out of their village and dump them in the middle of the Big Apple just for a culture clash? The village itself would have sufficed and possibly made for a much less detestable watch.
But no, NYC is the primary setting, allowing for a cluster-Smurf of product placement to flourish on-screen by way of Times Square advertisements and taxi-top billboards; it's all just an advert for Blu-Ray players, isn't it? The Smurfs and Gargamel get into all sorts of hair-raising shenanigans in the extravagant city, including a rampage through a toy store, a run-in with the law, a game of Rock Band, and a scene in which Gargamel turns a middle-aged woman into a beautiful young lady. And it's all very, very tedious.
There are three people who come out of this film still looking good. The first is Harris, who sustains his reputation for being an actor of much sarcastic charisma. The second is Mays, who is sweet and gentle throughout the film without coming across as grating and obnoxious. And the third is Azaria, whose goofy performance as the film's oafish villain is the most entertaining aspect of the film, Azaria spectacularly chewing scenery every time he jumps into frame. He also was the source of the one and only chuckle the film got out of my grumpy, unpleased self.
But alas, these decent acting performances cannot cloud the overwhelming awfulness that smothers this uninspired and nauseating 90-minute nightmare. Crammed full of excruciating puns and gag-inducing pop culture nudges, "The Smurfs" is a PowerPoint presentation on how not to make a kids' film, in the end amounting to a useless pile of Smurf.
1/10
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