Film Review | Snow White and the Huntsman

Fantasy is hard work. Contrary to popular belief, crafting a world populated by fairies and unicorns is a lot harder than spinning the grittiest of arthouse dramas. It's a matter of making the otherworldly seem real - at least for the odd couple of hours - and that requires a certain artistic stamina.

One that a rookie director whose CV consists entirely of random spurts of television work would almost certainly not be armed with.

Alas, Rupert Sanders has - inexplicably enough - been called in to fill that unenviable spot for Snow White and the Huntsman, a post-Twilight-and-Game-of-Thrones revamp of the classic children's tale.

Sadly, his misjudged appointment - resulting in a muddled, structurally unsound mess of a pseudo-epic - is only one of among the film's many crucial missteps.

The evil sorceress-queen Ravenna (Charlize Theron) rules the land (we can call it Anonymous Fairyland) with an iron fist, having usurped the throne from the widowed King Magnus after seducing him into marriage. Assured by her trusty mirror - now a mercurial presence reminiscent of those transformation scenes from Terminator 2 - that her beauty will keep her position secure.

Until, that is, Snow White (Kirsten Stewart) comes of age and decides to break out of her prison thanks to a conveniently located rusty nail and an apparently instinctive skill at horse-riding...

The film's muddled fantasy-logic informs us that Ravenna needs Snow White's 'pure' heart to maintain the good looks that are so essential to her remaining in power (I know, it doesn't make sense to me either), and so our scenery-chewing evil monarch enlists the help of a drunken, widowed huntsman Eric (Chris Hemsworth) to bring Snow White back to the castle alive.

But the huntsman's treacherous journey into the supernaturally-tinged dark forest leads him to stray from his mission... and to discover that there might just be more to Snow White than meets the eye.

Transforming Snow White into a fantasy epic in the same vein as Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland is a bit of a silly concept, but the trailers looked fun, and just because something is a bit silly doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.

The problem here is sloppiness. Sanders and co. take the fantasy world for granted, and expect you to do the same. But if the ground rules of the fantastical landscape aren't clearly defined, it feels as if you know what's behind the magic trick as it's being performed in front of you.

What's worse is that this jarring effect infects the film from the word go: we would believe that the King instantly falls for Ravenna in a Disney fairy tale context, but amid the clatter of armour and the gritty squelch of mud-caked medieval villages, it just doesn't blend in well. Neither can the filmmakers, it seems, make up their collective minds about what Ravenna's powers really are (and it definitely is a collective effort: the film is scripted by a committee of three, and it feels like an uninspired patchwork propped up by studio heavies rather than creatives).

These unforgivable structural problems are a shame, because we could at least have had a vibrant bit of guilty fun: Snow White pummelling bad guys in shining armour, accompanied by Thor, all the while being leered at by the striking presence of Theron in a variety of outrageous costumes.

And the mess isn't even remotely elevated by the acting. The 'seven dwarves' (re-imagined as a band of scruffy woodland bandits) boast some dramatic heft among their numbers - including Bob Hoskins, Ray Winstone, Ian McShane and the always-dependable Nick Frost - but caked under so much make up and gracelessly tacked-on to the plot as they are, you begin to wonder why they were even included in the first place.

The shortcomings of our female leads are more depressing, though. Stewart is rapidly proving herself to be her generation's Keanu Reeves, with her one-expression style that suits the bland Twilight crew but won't do here, where she's expected to come of age on screen, kick ass in the process and lead an army by the end.

Theron fares only slightly better. The South African beauty does bring some creepy gravitas to the role, but whenever she's required to shout it descends into overacting territory.

Which leaves us with the suddenly-Scottish-accented Hemsworth, who stumbles along with a smeared face and a messy beard wondering what the hell just hit him.

He'll probably be roped into the recently-announced sequel... and he's probably as confused with that decision as the rest of us.