Review of Nanny McPhee (2005) by Markb. — 14 Feb 2006

You'd think that any children's movie that opens with cannibalism and decapitation (both pretend!) would rank as some kind of instant cult classic along the lines of Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory or Time Bandits, but you'd be disappointed at how quickly this slides into utter blandness.

Despite its highly stylized, wildly colorful period sets (which look far more art-directed than actually lived-in) this adaptation of Christianna Brand's popular books comes off as...well, rather colorless.

I'm sorry to report that a big portion of this falls right into the lap of adapter/star Emma Thompson, who despite playing a character with two warts, a set of eyebrows that makes Frida Kahlo look like Kate Moss, and a nose that makes Thompson appear to have frequently been on the winning end of a series of gin-guzzling contests with W.

C. Fields, underplays the title character so much that she comes off as invisible as the hero's late wife, represented by an empty pink armchair. Said widower (Colin Firth), overwhelmed by the bucketload of kids he's not doing well at all at disciplining (although the double-digit broods recently seen onscreen in Yours Mine & Ours, Cheaper by the Dozen 2 and The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio make him seem like the Planned Parenthood poster boy by comparison), hires the mysterious, vaguely supernaturally gifted McPhee to instill some order; she not only does that but straightens out his prospects for Wife #2.

Among screenwriter Thompson's and director Kirk Jones' sevewral unimaginative decisions is that of making the reduction or elimination of McPhee's facial oddities disappointingly literal: she loses a wart or other imperfection every time she accomplishes a job-related goal, but it would've been far more interesting to render this process a lot more ambiguous (did she really become prettier as she goes along or does it just SEEM that way to the kids because they've grown to love and respect her?) Curiously, the movie's best set piece by far is the one that doesn't involve McPhee at all--it's the cleverly timed sequence where the dad endeavors to protect the Would-Be Wife From Hell from all manner of slapstick sabotage aimed at her by the children.

Part of this is because Celia Imrie is not only so much fun to watch and listen to as the predatory, mercenary marriage candidate, but appears to be the only cast member (yes, kids included) who really looks like she's having a good time.

Undemanding family films like this are reminiscent of G-rated pablum like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang that parents in the late 1960s took their children to, fervently wishing (either during the film or while excusing themselves for lobby smoke breaks) that ten or twelve movies could be shown in the same building so they could park the kids there while watching something provocative like Easy Rider or Midnight Cowboy.

Oh well, if you've got YOUR kids for the afternoon, and Munich or Brokeback Mountain are playing at the same multiplex...