Movie review: Inkheart

by John P. Meyer

It's amazing to consider that Iain Softley, who directed the woefully-underappreciated K-PAX (starring Kevin Spacey in one of his most curious and deeply reflective roles), is also responsible for Inkheart.

Which is probably a dead giveaway that, in my opinion, Inkheart doesn't rise to the entertainment and/or thoughtfulness level of that earlier film. Which would be a correct assumption.

Of course, the comparison should only be taken so far, given that this film's source material - a novel by Cornelia Funke - targets a younger audience than K-PAX, with its dark psychological thematic underpinnings, ever thought about doing.

From an appeal (i.e. "box office") standpoint, the question will be whether there's enough fantastic imagery and thrilling adventure present on-screen to drive positive word of mouth and attract a steady stream of ticket-buyers. And it looks to be a split decision, in that a) the sets are exotic and romantic and full of visual interest, but b) the thrill level dwells somewhere around the idle setting of the movie-magic tachometer, with only the occasional accelerator punch to heighten our engagement in the story.

There's an additional leavening factor at play, in that another recent film dealt with a very similar premise - and it had Adam Sandler's star power behind it. (Will kids even WANT to see another movie about people reading stuff into reality? Even if it has Brendan Fraser in it?)

Fraser plays Mortimer Folchart, who - with young daughter Meggie (Eliza Bennett) in tow - has traveled to the twisty cobbled streets of a charming, fog-shrouded Alpine village in search of a particular book for his collection. Mr. Folchart is, it turns out, a renowned book preservationist, celebrated amongst the antiquarian librarian set as a "book doctor." Less widely known is the fact that Mo is also a "silvertongue," which designator implies an ability to read characters from the pages of a work of fiction into physical life.

Mo discovered his wild talent quite by accident while reading bedtime stories (Argh!) to babe-in-arms Meggie; he simultaneously discovered an unpleasant, even downright tragic side-effect: when one character pops into our reality, another one must leave it and enter into the pages of the book. Thus, wife and mother Resa (Sienna Guillory) exits the stage very early on in the proceedings.

Entering the stage at an equally early juncture is a fiery dude named Dustfinger (Paul Bettany), who confronts Mo and Meggie expressing an interest in returning to the pages of the volume from whence he sprang. When we discover somewhat later that the cause of his eagerness is embodied by Jennifer Connelly (in a silent cameo as Roxanne), we fully understand. (You go, Dusty!)

Complicating events is the appearance of a gang of henchmen employed by the evil Capricorn (Andy Serkis), the chief villain released in the course of Mo's earlier reading episode. These henchmen include a dagger-wielding nasty named Basta (Jamie Foreman) and a thuggish chap known appropriately as Flatnose (Steve Speirs).

Thus we have one fictional character (Dustfinger) aching to have Mo read him back into the book, and another (Capricorn) dead set upon having him read someone (something?) else out of it. And, from Mo and Meggie's perspective, there's the not inconsequential matter of wife/mom Resa. Since Capricorn has the henchmen - and the amoral resolve to ruthlessly employ them - he's the spot-on favorite to get what he wants. Particularly given the unexpected leverage he later finds means to employ.

Coming along on the quest to Capricorn's lofty crenelated keep - where Mo hopes to find the one remaining copy of the rare book which will allow him to rematerialize his missing wife - is an elder relation named Elinor (Helen Mirren), who carries off a serviceable maiden aunt turn, injecting a modicum of derring-do besides.

Perhaps the most entertaining character is a young fellow named Farid (played by the charming Rafi Gavron) conjured up from a forced voicing of One Thousand and One Nights. Farid - who is apparently one of Ali Baba's forty thieves - adds a whimsical humor to the piece that proves otherwise scarce as hen's teeth. Farid rather enjoys the conveniences of modern times - not to mention tasty foods and comfy mattresses.

Amongst the alleyways, battlements and tiled rooftops of Capricorn's castle, our heroes spend a great deal of time playing hide-and-seek from the illustrated men and women under that villain's employ. There's rather a lot (too much?) of ducking into doorways, then having companions grab one to pull one backwards into said doorways in order to avoid detection. (Ho, hum.) A final scene involving the appearance of The Shadow - a spirit-based entity conjured from the ashes of Capricorn's many victims - somehow fails to live up to the expectations of fearsomeness we've been warned to prepare ourselves for.

In the linchpin role of Meggie, Ms. Bennett conveys the requisite vulnerability and a suitable level of wonder at the unfolding of these magical events - but we get the feeling that her most impressive performances may be ahead of her. More compelling is Jim Broadbent as Fenoglio, the author of the fabled book which has stirred up so much ado. It's amusing to see and hear his reactions to the living, breathing manifestations of characters that have sprung full-featured from his inner muse.

There are themes touched upon in the narrative that might have ennobled and added interest to this disappointingly lackluster cinematic outing had they been further explored. Of particular appeal, from a book lover's standpoint, are Elinor's musings on the pervasive and transformative power of the written word: "Books love anyone who opens them," she ponders aloud; and "The written word is a powerful thing." Powerful, indeed - and innately egalitarian, given one's actual ability to read.