Winnie the Pooh

 

One of the most deservedly beloved children's stories of all time gets an affectionate filmic rendering notable for its delicate sense of restraint. Executed in the same elegant hand-drawn style of Disney's '60s and '70s era Pooh films, "Winnie the Pooh" retains an innocence of style and substance. Winnie (impeccably voiced by Jim Cummings, who also performs the voice of Tigger) interacts with pastel-colored storybook pages to bring the book's literal text to life with an appreciation for the words Pooh speaks. Still, "long words bother" him. Based on the fifth chapter from A. A. Milne's second Winnie the Pooh book "The House at Pooh Corner," the story involves the stuffed little honey-loving bear Pooh and his pals--Owl, Tigger, Piglet, Rabbit, Roo, and Eeyore--out on a journey to find, or at least replace, Eeyore's missing tail. Perhaps an umbrella, a balloon, or a chalk board will do. The gang also attempt to capture an invented monster known as a "Backson"--the result of a misspelled note left behind by Christopher Robin in which he meant to be back soon.

From an educational perspective, the lighthearted story places gentle importance on things like the value of proper spelling and putting friends and family first. The animals represent various character archetypes that range from slothful--Eeyore--to impossibly energetic--Tigger. Piglet is the well-meaning youngest member, while Owl possesses an overblown sense of ego and wisdom. The otherwise inanimate toys need their boyhood master Christopher Robin to guide them into action. >br> The filmmakers do an admirable job of making a palpable connection between Christopher Robin's stuffed animal collection to the imagined "Hundred Acre Wood" where his motley animal friends frolic. The closing title sequence reflects on the adventure with the stuffed toys placed as a child would play with them.

Gentle musical contributions hit a perfect pitch in line with the film's truly gifted vocal cast that includes John Cleese (the narrator), Craig Ferguson (the voice of Owl), and Jack Boulter (as the voice of Christopher Robin). The actors are clearly doing their best impressions of the franchise's iconic voices created by the likes of Sterling Holloway, Paul Winchell, and Sebastian Cabot. Zooey Deschanel's delightful singing on the theme song "So Long" is sweet enough to make you want to go back for more.

At just over an hour long, including an opening short cartoon "The Legend of Nessie," "Winnie the Pooh" is an ideal movie for the under ten set. This "Winnie the Pooh" is an instant classic.

Rated G. 63 mins. (A-) (Four Stars - out of five/no halves)

Nanny McPhee Returns

Love "Cole Smithey's Movie Week"? Help to meet my fund-raising goal of $10,000 to cover video production costs. Make a Donation. Every little bit helps and is greatly appreciated.

A Good Crone Atones
Children's Franchise Recovers With Polished Sequel
By Cole Smithey

A vast improvement over the 2005 franchise introduction of co-writer/actress Emma Thompson's Mary-Poppinsish household savior, "Nanny McPhee Returns" finds modern-day meaning in its World War II era English trappings. Gone is the garish fluorescent neon color palate, and mean-spirited themes that attended the poorly contrived initial installment. Where "Nanny McPhee" was based on the first of Christianna Brand's "Nurse Matilda" books, the sequel departs from the series to find the diabolically unsightly nanny coming to the aid of farm-owner Isabel Green (excellently played by Maggie Gyllenhaal). With her husband (Ewan McGregor) away at war, Isabel already has her hands full with three children (Norman, Megsie, and Vincent) before playing host to their hoity-toity London cousins, a brother and sister with a low regard for such a manure-entrenched environment. With her handy magical cane, and unsightly unibrow, Nanny McPhee arrives to make good on her promise to inculcate the unruly children with her "five lessons" that will leave the family members "wanting," but not "needing" her continued service. The ever-vivacious Maggie Smith adds her own distinctive flair as Mrs. Docherty, Isabel's shop owner-boss whose lacking sense of neatness is a major obstacle.

Although it's not stated that the war that Mr. Green serves in is specifically War World II, there are clues such as the '40s era Rolls Royce that delivers the bratty duo of Cyril (Eros Vlahos) and Celia (Rosie Taylor-Ritson) to the Green's "Deep Valley Farm." London is considered too dangerous a place for the children to stay.

