Review of The BFG (2016) by William D — 24 Aug 2016

PLEASE NOTE: This review is written in both English and Gobblefunk, the official langwitch of Giant Country.

It's not every day, especially nowadays when mummies and daddies and their little tottlers just tend to go and see Minionions (Minions), singing princessies and superdeeheroes on those whoppsy big screens at those whatchamacallthem movie places, that something entirely different like the absolutely wonderful, magical, lovely and shall I say it, gloriumptious family film which is Steven Spielberg's new live-action adaptation of Roald Dahl's The BFG is made (let's not forget the old animated film of yesteryear of course, that of which is a scrumdiddlyumptious treat as well).

Especially when it not only comes as a breath of fresh air when we're living on a - somewhat - stale diet of what now passes for family entertainment, similar to the titular giant's consisting of a certain rotsome vegetable, but reminds us of a simpler time like back in the 80s, when all the genre needed were simpler films, particularly fantasy, with heart, gentle humour, a few scares thrown in, a little bit of action and more importantly, a message. So any human bean who disses this marvellous little movie, especially when it received such a cold reception and an unfair bashing in the United States, can go and eat snozzcumbers.

The BFG (short for Big Friendly Giant) is one of the most endearing literary characters: a gentle soul in the body of a feared creature from traditional folklore who brings kindness upon the children of an often cruel world in the form of happy dreams, a wise, old being who's lived as long as the earth but is still a big, loveable oaf who's as human as the rest of us, even if his terrifying stature, bizarre-look and peculiarly funny speech pattern may not make us think so at first.

Both Steven Spielberg and Roald Dahl are masterful storytellers and neither man's work is to be sniffed (or snorted) at. However, Dahl's work has suffered on film lately thanks to Wes Anderson's Fantastic Misfire, I mean Mr Fox, and Richard Curtis's dissem ytinutroppo (that's "missed opportunity" spelled backwards) which was his reworking of Esio Trot ("tortoise" spelled...well, you get the picture). Spielberg, on the other hand, hasn't released his inner "chiddler" for a very long time, something of which can be a real joy to watch like in E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, nor has he worked his magic on a fairy tale since Hook. Enchanted by Dahl's fable since reading it to his son at bedtime, The Big Filmmaking Giant who is Spielberg went on a rumpledumpus to Hollywood with a dream to release it onto the screen although it wasn't without its twitchy glitches.

The BFG has been a troubled trogglehumper of a production that's lasted for twenty years since 1991, two since the cartoon made its TV premiere on the bunkum box. Anyone back then would have thought such a project featuring real actors with the main star being its scope and scale (it was going to be Robin Williams at one stage) couldn't be achieved without the right technology. But then, the idea of giant people on film wasn't exactly new at that point (anyone remember Honey, I Blew Up the Kid?) so creating the Giant wouldn't have been a problem. It was finding the right script that was a big challenge.

So, it's a whoppsy sigh of relief that the faithful, touching and funny screenplay written by the late Melissa Mathison (who penned E.T.) not just treats the original novel with great respect but also brings fresh ideas to the table which thankfully don't divert us from the book's narrative which the film does follow even if it is told slightly differently (the poor ogre's given a tragic back-story, a la Willy Wonka in Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). The script also has little winks to it that will please the Dahl purists - the labels on The BFG's dream jars in particular would even make him griggle (giggle) - and action to the proceedings, most of which are dialogue-driven. As a fan myself, there are certain bits I would nitpick on but at the same time, there is so much justice served to the novel and main character here, more so than the sausages, bacon and eggs provided for him (I will speak about that later), that my head will have to be full of squashed flies to do so.

