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Film Review: The Adventures Of Tintin: The Secret Of The Unicorn

'Plucky Belgian journalist seeks lost treasure with drunken seaman in swashbuckling adventure'. While this might sound like a salacious advert pulled from the naughty section of Craigslist, I can assure you that it is the plot for a new film involving one of the most recognisable childhood heros of a generation. That film of course is Steven Spielberg's incarnation of The Adventures of Tintin.

Tintin has a particularly unique effect on its audience, as is faithful to creator Hergé's male detective who possesses as much childlike wonder and naivety as he does the real-world acumen and perspicacity of an adult. And yet he has no discernable age. This is because Tintin, voiced by Jamie Bell, is a blank slate onto which we project ourselves; inoffensive and vacuously presentable, yet reacting to extraordinary situations in ways we might imagine should such events befall us. Tintin consequently appeals to the whole spectrum of ages watching it.

This is a theme which extends throughout the film, set in locations which, for example, may or may not be Paris, at a time which could be anywhere from the 1920s to the 1960s. It poses a strange paradox, almost like a dream in that Hergé's creation is both so rich in details, palpable to the senses and instantly recognisable, yet equally blank and unfurnished to the point where Tintin's setting is there and nowhere at the same time. But this is the magic trick, to create a vessel for our own imaginations.

To describe The Adventures Of Tintin as an endless, 'action packed' roller coaster would be a gross understatement in what is literally scene after scene of action set pieces. Admittedly everything looks mighty impressive in glorious CGI and everything is incredibly well choreographed, but it does get old and leaves our human protagonists disappointingly bare-boned. Nonetheless it will no doubt delight children, however to say the film is childish in its themes would also be a misjudgement. Perhaps surprisingly for a PG film, death is alluded to throughout as is the very real sense that bullets actually mean business. While gore is never visible, invariably scenes involving guns or sword-play end with some glimpse of fatality.

Moreover, take one Captain Archibald Haddock (Serkis), a drunken sailor from whom most of the film's humour stems from. We have here a man who thinks it prudent to stop off in the ship's galley and load up on bottles of whiskey while a bunch of goons with guns chase him and Tintin. Yes, stumbling about in a drunken stupor doing stupid things is funny, but Haddock's situation is so pathetic that it's almost pitiful. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but while it's all fun and games to restart a a piston engine by belching alcoholic fumes into it, it is perhaps not so funny when your alcoholism continuously endangers you and your friend's lives. Throughout, I was never quite sure what message Tintin was sending to children. Was it a warning to the dangers of alcohol? Or was it more an advertisement, as if to say 'hey, getting drunk is pretty fucking funny!'. Unfortunately despite the best efforts of our Captain, The Adventures Of Tintin is never outright hilarious. Sure I grinned, but it never evoked so much as a bawdy laugh from yours truly.

Tintin is nonetheless a true Spielberg film, sporting elements of Indy (and even shades of the Uncharted videogames) with the heart to match. Like with most of Spielberg's films this implores you to invest in Hergé's ensorcelling world, dazzlingly realised in gorgeous CGI. For the kid in all of us this is a high-spirited effort which has the capacity to delight. However, it is also somewhat disappointing that there isn't much fat to chew on here. A break for pause to catch one's breath would have been most welcome in places, but overall this is a fairly spunky and charming tale which is capriciously realised.

Film Review: Paul

For some inexplicable reason, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are deemed by many as some of the funniest muthafuckers this country has produced in the last ten years. This is in large part based on the successes of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. This then prompted many to revisit one of Pegg's first forays into comedy, the cult sitcom, Spaced. Bandwagon jumpers started calling the series "ahead of its time", as if to somehow justify its omittance from the comedy hall of fame. Let's be frank though, Spaced, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz are boring, drab and meandering works of beige. The jokes aren't particularly sharp or laugh out loud, hitting one with a muted, dull thud. On that note then, one, or rather I, might expect Paul to be much of the same tedious shit.

Graeme (Pegg) and Clive (Frost) are two British geeks living the dream. On holiday in America for the annual Comic-Con event, the two have plans to take a road trip to see where the whole alien mythology began - Area 51, Nevada. While driving one night, the duo make first contact with a crass, four-foot alien named Paul (Rogen). Discovering Paul is on the run from the authorities, Graeme and Clive agree to help the little fella get home, all the while pursued by bumbling government agents.

Paul marks the first time that Pegg and Frost have actually written a script together, and it shines through that the two real-life best buds had a lot of fun with it. Essentially, this is a road-movie with a sci-fi twist. Pegg's previous efforts in Shaun and Fuzz were co-written with Edgar Wright, who also directed both, and it is immediately evident that there is a marked difference in tone between those and Paul. And it's for the better. Paul is immediately more engaging, almost having an airier, lighter feel about it. Yes, critics might say this is more commercialized, but it is also more charming and delectable than its predecessors.

As you would expect, the homages to geekdom come thick and fast, with references to Aliens, Star Wars and just about any other sci-fi franchise you can think of. There's even a cameo from Sigourney Weaver. Unfortunately, the film misses a trick by failing to humiliate the entire lore and conventions surrounding such nerdy pursuits. It is disappointing that Pegg and Frost shied away from this, probably out of fear that they would offend their core audience. As such, the film descends into shock-value comedy, running with one particularly tiresome gag which alludes to Graeme and Clive being gay. But Paul has a saving Grace, and that is, well, Paul - a potty-mouthed, pot-smoking little grey alien donning a pair of cargos. Paul injects an energy otherwise lacking, acting as a catalyst which allows all the other characters to develop and play off. Indeed, it was this energy which was so sorely missing in both Shaun and Fuzz.

I'm sure, out there, some pompous, self-important, pseudo-intellectual who "adores" the "genius" of Pegg's earlier works will lambast Paul for being "too crude" and "shallow". But nothing could be further from the truth. Paul is accessible, emanating a genuine radiance of warmth not present in Shaun or Fuzz. Yes, it's a nerdy tribute to geeks the world over, but it's also funny and full of heart. Definitely Pegg and Frost's finest work to date.