A constant threat of foreclosure is conveyed daily by Mrs. Green's shady brother-in-law Phil (Rhys Ifans), whose secretly unpaid gambling debts include his half of the farm. Pursued by two dubious "hit women" debt collectors, who threaten to relieve Phil of his kidneys unless he pays up, Phil tries desperately to get Mrs. Green to sign away her half of the farm that she is barely able to keep up payments on. The circumstances are right out of 2010, when families are losing their homes while family members serve in far away wars. The anxieties the characters experience are directly related to the five lessons that Nanny McPhee ("small c, big P") promises to teach the five children. "Not fighting" and "sharing" are first up on Nanny's list. It's clear that the ethics at play are intended for the adult world of uncivilized behavior as much as for younger members of the audience.   

Yet, director Susanna White sculpts rather than hammers the themes that remove Nanny McPhee's unsightly features one-by-one as her lessons are gradually adhered to by the children. Gooey-eyed reveries of talented piglets that climb trees and do synchronized swimming give the movie an innocent flair of magical influence. Simon Elliott's production design is beautifully detailed and allows the viewer to savor everything that cinematographer Mike Eley ("Touching the Void") allows into the frame of the film's largely Oxfordshire locations.

The story's emphasis is as much on the children taking responsibility for their emotions and actions as it is about adults owning up for theirs. The film's defining sequence finds newly-bonded cousins Cyril and Norman chaperoned to London's "War Office" via Nanny's trusty sidecar motorcycle (another War World II allusion) to meet with Lord Gray (Ralph Fiennes) about Mr. Green's status in the war. The boys speak truth to power, in the guise of Lord Gray, with a disarming sincerity that melts your heart. Braveness too is on Nanny McPhee's list of must-have qualities, and it isn't exhibited in a way that you might expect. There's more than a little movie magic here and some very tidy performances from Gyllenhaal and Thompson to boot.

Rated PG. 109 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Rated PG. 109 mins.

Who the hell is Cole Smithey? First rotten review for Toy Story 3 ...

Buzz Kill

Why Toy Story 3 isn't as Good as 1 or 2

By Cole Smithey

Once you get past paying the inflated price for an animated "3-D" movie where the 3-D feels like an afterthought and nothing floats in front of your eyes as with quality 3-D films, the story that unfolds is more sad than joyful. It's also mean spirited in a divisive way that pits toys against toys in a war-like mentality not so far removed from captured prisoners in an occupied country. 

As well, the inappropriately cruel and drawn out climax sequence is too intense for younger children who will be lured into the "G-rated" film. The filmmakers go so far into Michael Bay territory that I shudder to think what the unformed mind of a five-year-old would make of such contrived suspense tactics as are employed here. When the toys travel down a long conveyer belt toward a fiery death, the filmmakers milk the sequence for all the suspense and panic they can muster. It might be right for a Transformers movie, but it's all wrong for "Toy Story."

"Toy Story 3" is about neglect, betrayal, and the planned obsolescence of plastic toys that end up as so much toxic landfill. So it's got all that going for it.

As the story goes, human boy Andy (voiced by John Morris) is off to college, and must finally put away childish things--something most boys do before junior high. Talk about arrested development--this kid isn't getting any dates.

Andy chooses to take his favorite toy, cowboy Woody (well voiced by Tom Hanks) with him to college, and pack away in his attic the rest of the toy gang that include Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen), cowgirl Jessie (Joan Cusack), and his Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head dolls (Don Rickles and Estelle Harris). Andy's careless mom--whose sense of parental responsibility is nonexistent, "accidentally" tosses out the trash bag filled with Woody's pals on the curb. Soon the gang of outcast toys--abandonment is a distressing theme smuggled into the story--are being abused by little kids at "Sunnyside" preschool where they end up.

It becomes cowpoke Woody's mission to rescue his fellow toys who are being kept as prisoners by the school's head honcho stuffed animal "Lots-o'-Huggin" Bear (Ned Beatty). Beatty's wolf-in-sheep's-clothing character poses the film's most egregious example of rendering a two-faced character who charms the new toys before showing his determinedly dastardly intentions against Buzz Lightyear after buttering up the sometimes heroic astronaut.    

The story devolves into a prison escape plot where the toys break character as much as they get their plastic hearts damaged at the cruelty of their treatment by the preschool's other toys. If you're looking for an instructional movie on how to make your kids act like they're bi-polar, this is it.

Buzz Lightyear spends part of the story as a "sir-yes-sir" product of brainwashed military training while Barbie's new heart-throb Ken turns out to be one duplicitous little eunuch. Again, we have yet another two-faced character who represents all the trustworthy qualities of a Wall Street banker. Wrongheaded and overly mature for young audiences, "Toy Story 3" sends some pretty dark messages for little ones to digest. And when I say dark, I mean bordering on sociopathic. A PG-rating would have been more appropriate for a film that definitely sends all the wrong messages, even to kids over ten.

