But if we’re talking movies, or more specifically this brand-spanking Brothers Grimm reworking and fellow 2012 Snow White outing “Mirror Mirror,” a lighthearted fairytale dud starring Lily Collins and Julia Roberts, then the sweet and innocent out of the pair has but a Snow White’s chance in Hell of winning the “fairest of them all” contest, at least when pitted against the grand blockbuster spectacle of its brooding, brutal competitor. Indeed, Charlize Theron would probably lop off Julia Roberts’ pretty little head with a sharpened axe if given the chance. Let’s hope she isn’t.
You know the story. Snow White is a princess with lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow and hair as black as a raven’s wing. Her mother (Liberty Ross, “W.E."), the queen of a mythical English kingdom, succumbs to an illness while Snow is still a young girl. Snow’s grief-stricken, widowed father (Noah Huntley, “Holby City”), King Mangus, soon takes on a new bride: the alluring Ravenna, a seemingly helpless captive whom he rescues from the clutches of a suspiciously defeatable army apparently made of shattering glass. I wonder if it’s a trick.
On the night of their wedding, Ravenna plunges a dagger deep into poor hubby’s heart and is made the sole ruler of all the land upon his murder. She has little Snow imprisoned in the North Tower, and adorns one wall of the kingdom with something very special: a magic mirror, one made of a richly gold liquid metal that leaks down from its solid surface and rises up to form a cloaked figure whose arms are forever crossed. This mirror (if you can even call it that) is a marvellous sight, created through computer effects and speaking in the booming voice of Christopher Obi Ogugua.
Ravenna asks the mirror that all-important question, and the answer is she, much to her delight. But years later, when Ravenna’s reign has truly taken its toll on the now-barren land and its once-flourishing prosperity, the question is asked again and the answer is not she anymore: it is her stepdaughter, who has just come of age and who is still kept hidden under lock and key. Ravenna is informed that if she were to consume Snow’s heart, she would become immortal. Ravenna quivers in sadistic glee at the mere prospect. But Snow promptly escapes her chambers and Ravenna’s grasp, and flees to the Dark Forest, where untold evils lie in waiting.
The Dark Forest is a nightmarish, insidious place. It is a place of creepy-crawlies and gruesome monsters, of inescapable quicksand and treacherous hallucinations. Rotting tree branches reach out and snatch at what few visitors they receive like something out of “The Evil Dead,” the trees themselves adorned with slithering snakes and fire-breathing dragons. Crossing a bridge risks - nay, instigates - an attack from a towering troll that snarls and thrashes, wallops and wails. I like this place: it’s sizzlingly sinister and delightfully dark, and brought to glorious, decadent life by a lavish production design.
Increasingly desperate to claim Snow’s heart, the Queen sends the nameless Huntsman (narrator Chris Hemsworth, attempting a Scottish brogue that leaps whole continents), a beer-guzzling oaf, into the forest to pursue her, capture her and bring her back to the kingdom. She speaks not of her true intentions with Snow to the burly brute. The Huntsman enters the forest and discovers Snow cowering in a bush, but is beguiled and enchanted by her irresistible beauty, or something. She tells him of the queen’s wicked ways, and the Huntsman swaps sides, joining Snow on her quest to finally put an end to her evil stepmother’s tyrannical reign.
On their journey, they stumble upon eight - not seven - dwarfs, who join Snow too. These are played by Bob Hoskins, Ian McShane, Toby Jones, Ray Winstone, Brian Gleeson, Johnny Harris, Eddie Marsan and Nick Frost. You may be aware of the fact that none of these men are particularly limited in stature, or at least not to the point that they could convincingly play a dwarf: as such, they are given the Hobbit treatment, digitally shrunk down to a miniscule size by CGI that is very effective and mercifully convincing. With a peculiar fashion sense and gruff cockney twangs, the dwarfs essentially act as the film’s comic relief, and their performers play it well: I enjoyed their company.
“Snow White and the Huntsman” is directed by Rupert Sanders, a former maker of commercials. This is Sanders’ filmmaking debut, and he demonstrates a fine talent for creating a spectacle: the film is brimming with pleasant-looking action set-pieces and brilliantly rendered, frequently utilised special effects. It’s certainly an attractive film, featuring an abundance of sweeping landscapes and medieval battles. However, Sanders struggles to grant “Snow White and the Huntsman” its own personal identity: the film flaunts ambitions to be both a dark fairytale fantasy and a gritty “Lord of the Rings”-esque epic, but Sanders never quite commits to one. The film is sort of both, but the two don’t really fit together.
The film marks Charlize Theron’s first stab at playing the villain; some would argue she previously did that in 2003’s “Monster,” but I would say that Aileen Wuornos was merely the anti-heroine of that film. As the obsessively vain and cruelly manipulative Queen Ravenna, Theron is a force of nature, sometimes literally: with just a flick of her black-feathered cloak she instantly transforms into a swirling flock of squawking ravens. Theron displays a cold-hearted menace: sometimes it is quiet, her steely-eyed glare piercing through the screen. Sometimes it is loud, Theron shrieking like the madwoman that Ravenna unquestionably is, and greeting virginal maidens with a youth-devouring Dementor’s kiss. Ravenna is a magnificent antagonist, and we love to loath her.
Stewart’s Snow White, a far cry from the glowing radiance Lily Collins displayed in “Mirror Mirror,” is a disappointingly bloodless incarnation of the character. Here, Snow is a glum, sullen figure whose personality struggles to engage the viewer, Stewart taking few steps from her increasingly defining performance as Bella Swan in the “Twilight” saga - the only discernible difference between the two is the posh English accent she tussles with as Snow. It’s only after the limp midsection of the film and towards the action-soaked climax, as the character is revealed to possess supernatural, almost Christ-like qualities, that she finally registers as our protagonist and heroine, delivering a rousing speech worthy of Henry V before gallantly going into battle alongside the heroic Huntsman and a roaring band of rebel soldiers. It’s a stirring finale, and one with a satisfying face-off.
“Snow White and the Huntsman” is a triumph of production design and special effects, much like Tim Burton’s “Alice in Wonderland” (with which Sanders’ film shares producer Joe Roth). But much unlike “Alice in Wonderland,” “Snow White and the Huntsman” managed to woo me and win me over with its luxurious visuals, Middle-earth-ian fantasy world, brilliantly blackhearted bitch of a villainess and comical caboodle of cockney dwarfs. Perhaps a more experienced director than Sanders could have come in handy and really pulled the story together, but as it stands, “Snow White and the Huntsman” is a Brothers Grimm tale that’s more than fair.
7/10
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