The Cinema of the Four

Stardust

It was a considerable time before this consulting movie detective recovered from the strain of the Bourne case last week. A therapeutic viewing of “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry” (which will remain in the unwritten cases) was required in lieu of brandy. But on the second Saturday of August, it was no suprise for me to find myself once more in a comfortable theater seat, a solution of Diet Pepsi in one hand and a tub of salty, yet unbuttered popcorn in the other, watching “Stardust.”

“Stardust” the movie is a bit like “Stardust” the title. It’s a pretty thing, all magic and fuzzy memories, an enjoyable sort of dream that fades with time. It captures the book it was based on very well, a mature fairy tale of love, princes, witches, and more. If you’ve got little fantasy in your heart, this movie will be a delight. But I fear it won’t be a success with the masses, and here’s why.

“Stardust” is based on a Neil Gaiman book, a writer who first gained fame in comics for his intelligient and fantastic Sandman series. Compare that to graphic novelist Frank Miller, who rose to comic fame at about the same time. Miller’s “300” has just hit a second wave of popularity on DVD. Gaiman is a certified genius, whose imagination and cleverness will dazzle the intelligient reader, no matter what the tale. Miller’s no slouch either, but he’s a gut-puncher who works on a visceral level (which is probably why he sticks to comics and hasn’t ventured into prose novels as much). And the mass audience loves the gut-punch. Perhaps it’s those 15-to-25 male movie goers we hear so much of.

So “Stardust” doesn’t offer a gut-punch. What does it offer?

For the gentleman, ladies: Claire Danes channelling Gwynneth Paltrow and adding something sweet of her own to the mix, along with a little special effects buffing that will break the heart of many a thirteen-year-old who sees this film. (They like special effects girls, don’t you know.) Michelle Pfeiffer, alternating between beauty and crone, the sort of radiant evil that the Devil must love to set traps with. Kate Magowan as what Watson the Fourth tells me is a “MILF-deluxe.”

For the ladies, gentlemen: Charlie Cox demonstrates how to transform a nerd into a dashing, man-of-the-world. Robert De Niro becomes the one character that will finally charm any De Niro haters, of whom this writer has always counted himself one. If his Captain Shakespeare doesn’t defang all the monsters he’s played in the past, nothing will.

On a weekend when most of the world has gone to see the open-mouthed screaming “OHHH SHIIIIIIIIIITTTT!!!!!” comedy of “Rush Hour 3,” this one’s liable to get overlooked. If you’re into fantasy or fairy tales at all, however, you won’t want to miss it.

What great-grandfather Sherlock would have said:
“It takes some imagination, but it pays.”