Looking at all three “Toy Story” films reveals a similar trajectory to the “Spider-Man” franchise. In both series, the second movie is unmistakably the strongest of both trilogies. The first “Toy Story” couches Woody as a jealous and somewhat vengeful cowboy. Characters are repeatedly told to “shut up.” Most questionable is the film’s ground-rule-breaking climax where the toys cross an established line of not being animated in the presence of humans. When the toys confront Sid, the evil child antagonist, it taints the climax with a flawed deus ex machina device that reveals weaknesses in the writing. As well, the thematically overstated closing line, “We toys can see everything, so play nice,” hits too much on the nose.

By the time they made “Toy Story 2,” returning writer Peter Docter (writer on “WALL-E” and “UP”) and director John Lasseter (“A Bug’s Life”) had honed the franchise's tone to a finely pitched spectrum of musically nuanced, and visually lush, design to support its nostalgic underpinnings. Randy Newman’s “You’ve Got a Friend In Me” theme is thoughtfully repeated. Jesse’s song, about being “lonely and forgotten,” arrives in an autumnal setting that’s emotionally evocative as it is gorgeous. The filmmakers hit it rich with Woody’s discovery of his “Woody’s Roundup” television series origins. The introduction of cowgirl Jesse, the trusty horse “Bullseye,” and unreliable prospector Stinky Pete gives Woody an historical context and familial connection that anchors his character in a sophisticated way. Even the outtake scenes that play over the ending credits reinforce a reliability of narrative purpose that is sublimely humorous.

An obvious split between the accomplished progression of first two movies and the inferior last installment is the departure of the enormously talented writer Peter Docter from the franchise. John Lasseter’s demotion from director of TS1 and TS2 in favor of the lesser skilled writer/director Lee Unkrich (co-director on “Finding Nemo”) undoubtedly contributes to the lack of cohesion. Gone is the meticulous attention to color, and the glorious expressiveness of cultural touchstones expressed in “Toy Story 2.”

"TS3" is not as good as either of its two predacessors. That this fact slipped past nearly every other film critic in the world, will be chewed over in the pages of history for a very long time.

Rated G. 103 mins. (C+) (Two Stars - out of five/no halves)

Watch the Video Review Here

Shrek Forever After

Shrek Matures
Bourgeoisie Critics are Opposed
By Cole Smithey

The fourth installment in the animated Shrek franchise is the most polished example of the series. There's a dearth of children's films to which parents can take their little ones before repeatedly watching the DVD until the kids incorporate every line of dialogue into their daily speech patterns. Fortunately, "Shrek Forever After" is on target, filling the void. Even audiences new to the franchise will enjoy the slapstick tone and comic timing of these easily likable characters. The premise is simple enough. Finally and happily settled down with his ogre wife Fiona (Cameron Diaz) and their three babies, Shrek (voiced by Mike Myers) starts to yearn for his bachelor days, when every person and animal in the community feared his brutish gaze and stone-rattling roar. Shrek's ennui presents a perfect opportunity for Rumpelstiltskin (wonderfully voiced by Walt Dohrn), the kooky little fantasy–maker and con man. Mr. R convinces Shrek to sign away a day of his childhood in exchange for living a day free of all familial constraints. Naturally, the deal is a dirty trick played by the conniving Rumpelstiltskin, who plots to take over as king of the Far Far Away kingdom forever after. The film's theme--appreciating what you have while you have it--is supported, if only half-knowingly, by Shrek's loyal pals Donkey (Eddie Murphy) and a considerably chubbier Puss In Boots (Antonio Banderas). Although the film's 3D effects seem extraneous, the spunky vocal characterizations are enjoyably spot-on and the jokes funny enough to elicit laughs from kids of all ages.

There's a tendency among elitist film critics to pooh-pooh the Shrek franchise based on its longevity. They're ready to put the final nail in the coffin of a successful children's series ostensibly because they're embarrassed to have loved it so much when they were younger, and now feel obliged to distance themselves from it.

Shrek's status as a workaday dad who pines for his more vigorous youth must surely signal a disconnect between the filmmakers and the young souls these kind of movies typically cater to. It's an instance where post-modern meets retro reality. There's a supreme satisfaction in hearing the returning cast members' voices. Mike Myers underplays his current incarnation of Shrek, while Eddie Murphy lets loose at every opportunity. Cameron Diaz gives a more throaty delivery, and Antonio Banderas injects little comic touches into every word that Puss speaks.

