I saw "Mirrormask" last night and it was an unsatisfactory experience.
It is a film that is visually rich but with slow direction, poor plot line and 2-dimensional characterisation.
I did, however, know this when I went in. I was willing to trust the two gentleman that I went with (knowledgable comic buffs) that the visuals would be out of the ordinary and so they were. Unfortunately, inexperience of direction meant that scene after scene passed with little in the way of dramatic tension or conflict. Though, this is a comment that could be made of many artists whose work is transferred to screen and who are given charge of direction. The pace of the story is lost as the camera lovingly dwells on the pretty pictures.
I would not have gone at all without that reassurance that the style of the film would be worth seeing. I have tried with Neil Gaiman's work but am always left with the "emperor's new clothes" feeling. I live in hope but last night was no exception.
I do not think I can continue with an analysis of Gaiman's work without losing the will to live. Read the rest of the comments and all his faults are eloquently described. I cannot comprehend, however, how he imagined that he had any understanding of the mind of a fifteen year old girl, Nor that what he had to say added anything to the sum total of human knowledge on growing up and assuming adult responsibility, or the changing relationship that a girl might have with her mother. These are the central themes of the film and they are handled ineptly, stereotypically and with no depth of imagination. All the pretty pictures in the world cannot make up for a piece of work that is flawed at the core.
It is a film that is visually rich but with slow direction, poor plot line and 2-dimensional characterisation.
I did, however, know this when I went in. I was willing to trust the two gentleman that I went with (knowledgable comic buffs) that the visuals would be out of the ordinary and so they were. Unfortunately, inexperience of direction meant that scene after scene passed with little in the way of dramatic tension or conflict. Though, this is a comment that could be made of many artists whose work is transferred to screen and who are given charge of direction. The pace of the story is lost as the camera lovingly dwells on the pretty pictures.
I would not have gone at all without that reassurance that the style of the film would be worth seeing. I have tried with Neil Gaiman's work but am always left with the "emperor's new clothes" feeling. I live in hope but last night was no exception.
I do not think I can continue with an analysis of Gaiman's work without losing the will to live. Read the rest of the comments and all his faults are eloquently described. I cannot comprehend, however, how he imagined that he had any understanding of the mind of a fifteen year old girl, Nor that what he had to say added anything to the sum total of human knowledge on growing up and assuming adult responsibility, or the changing relationship that a girl might have with her mother. These are the central themes of the film and they are handled ineptly, stereotypically and with no depth of imagination. All the pretty pictures in the world cannot make up for a piece of work that is flawed at the core.