Kudos has to be also given to cinematographer Janusz Kami?ski as well for bringing the story beautifully to life, from the gorgeous Harry Potter-esque opening shots of dark, misty London, the frames showing The BFG's cave dwelling and its construction which, like each and every one of its rooms, drip with imagination and pure wonderment to the emotional dream-catching sequence (the fabulous scenes in Dream Country alone brought tears to my eyes). The scene in which little orphaned girl Sophie and the massive dream-blower spot each other is striking and the journey to Giantland will certainly sweep you away, in the same way one character is swept off their feet, err...bed. You may dismiss Giant Country looking a little Middle-Earth-ish but green, craggy landscapes have been an aspect of fantasy film since probably 1982's The Dark Crystal. This is all accompanied by John Williams' delightfully whimsical score, my favourite of his so far.

Spielberg's BFG was never going to surpass Cosgrove Hall's 1989 animated masterpiece but that would have been a tall order, pun intended, and this isn't a remake per se. So the songs and the odd-looking little red-and-black rat may be absent but on the other hand and you're probably better seeing these in the cinema before they may be edited for pre-watershed viewing in the near future, the whizzpoppers (the explosive breaks of wind caused by the consumption of the glumptious beverage Frobscottle) still remain. The only aspects of the animation which this version improve upon are BFG's man-gobbling cannybull Giant neighbours who strangely lacked a lot of menace previously and seemingly wanted to play with him rather than torment him (they are scary here). The scene in which he screams at them to get out of his cave and leave him alone really breaks your heart. They, along with huge hands slithering through windows and Sophie possibly jumping to her death may be a bit too much for the kiddie-winklers but a ball game involving vehicles will certainly amuse them.

As for The BFG himself, who looks realistically colossal and other-wordly, no word either proper or Gobblefunked can describe how beautifully Mark Rylance portrays him. In fact, thanks to his BFS, that's Best Friend Steven, and his team of CGI (phizz)wizards, he simply becomes The Big Friendly Giant with a distorted head and a great, suitable West Country accent to boot. When he's not speaking his lines, some being directly from the printed page or Dahl's invented dialect, his emotive gogglers (eyes) do some of his acting as well which the crew do not hide in amongst the pixels on his old face. You'll love him. He's wondercrump (that one will do)!

The other blood-curdling Giants, led by Jemaine Clement's bellowing, bullying yet dim-witted Fleshlumpeater also appear to be huge, a big threat in both size and bulk along with his other equally intimidating if stupid brethren like The Bloodbottler (Bill Hader).

Newcomer Ruby Barnhill, meanwhile, may possibly be the next Emma Watson with her great gusto performance as Sophie. The character of Sophie however, unlike her hand-drawn counterpart or the Sophie in the book, takes time to warm to which doesn't really help the film to begin with as we, the audience, need to care about her in the situation she's in and the friendship between her and her kid-snitcher to work. From the off, she comes across as tetchy and bratty towards him (calling him "Flesh-Head" is very un-Sophie-like) and as a result, you can't help but feel there's something missing. But as The BFG prompts her with his massive arm (a jaw-dropping image) to join him to be washed after being covered in snozzcumber "snozz", we discover, in the way the girl does about the kindly colossus, that she, and the movie, do have a heart and watching the bond grow between them and the two friends blow dreams is joyous.

Other charming moments include BFG in his titanic-sized bed, eating at the Royal Breakfast Table and displaying an instant dislike of filthsome coffee. The ways in which he camouflages and hides himself in the darkness is just genius. There's also the scene where Her Majesty's corgis taking a swig of one particular drink, Penelope Wilton (Downton Abbey) enjoying herself portraying a simply squiffling Queen with a game Rebecca Hall as maid Mary and Rafe Spall doing an amusing turn as Mr Tibbs the butler in tow.

There are flushbunking flaws. The story begins and ends a bit too abruptly and Spielberg seems afraid to delve deep into the novel and bring out its darker elements. The finale feels a little anti-climactic as well, which is weird when the cartoon delivered exciting action in a way you'd expect Spielberg to do here. There is excitement to be had, but not much tension.

However, The BFG is definitely Steven Spielberg's best film since that one with that boy and his horsey going to bittle-battle (War Horse). A lovingly crafted golden phizzwizard of a movie neither Roald Dahl nor any other human bean could have possibly dreamt of seeing before their goggly eyes.

It's a whizzpopping classic!