It's possible that co-screenwriters Josh Klausner (writer on "Shrek the Third") and Darren Lemke have elevated the franchise into a territory of maturity beyond a threshold that bourgeoisie critics can stand. "Unnecessary" is a word used to describe a children's movie that by definition is quite necessary if you, well, have children. Which brings us to the film's broader appeal. Here is a Shrek movie with barely a fart or poop joke that speaks to a universal theme of appreciating the friends and family you have. When Shrek convinces the oblivious Donkey that he's his best friend, we feel recognized in the same way. When the fat little Puss drags sideways down his scratching post to greet Shrek, it's all the more funny because we know he's showing off for his pal. And when Fiona drops her she-warrior act long enough to allow a kiss from the ogre she was destined to be with forever after, we get that special kind of romantic charge that reminds us about why and how intimate relationships are important.

Rated PG. 95 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Where the Wild Things Are

Jonze Does Sendak a Solid
Popular Kids' Book Connects on the Big Screen
By Cole Smithey

With the blessing of "Where the Wild Things Are" author/illustrator Maurice Sendak, director Spike Jonze sincerely adapts Sendak's popular 1963 children's book to the big screen. Dave Eggers's co-writing screenplay credit speaks for the narrative amendments made in fleshing out the minimalist source material to fill up a feature film. Deploying a well-applied use of scale, Jonze creates the imaginary island world to which nine-year-old Max (Max Records) escapes when life with his divorced-and-dating mom (Catherine Keener) and distracted big sister Claire (Pepita Emmerichs) becomes too much for him. Dressed in a gray wolf pajama-styled costume, Max sets sail in a small sail boat and eventually arrives at the wooded home of a community of giant oddly shaped creatures. James Gandolfini (who played Tony Soprano in the popular HBO series) is the voice of Carol, a beast whose uncontrollable temper takes a toll on the stick-made huts that the group use for shelter, and serves as a refracted mirror of Max's behavior. In order to convince the beasts not to eat him, Max introduces himself as an explorer king and is accepted as such by the likes of woolly "KW" (Lauren Ambrose), a bird-like creature named Douglas (Chris Cooper), and Catherine O'Hara as naysayer Judith. Max has a hard time keeping the wild things happy, and learns some valuable lessons about communicating and thinking about the consequences of his actions. Spike Jonze's no-nonsense movie expands gently on Sendak's elegant 20-page kids' book to address children, acknowledging their primal impulses —which they must eventually control. While not an "instant classic," "Where the Wild Things Are" does what it sets out to achieve as a literal but also embellished translation of a literary classic.

Invented plot points and character traits (courtesy of Eggers and Jonze), like the mom's divorce-prompted circumstances, lends an undercurrent of misplaced anger that Max acts out with temper fits that include primal yells. Having Max only wear his favorite animal costume was Sendak's masterstroke of magical realism to support the duality of nature in a tangible way. Like the "animals" that Max befriends, the Lord of the Flies-styled leader wears a costume, or disguise, that carries all sorts of implications about how Max views himself and the world around him, before and after his adventure.

The filmmaker's embrace the minimalism of Sendak's graphic vision and respond with a lush natural atmosphere of imagination that's brought into perspective by the varying size ratio of the Wild Things opposed to that of the very small Max. In this area, the movie is very inviting. The famously expensive film gets its value from invisible special effects that animate the creatures with a curious brand of free association. There are moody design elements to savor--witness the giant fort that Max commands be built by his unpredictable subjects of another species. Here again, Jonze uses scale define the utopic community that Sendak created.

The book's way of saying everything by saying very little comes across in a fantasy story that's carefully balanced between the free expression of its child protagonist, and the gently-touched didacticism of Sendak's thematic message. The film rests on Max Records's shoulders, and the young actor is persuasive every step of the way. The ensemble cast of voice actors all hit their intended register perfectly without every distracting from the illusion of Max's dream. To experience the fantasy world of Maurice Sendak with such reverence to his subtle commentary on society and the confusions of being a child, is an enjoyable and enlightening experience.
(Warner Bros). Rated PG. 108 mins. (B-)

Inkheart

Funke's Flop
Children's Book Trilogy Makes a False Cinematic Start
By Cole Smithey

