Decent Time

What would you do if you could turn back time?

This question is the primary theme of Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, the video game-turned-movie of this past summer. Directed by none other than Mike Newell from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and produced by the legendary Jerry Bruckheimer, Prince of Persia was a guaranteed financial success. With connections like that, no movie could be a complete flop; it can, however, be bombarded by critics as fake, plotless, and predictable.

And the critics are right in that respect. Prince of Persia is about as original as a red brick; I could have predicted 90% of the whole plot and script. Ruggedly dashing warrior-hero? Check. Feisty princess/love interest? Check. Wicked stepmother, er, excuse me, uncle? Check. Someone saying, "You're not my type"? Check. The story was like a poorly cut-and-pasted word document; I couldn't help feeling bad for the screenwriters. Writing a movie based on a video game is no easy task, and I'm afraid they weren't up to the task.

But despite the cheesiness (by cheesy, I mean really cheesy), an admittedly exhausted Jillian enjoyed it more than she expected. Most of its appeal comes from Jake Gyllenhaal's debonair performance. Not unlike Errol Flynn in The Adventures of Robin Hood, Gyllenhaal sweeps around the screen, defeating entire cities, escaping all foes, and grinning roguishly at the ladies in the audience during all spare moments. In addition to his warrior charm, Gyllenhaal's Dastan has a sort of morality rare to find in today's hero. Not only does Dastan go out of his way to help the fair Olivia de Hav....I mean, Tamina - in the whole movie, all they share is one kiss. This hero type, although predictable as all get out, is much more classic and thus more enjoyable than that popular currently.

When you add to this an ending which gives your insides warm fuzzies, Prince of Persia was a decent use of a tired Friday night.

Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

I know the beginning of this is not especially pretty, but the bit starting at 1:08 is simply gorgeous. In this respect, it's like James Newton Howard's Those We Don't Speak Of from The Village.

Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

"Ok, we've got free femes going on 'ere."

But they're all very pretty. :-)

Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

A little jazz anybody?

Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

This has a very similar sound to James Newton Howard's Hidalgo. It does, however, have a stronger sense of action. The two combined would make for an excellent The Horse and His Boy soundtrack.

Just saying.

Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

Beautiful song. I can only imagine what it would be like to be in a choir that sings this!

Empty Goblet, Sputtering Fire

I want to begin this review by saying that I did read the book before I watched the movie, but my opinion of the book will be part of my review of the next book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which I have not yet finished.

At first glance, Mike Newell’s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire seems ideal, with its action scenes and daring escapes. The third director to lead Warner Brothers’ prolonged Potter project, Newell definitely does take a different tack from his predecessors, Chris Columbus and Alfonzo Cuaron. Of them all, I’d say that Newell’s use of CGI and computer generated/processed environments Is by far the most effective. The dragon Harry battles is as real as Dan Radcliffe himself; the underwater test is chillingly realistic. Most scenes left me holding my breath, it all seemed so real.

But once I’d muscled my way past the impressive action sequences and computer work, I found an emptiness that’s hard to ignore. The characters did lots of things, but I kept feeling like nothing had really happened. And then I noticed the things missing which had been there in Prisoner of Azkaban. True, Harry fought a Hungarian Horntail for ten minutes of breathtaking peril - but his relationships with Ron and Hermione are at a complete standstill the whole film. I was shocked to find that where Columbus wished to draw in fans of the book with an obsessive reproduction, and Cuaron wished to entice the viewer with beauty and quality, Newell didn’t really seem to have much of a vision at all. Beneath the glamorous exterior, Goblet of Fire lacked any movement of character or realistic emotions.

And since there was nothing in the script or cinematography to act as makeup, the strengths or (more often) weaknesses of the actors really showed through. For the most part, Daniel Radcliffe relapsed into his former ineptitude for the role. I know Harry Potter is a tough role to play, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask that he be a strong center for the tale. Radcliffe’s only shining moment was at the very end, when Harry brings Cedric’s body back. Here, I felt, he wasn’t simply trying to act: he was acting.

On the other hand, Rupert Grint discovered too late that his role as comedic relief could not last forever. He floundered around during the whole film, desperately searching for something to hold onto. Everything he said and did felt like chalk on a chalkboard; he made loath Ron, who I rather like in the books. The eery Robert Pattinson (I don’t care what anyone says, the man is just weird looking) completely botched the likable character of Cedric Diggory. Only Emma Watson (from whom I would at this point expect nothing less) managed to make something decent of her character.

There were two quality performances in the film: those of Brendan Gleeson as Mad-Eye Moody and Ralph Fiennes as Lord Voldemort. Gleeson was brilliant as the slightly mad Auror, or Dark Wizard catcher. Fiennes, unsurprisingly, performed magnificently - I applaud Newell for his selection. But let me ask this: what happens when your villain can outstrip your hero in acting? What effect does that have on the audience?

Now, I don’t want to be unjust. It’s not that The Goblet of Fire wasn’t faithful; Newell and Kloves did seem to be trying to remain close to the book. AndThe Goblet of Fire most definitely is NOT easy to adapt. Not only is it twice the size of the first three novels, but it also is right in the middle of the series and so, unfortunately, has a somewhat dragging plotline. Sorting through the incredibly extended plot must have been difficult, and I give them credit for what they did manage to get.

In short, Newell’s film was filled with action, but no movement. Beauty was abandoned for CGI; genuine emotions and relationships were lost in a tidal wave of stilted ones. With few exceptions, the actors delivered lines which they did not think and performed actions they did not feel. The result was actually similar to that of the first two films, leaving me vexed and with a less than savory taste in my mouth. Let us hope David Yates followed in the footsteps of Alfonzo Cuaron, not Columbus or Newell, in his Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.