Disney’s dazzling ‘Wrinkle’ could use a stitch in its time
Adolescent Meg Murry is troubled and troublesome, and her little genius brother Charles Wallace is likewise problematic, in his way. But can you blame them? Their brilliant physicist father discovered “tessering” — a quantum fifth-dimensional phenomenon of intergalactic space travel — and then suddenly disappeared.
That was four years ago, and they’ve been taunted and bullied about it ever since, by everyone except their gentle friend Calvin and, now, a trio of supernatural ladies offering to take them across the universe to find, reunite with and rescue their daddy.
Disney’s “A Wrinkle in Time,” the much-loved 1962 young people’s novel by Madeleine L’Engle (famously rejected by 26 publishers), is a sumptuous rendering of her family-friendly fantasy adventure in which the kids are enlisted as warriors against evil by three astral guides:
The beautiful Mrs. Whatsit (Reese Witherspoon) was chosen, she says, “for my great verbalizing and materializing skills.” The serene Mrs. Who (Mindy Kaling) is there to provide timely gems of Judeo-Christian-Buddhist wisdom. The powerful Mrs. Which (Oprah Winfrey), who has the most materializing to do, is there to be — well, powerful.
It’s an impressive feat, by any measure, for which director Ava DuVernay (”Selma,” 2014) had a $103 million budget and no fewer than 44 different production companies at her disposal. The list of special effects people in the final credits is longer than the Toledo phone book.
They did their job well. The film’s astounding visuals include (my favorite) gorgeous talking-flying flowers at the outset of the kids’ journey, followed by Mrs. Whatsit’s metamorphosis into a kind of stingray luxury airliner — eventually ferrying them to the planet Camazotz, where their father is trapped. There, the synchronized people bounce basketballs and do everything else with a single mind.
“Everything is taken care of, without options or alternatives,” we’re told. Daddy refused — and continues trying to resist the uber-evil “IT” who invades all with jealousy, anger and ridicule.
The screenplay by Jennifer Lee (“Frozen”) eliminates Meg’s additional twin brothers (and other elements) of the novel, even as it channels elements of the “Chronicles of Narnia” and “Bridge to Terabithia” stories. It benefits hugely from young Storm Reid as Meg, charming and believable throughout. In the book, she and her family are Caucasian, but here they’re multiracial — a slightly (not highly) controversial decision by the makers, in the hope of better relating to contemporary audiences of all ethnicities. It works — and jibes nicely with Frances McDormand’s “inclusion rider” exhortation at the Academy Awards ceremony.
Levi Miller as pal Calvin is an incredibly attractive, low-voiced, naturalistic but chaste love interest
opposite Meg. And Deric McCabe as cute telepathic Charles Wallace gets the role of his 6-year-old life — especially when he talks and acts like the evil “IT” (in the actual voice of David Oyelowo).
ChrisPine and Gugu Mbatha-Raw are fine as the protags’ parents. Likewise Zach Galifianakis as “The Happy Medium” and Michael Pena as the red-eyed puppet who lures Charles Wallace to his near doom. But what about thethree Mrs. W’s?
Oprah does yeoman service in her thankless role as a kind of giant Glinda, the good witch. But we must give a scream-out here to the single worst makeup job I’ve ever seen: Her Carrie Fisherlike hairdo (two Danish pastries on the sides), compounded by an inverted cone in the middle, makes her look like an outsized unicorn, at serious risk of sequin-and-glitter poisoning around the eyes and lips. There’s no need to gild the lily. Ms. Witherspoon and Ms. Kaling fare somewhat, if not much, better.
Re: the film’s surprising PG rating (for “some peril”): It’s extremely frightening moments are decidedly NOT for small children — unless potential psychotherapy is covered by your Cadillac health-insurance plan.
That said, its enduring message of love, nonconformity and, above all, feminine empowerment can’t be praised enough. But…
I try — God knows, I try — to follow these sci-fi cosmology-laden plots, with only partial success, at best. A stitch or two in “Time’s” script might’ve saved nine minutes of confusion as to why (and how and where) Calvin and Dr. Murry disappear during the climax with Meg and Charles Wallace.
“Tessering,” we’re told, involves folding the fabric of space and time. Before folding that fabric, they need to iron out a wrinkle or two for the inevitable sequel.