Of course ultimately it didn’t really matter because The BFG, adapted from the classic Roald Dahl childrens’ book, was a box office bomb, the lowest grossing movie of Spielberg’s career in fact. Already it seems to have been largely forgotten, and it shouldn’t be; not just because it is indeed better than its box office receipts would suggest, but it marks a rather interesting move for Spielberg, consciously revisiting the sweet and adventurous spirit he became accidentally associated with after his story of a lonely boy befriending an alien.
An insomniac orphan Sophie (Ruby Barnhill) is interrupted in her reading when she sees an old giant (Mark Rylance) out her window. Capturing her for spotting him, the giant whisks her away back to his home of Giant Country where he reveals a kind nature in spite of this; and as he delights her with his dream catching, he keeps her safe from the other much larger giants who eat humans.
The BFG is Spielberg’s most shamelessly family-oriented movie since Hook. It’s whimsical and magical and flies in the face of the kind of logic he’s consciously tried to maintain in his films for nearly thirty years. And unlike many of his other projects lately his heart seems to really be in it. There’s a gleeful tone throughout the movie that suggests even in the stuff that doesn’t work that Spielberg is having fun with the material. And the material of course does necessitate a certain degree of that. The works of Roald Dahl are regularly in the adaptation cycle, often coming from quite distinct directors, with The BFG being preceded most notably by Wes Anderson’s take on The Fantastic Mr. Fox seven years earlier. Spielberg’s interpretation of Dahl certainly plays up the wonder and the fantastical parts of the story; and he’s very interested in the details of the world of Giant Country, particularly as Sophie sees it. He really gets to be more creative than he’s been allowed on his serious films and you can tell the old guy relishes it.
But another thing Spielberg infuses the movie with is comedy, and even given the subject matter and child-oriented whimsy, it’s a little too lame and juvenile most of the time. Two largely comedic routines, an extensive giant slapstick-action sequence and the BFG having tea with the Queen, drag on far too long, the latter of which is followed by a fart joke from an early 2000s kids film. Little jokes dotted throughout often miss their mark as well or were never funny to begin with.
The movie additionally suffers from its overuse of CGI, a phrase that’s not exactly a stranger to Spielberg at this point in his career. Don’t get me wrong, motion-capture was definitely the way to go, and the BFG himself looks mostly great, but the compositing isn’t always consistent to the point it strains believability at times that he and Sophie occupy the same space. The motion-capture on a whole is very much in the same vein as Tintin but Tintin had the advantage of no real people showing up in the movie. The other giants only work in small doses and apart from Sophie, Spielberg does nothing in this movie small. There are some loud, effects-heavy sequences (and characters) that stand out only for their visual shortcomings. In contrast to this however, there are scenes where the CGI is used quite well and creatively –such as the BFG’s many ways of disguising himself on the way from London back to Giant Country, or the whole Dream Land sequence.
Moments like these demonstrate that there is a strong movie beneath the distracting special effects and humour. The BFG is really a movie about standing up to bullies, and is so earnest in this message it’s almost effortlessly heartwarming. This film is the reunion of Spielberg and screenwriter Melissa Mathison from E.T., and a trace of that films’ magic is certainly recaptured. The two share a theme of loneliness and both are characterized by a charming tone that’s just innocent enough it’s impossible to adamantly dislike. This was Mathison’s final movie; it came out nine months after her death in November of 2015 and was appropriately dedicated to her. For the writer of E.T., The Black Stallion, and The Indian in the Cupboard (as well as Scorsese’s Kundun of all things), it was a pretty good close on the career and legacy of perhaps the best family-adventure movie screenwriter in Hollywood.
Doing justice to her material well enough is a cast led by the classically-trained, seasoned thespian now playing a fairy-tale story giant, Mark Rylance. Rylance doesn’t seem inhibited by the motion-capture and manages to be grumpy and frustrated and gentle and fearful quite convincingly. He seems to be playing the part as a really kind but mentally handicapped old man; illiterate, unable to remember or use certain words, and often acting confused. And he pretty quickly gains your sympathy even if his northern accent is a bit over-the-top. And despite a slow start, Ruby Barnhill’s performance as Sophie manages to work fairly well as a precocious but believably brave and intuitive young girl. Her status as an orphan is a cheap way of gaining sentiment but she plays it cleverly. And most importantly she manages to have chemistry with the BFG despite not working directly with Rylance a lot of the time. Towards the end she especially feels like other Dahl characters: Charlie Bucket or Matilda.
Jermaine Clement plays the lead bully giant called the Fleshlumpeater and is an okay fit if performing well beneath his skills. Bill Hader and Ólafur Darri Ólafsson are barely recognizable as other giants, and Adam Godley only is because his giant shares the actors’ rather large ears. The often underrated Penelope Wilton plays an alternate universe version of Queen Elizabeth II who actually wields power and is shockingly open-minded about the existence of giants. This sequence late in the film requires a very heavy suspension of disbelief, but you just have to go along with it -it’s right out of a kids’ storybook and Wilton understands that. In fact what’s probably more unbelievable is that Rebecca Hall and Rafe Spall play her maid and butler, but have such small roles in the story (Spall maybe gets three lines) that they really could have been played by anybody. Yet having talented actors in these roles isn’t a bad thing at all, with Hall being the one to nail that last scene with Sophie.
So while the movie is mostly mediocre, it has moments of greatness and a genuine emotionality to it. But why was it such a box office failure? Could it be that Spielberg’s name alone isn’t enough to sell a movie anymore? Could it be that something so child-oriented and saccharine turned off audiences who expected action, thriller, or drama movies from the director? I think it might’ve been a mixture of these things (and also quite likely the unfortunate position of opening opposite the third in the bafflingly successful Purge series and contending with the continuing successes of Captain America: Civil War and Finding Dory to the point it kind of got lost in the mix -case in point, I didn’t review it); but also, Roald Dahl stories don’t quite have the power they once had. The BFG was not only the first live-action Dahl film in eleven years, but it’s also not a story that translates particularly well to a modern mainstream market with its quasi-fairy tale plot, juvenile outlook, and lack of any drive until the third act. It more or less has to get by on charm.
And I think it does for the most part. It may not be one of his best family movies, but I think The BFG is a special little Spielberg effort that in spite of some technical clumsiness and its CGI reliance, shows genuine artistry and craft that speaks to an experienced filmmaker. In the way he lingers on the magical moments and the environment, shows the processes behind the giant world, immerses you fully in Sophie’s point of view, and gently weaves an endearing relationship between two strange characters, The BFG is the closest to a Miyazaki movie Spielberg has ever made. Of course, this isn’t all down to him; Mathison was the story consultant on the English-language translation of Ponyo after all, which explains a lot about the heightened whimsical, fantastical, and even goofy execution of the story.
I feel like The BFG is ultimately going to have a similar effect to Spielberg’s last family-fantasy movie Hook, which likewise wasn’t much of a success commercially or critically. But much like how Hook’s reputation has elevated with time into a nostalgic classic, so too do I think The BFG is going to leave a lasting impact on the children of the 2010s.
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