Based on Cornelia Funke's 2003 fantasy kid's novel, director Ian Softley ("The Wings of the Dove") makes a half-hearted adaptation that's further diminished by Brendon Fraser's signature boy scout performance as Mo Flochart. Mo is a "silvertongue"--that's somebody able to physically conjure up characters and elements of reality from any book that they read out loud. While on vacation in Italy with his 12-year-old daughter Meggie (Eliza Hope Bennett) bookbinder Mo finds what he's been searching for--an adventure novel entitled "Inkheart" with which he plans to bring back his wife Resa (Sienna Guillory), who was lost to the manuscript some years ago in exchange for a one of its fictional characters. Fire-juggler Dustfinger (Paul Bettany) pursues Mo to obtain the book so that he can return to his literary life within its pages. Meggie realizes that she too is a silvertongue right about the time that "Inkheart's" diabolical literary-figure-made-flesh Capricorn (Andy Serkis), makes his move with his minions to take over the world. Winged monkeys and a minotaur that you don't get a good look at make up some of the mediocre special effects in an unsatisfying kid's movie. 

Through flashback exposition we learn that when Meggie was three Mo read aloud from a book entitled "Inkheart," of which there are only five remaining copies, and brought to life Dustfinger, Capricorn, and a slew of lesser characters. Now on vacation, Mo and Meggie are houseguests to Meggie's wealthy aunt Elinor (Helen Mirren), whose antique-appointed estate becomes an easy target for Capricorn and his crew to tear apart. Capricorn kidnaps Meggie and Mo tracks down Fenoglio (Jim Broadbent), the author of "Inkheart," to get some much needed assistance in retrieving his daughter before she's made to read into existence more people and artifacts to aid in Capricorn's dastardly plans.

It's crushing to see an extraordinary actress like Helen Mirren ("The Queen") trying to feel her way through a movie so lacking in purpose that the audience never really knows what's at stake. As it turns out, Mo's wife Resa inexplicably has not been hiding in the pages of "Inkheart" for all these years, but rather has been living as a mute (her muteness is also never properly unexplained) prisoner servant in Italy. The story also falls apart on crucial issues of protagonist and antagonist. Namely, who is Resa other than a fading romantic idea for Mo and Meggie, and what exactly is Capricorn's plot? Capricorn is by far the film's most intriguing character, and Andy Serkis eats the scenery like Johnny Rotten at Pistol's performance. But Serkis's admirable energy is not nearly enough to compensate for the film's inexcusable lack of emotional or narrative grist. The film feels like some renaissance fair project. Even the gifted Jim Broadbent seems like a battery-operated character as the bumbling Fenoglio.
 
There's little evidence onscreen to demonstrate Cornelia Funke's status as the German J.K. Rowling. While it seems possible that the following two books in the trilogy ("Inkspell" and "Inkdeath") will eventually make their way to the big screen there's nothing in "Inkheart" to excite audiences about the proposition. 

Rated PG for fantasy adventure action, some scary moments and brief language. 105 mins. (New Line Cinema/Warner Bros. Pictures) (C-)
(Two Stars)

The Longshots

Directed by Proxy
Fred Durst Gives Hollywood a Limp
By Cole Smithey

Directed by Fred Durst (of the band “Limp Bizkit”), “The Longshots” is a cookie-cutter feel-good kid’s movie that seems like it was made by some faulty gadget stuck on auto-pilot. The movie’s basis in reality, about a teenaged girl in Harvey, Illinois that played quarterback on her high school’s football team, is submerged beneath a heavy sheen of slapdash filmmaking. Only Keke Palmer’s (“Akeelah and the Bee”) performance as naturally gifted athlete Jasmine Plumber keeps the movie afloat in the face of it lacking sense of realism, humor, or dynamics. Ice Cube curbs his already thin acting range as Jasmine’s knockabout Uncle Curtis who rises to the occasion to help lead Jasmine’s football team when their coach falls ill.

It’s impossible to talk about movies without taking into consideration the influence of their directors. The “auteur” stratagem for categorizing and analyzing directors whose original work carries identifiable themes and methods for working with actors and shooting conditions has ingrained itself into everyday discussion. But there’s a category of hack directors constantly being shoveled into Hollywood’s readymade system whose lack of fundamental competency insults the director’s job title with impunity. Such is the situation with Fred Durst, whose introduction into the Hollywood community comes as an exercise in remedial storytelling.

