Steven Spielberg's motive behind The Adventures of Tintin reveals
itself as an exuberant burst of nostalgia. What is the boyish reporter
of Hergé's beloved comic series — trotting the globe in pursuit of
mysteries — if not a continental cousin of Indiana Jones, his head
capped with a quiff instead of a fedora? Within the first few pages of
“The Crab with the Golden Claws” — one of the books that sourced this
film; the others are “The Secret of the Unicorn” and “Red Rackham's
Treasure” — Tintin hastens from his home in the city to a drug-running
ship, after which he is found adrift in the middle of the ocean, from
where he commandeers a hovering seaplane and crashes into a North
African desert.
In short, The Adventures of Tintin, with the hero and his cohorts
on the trail of treasure from a sunken vessel, could just as easily
have become an Indiana Jones movie: Raiders of the Lost Barque. And it has. This is more Spielberg's Tintin than Hergé's.
But that isn't altogether a bad thing. If The Adventures of Tintin
looks like something Spielberg could have done in his sleep, that's
still a lot more entertainment than what most other directors can
manufacture while wide awake.
From the moment we glimpse Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis) through a
recently drained bottle of whiskey — what better way to show off a
souse? — Spielberg demonstrates that he still has in him the sense of
play from the days he was wrestling with a malfunctioning model shark.
The action set pieces, especially, are a joy, combining cliff-hanger
scenarios with delirious slapstick.
The performance-capture technology, which uses the movements and
expressions of live actors as the basis for computer-generated
simulations, is just right. Early on, we see each strand of hair in
Tintin's (Jamie Bell) quiff catch the breeze and come alive, waving like
stalks of wheat in a golden field, and as he walks past a shop with
mirrors, his reflections are exactly how they would be from those
angles. Yes, this is the technical team showing off, but no more than a
ballerina balanced on a toe with supreme poise. They do it because they
can, and we watch transfixed. Some of the transformations made me
quibble — Nestor isn't as perpetually pained as I imagine him (he comes
across as stolid), and surely Bianca Castafiore's High Cs sprang from a
more cavernous bosom — but the artistry is breathtaking to behold.
There is so much to enjoy in “The Adventures of Tintin” that it's a
shame the film adds up to little more than a collection of set pieces.
When Tintin and Co. aren't swooping into thunderclouds or plunging into
oceans, we are left with leaden time, and it's because the characters
are mere triumphs of technology. They have no spark, no soul. We never
get a grip on Tintin, who remains a blandly eager cipher. Hergé solved
this problem by letting us hear him think — we followed his intuitive
processes through thought bubbles. But here, the din of action drowns
out all thought.
Far more tragically, Captain Haddock is just a man with a huge honker.
(The honker, however, is exactly right.) A large part of the comedy in
the comics comes from his insults — the result of inspired crossbreeding
between marine life and made-up languages — and we imagined them as
spittle-flecked ejaculations. But here, a mouth-watering put-down like
“yellow-bellied lily-livered sea slugs” is delivered like a dramatic
declaration, as if it were a wan line of dialogue. If there's going to
be a sequel, as the last scene promises, they'd do well to fill this
sailor with spirit.
The Adventures of Tintin
Genre: Action-adventure
Director: Steven Spielberg
Cast: Daniel Craig, Jamie Bell, Simon Pegg
Storyline: Tintin and cohorts go after a fabulous sunken treasure.
Bottomline: Nicely staged action, though the characters deserved better.
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