Over the last ten-ish years,
one thing has become clear about special effects—they can enliven a movie’s
backdrop, but they can also be a distraction from the characters, the raison
d’être behind any great film. In “Oz the
Great and Powerful,” the latest pop extravaganza from the brilliant director
Sam Raimi, those effects include flashes of green lightening,
computer-generated baboon monsters, and other flurries that have a diluting
effect, threatening to eclipse the film’s story. Yet what they don’t blot out is quite
compelling. Packed with vibrant colors
and beautiful actors, the movie has a compelling sincerity that reasserts
itself at many very right moments.
Oddly, the film’s wizard hero, Oscar (James Franco), is
rather deficient in terms of sincerity.
He’s a smalltime magician with a few tricks up his sleeve, but not the
heart to commit to his true love (Michelle Williams). So it is with a few prayers that he enters
into a tornado, one that sweeps him into the magical land of Oz. If you’ve seen the original wizard of Oz
film, than you’ve been here before. But
this new Oz has been rendered to stunning effect. As Oscar lands in this brave new world, we
swerves down a rushing river in a hot air balloon, before touching down in a
piercing green forest where the “good witch” Theodora (Mila Kunis) is waiting
to greet him.
Thanks to a couple of reviews that spoiled the surprise,
I came into “Oz” prepared to see Theodora transform into a distorted,
green-faced wicked witch. What I wasn’t
expecting was for her to start off as such a charmingly naïve character. Theodora’s wardrobe (a red hat with a swooped
brim and some rather tight black pants) is smooth perfection but as a person,
she’s charmingly vulnerable. She
believes Oscar when he promises to marry her, not even considering that he
might just be an uncaring seducer. Ms.
Kunis plays the role of the unsuspecting girl with finesse, and that makes it
all the more heartbreaking when she devolves into a rage-fueled monster.
All in all, I was disappointed that Theodora’s role in
the narrative was downplayed in favor of Oscar’s more noble sidekicks (a very
cute monkey and ceramic girl). As
Glinda, the good witch who opposes Theodora, Michelle Williams is fine, but
rootless virtue can’t compete with tortured vulnerability. It can’t compete with munchkins either—those
diminutive rascals make up Glinda’s army and don’t function properly as comic
relief. The banter between Oscar and the
lead munchkin Nook is tiresome.
In the end, it all builds up to a showdown between Oscar
and Glinda versus Theodora’s army of wickedness. It is here that Oscar finally redeems
himself, putting the good of Oz before his own desire for wealth and
power. I wish though, that this
transformation had more power. In his masterful
“Spider-Man” trilogy (one of the greatest adventure sagas of the new millennium),
Mr. Raimi created a blockbuster narrative that zeroed in on the internal
anguish of its heroes. “Oz,” by
contrast, has a hero whose flawed selfishness never receives quite as much
attention as the film’s creatures and vistas (even though the tenderness of
Danny Elfman’s music box score helps preserve much of the emotion).
And yet for all that, I would hardly dissuade you from
undertaking the film’s journey. In the
film’s best characters—Finley the monkey, the young ceramic girl, and the bitter
Theodora—there is a wounded sweetness, a capacity to be hurt that is
unforgettable. And in their finest
moments, the film’s special effects help bandage those wounds, like in the
scene where Glinda soars above Oz is a rippling bubble, like an angel ascending
into some kind of color-rich heaven.
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