Durst never settles on whether Curtis or Jasmine is the protagonist of the piece, and puts the audience in the tedious position of waiting for one character to finally establish his or her dominance. It’s a waiting game that never pays off. It doesn’t help matters that Ice Cube (“Are We Done Yet?”) is allowed to carry on his trademark monotone hangdog delivery of dialogue that drags down every scene he’s in; and he’s in a lot of scenes.

The movie is ostensibly about members of an economically distressed American small town inspired by their local sports heroine to come together and make it the best place they can with the limited resources at hand. Nobody here has the common sense or motivation to look for a better life elsewhere. Everyone seems stuck in some naïve state of arrested development, with the possible exception of Coach Fisher (Matt Craven) who gets booted from the storyline to insure that Ice Cube can infect every bit of narrative space available. We get rah-rah community scenes in a church, in a Main Street bar, and in the bleachers at football games, but there’s never any signification of reality or inner life for any of the characters. When the locals come together to raise funds for their football team to travel to Florida to compete in the upcoming “Super Bowl” championships, even the large cash amounts being contributed seem out of sink with everything we’ve been led to believe about these characters.

“The Longshots” is a movie with no regard for details. It’s an idea for a movie that was passed off on someone with an idea about wanting to direct a movie. It’s surprising that Keke Palmer fares as well as she does and a testament to her acting ability that she’s able to elevate a movie that threatens to fall apart at any minute. If there’s a lesson here, it’s that you can and should judge whether or not to see a movie based on its director. Personally, I hope to never have to suffer through a film that gives its directing title to Fred Durst.

Rated PG. 94 mins. (Dimension Films) (D+) (One Star)

Nancy Drew

Besmirching Nancy Drew

The Mystery of the Missing Plot
By Cole Smithey

Hopes get dashed for a fresh Nancy Drew movie franchise (there were four such films made in the late ‘30s) with this less-than-perfunctory filmic update of the spitfire sleuth from the revered children’s book series. Making the most of her dad’s new attorney job in Los Angeles, Nancy (Emma Roberts) arranges to for the pair (her mom died long ago) to move into a disused mansion formerly occupied by Dehlia Draycott, a famous Hollywood starlet murdered on the property in the early ‘70s. Nancy breaks her fingers-crossed promise to dad to "give up sleuthing," and sets about exploring the suddenly spick-and-span estate overseen by one creepy caretaker named Mr. Leshing (Marshall Bell). Secret passages, a projector spooled with one of Dehlia’s old timey movies and plenty of "clues" send Nancy on a mission to solve the enigma of Dehlia’s death and locate her undiscovered daughter, the recipient of Dehlia’s hidden will.

At Hollywood High School Nancy’s stylish but outdated mode of dress makes her a prime target for dumb-and-dumber girlfriends Inga (Daniella Monet) and Trish (Kelly Vitz) who seem like they stumbled onto the wrong studio lot. There are few characters more rejected by their own movie than these two examples of female teen detritus. However, Nancy suffers fools gladly as is further evidenced by her bizarre affinity for Corky (Josh Flitter), a romantically pushy 12-year-old brother to one of the dumb girls. Much of the intended humor comes from Corky’s insistent passes at Nancy that she ambivalently accepts, even in the presence of her unmistakably p-whipped boyfriend Ned (Max Thieriot) when he delivers Nancy’s hallmark blue roadster from the small town of River Heights. Thieriot plays the thankless role with poker-faced modesty that belies the subtle humiliations his character chronically suffers.

The incoherent tone of the movie swings wildly between herky-jerky car chases, melodramatic ruses, and Nancy’s life-saving propensities that find her inexplicably performing an emergency tracheotomy with a ballpoint pen on the throat of a suffocating partygoer. The filmmakers flagrantly overlook the fact that many parents who grew up reading Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys will resent the spastic storyline that bears little resemblance to any of the formulaic books. It seems the farthest thing from rocket science for a skilled screenwriter to take any one of the nearly 200 Nancy Drew books and adapt it for modern film audiences. Instead, director/co-writer Andrew Fleming, and Tiffany Paulsen, have created a Frankenstein mishmash of teen movie tropes that resembles Nancy Drew only by way of costume designer Kathy Lucas’s smart designs.

Children’s book series like "Alfred Hitchcock Presents The Three Investigators" and Nancy Drew may not assimilate as "literature," but they are far more possessed of ethics than most modern day children’s books. It’s an utter embarrassment that this movie should even carry the Nancy Drew name.

Rated PG. 98 mins. (C-) (Two Stars)