Sunday, September 12, 2010

Film review: Shrek the Third- the Sunday Times Review

http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/film/film_reviews/article1994474.ece

Children may devour the slapstick, but the once-mighty Shrek has somehow lost all his charm and spiky humour

James Christopher

Now is the winter of Shrek’s discontent made glorious summer by box-office gold. But Princess Fiona is big with child. His royal father-in-law (a frog) is about to croak. And the business of ruling Far Far Away will fall upon the ogre unless he can get a weedy relative called Arthur to sit on the throne. Shrek aches for his swamp like Richard III once ached for a crown.

Unfortunately, that’s the full extent of his Shakespearean ambition to which the title – Shrek the Third – playfully alludes.

Not so Prince Charming. Rupert Everett’s vainglorious ham can’t get enough of the stage, even if he has to relive his fading moments of glory in grim theatrical dives. Tired of being heckled every night, Charming rallies an army of fairytale villains and storms the streets of Far Far Away.

These days he may be best known as a CGI moggy in Shrek movies, but Antonio Banderas still does a passable global sex god

His dastardly plan to pinch the crown chimes with Shrek’s desire to capitulate. The plug-eared monster feels imprisoned by duty. He is stapled into Restoration frocks, and he manages to sink more ships with a bottle of champagne than he actually launches. Worse, he has nightmares about becoming a father.

Like all the previous Shreks, the story, penned by seven authors, hinges on a journey where the grumpy ogre is forced to eat humble pie. Fans will choke on the déjà vu. Shrek’s quest to transform Justin Timberlake’s Arthur from a medieval high-school drip into a regal winner is as novel as Tesco.

Children will devour the slapstick. Adults will mourn the lack of fresh spin. There are only so many times you can recycle characters such as Donkey, Puss In Boots and Pinnochio before you feel as if you’re in a launderette rather than a film.

Even Mike Myers’s mighty ogre is a washout. Shrek is not half as beastly as he used to be. The tantrums are more Paris Hilton than Richard III, the Scottish accent is on the slide, and I’ve got serious issues about the size of his head. In some scenes his mug looms as large as a hot-air balloon. In others it looks like a ping-pong ball.


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