‘The BFG’ opens up a big new world
Steven Spielberg’s latest pairs an orphan girl and a giant; read the review
Amid a vocabulary-challenged big man, a precocious orphan and some flatulent corgis, director Steven Spielberg creates a colorful landscape full of kid-friendly sights in The BFG.
An adaptation of Roald Dahl’s 1982 children’s book of the same name, The BFG ( eee out of four; rated PG; in theaters nationwide Friday) stars Oscar winner Mark Rylance ( Bridge of Spies) as the voice and likeness of the very large computer-generated title character who befriends the young “human bean” Sophie (Ruby Barnhill).
The BFG (short for Big Friendly Giant) delicately takes the British girl to his home — to keep her from alerting the proper authorities that a 24-foot-tall dude is running around — and the twosome set off on a grand adventure that goes from the streets of London to Giant Country to Buckingham Palace.
For some, it might be a little too safe. There’s never a sense that Sophie is in any real danger, even when surrounded by a bunch of ginormous cannibalistic giants who mock the relatively runt-size BFG. While the screenplay expands Dahl’s plot, it’s still very much on the simplistic side, albeit perfect for a younger crowd.
With huge ears and a bigger heart, the BFG takes Sophie under his wing and shows her his world, which includes his vegetarian diet of fetid snozzcumbers and a vast collection of bottled dreams (good and bad, but always visually beautiful) that he gives out to sleeping children. Full of adolescent attitude, Sophie initially wants to go back home to her cat and orphanage but falls for the (to her) massive world and the BFG’s personality and wacky way for words (for example, “strawbunkles” for strawberries).
The Fleshlumpeater (voiced by Jemaine Clement) and his posse of man-eating giants become a problem for BFG and Sophie, so the girl ends up getting the Queen (Penelope Wilton) involved, though the movie’s royal sequence is a means to a happy ending and one epic fart joke. (Gas is a running theme, because for the BFG, “whizpopping ” is “true happiness.”)
Spielberg smartly utilizes the strengths of many of his usual collaborators, starting with his latest one. Through performance capture, Rylance brings a gentle goodness but also a world-weary gravitas to the BFG — there is tragedy to his story that he has to overcome. While the BFG himself is a remarkable special effect, there are a few CGI stumbles inserting a little girl into his world and trying to make it look real.
John Williams composes a sprawling, effervescent score that, while not his best, certainly captures the musical magic that makes his partnership with Spielberg so special.
The movie also acts as a tribute to screenwriter Melissa Mathison, who died of cancer in November. Although E.T. will always be Mathison’s shining Spielbergian moment, she explored a similar childish wonder in adapting
The BFG, weaving in a sense of melancholy amid themes of bravery and tolerance.
With its lack of dramatic action, The BFG doesn’t rise to the ranks of the director’s familyfriendly best, but it’s still a froth-buggling, jumps-quiffling good time.