Review by aslett

Spielberg won't get the credit he deserves for it. That's the way it is with successful directors. If this was by a relatively new presence we would be fawning over them, calling them a genius. (Or genii, as this involves at least two big talents, Spielberg and Peter Jackson). Remember what was said about Monet? "Just an eye, but what an eye!" Well, these two men each have a fantastic eye and more than that in spades. It is a good story if not a great story. Young Tintin buys a model boat that is stolen by villains and he is sucked into a mystery involving lost treasure and family vengeance. The cartoon element of the characters does detract from our emotional involvement, as does the peculiarly uncomplicated nature of the hero. But I think everyone should see this movie because of the way it blurs our distinction between the world and its imitation. Those same people who criticized Spiderman's CGI movements might well have occasional words to say here but I'll ignore them too. This is not the comic brought to life or the real world in animation. Not a Toy Story or an Avatar. This is the world reinvented. You can do what you want now, unhindered by bleary eyed actors with agendas of their own. Forget gravity or rainy days – unless they help the story. Jackson's production company has produced a world that sparkles like our own. (Perhaps better if you come from the same place I do). Andy Serkis is the star (for me) and does a fantastic turn as Captain Haddock with a raw Scottish accent that happily rises to a Sean Connery impersonation from time to time. I say 'happily' because the villain is played by another Bond, Daniel Craig who would have done better to showboat a little to keep up. Jamie Bell has a direct, youthful, no-messing part as Tintin – a wise choice as he never sounds whiny. The brilliant pair of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are unnecessary as the overly stupid Thompson Twins. But things other than people crave your attention too because they appear to have been created with such care: the swell of the waves, flaming sails, the glimmer of cobbles, inky clouds around crackling lightening, the glow of skin in sunlight, and on and on… It has to be compared to Martin Scorcese's more human Hugo for a variety of reasons but I'll mention only one. Scorcese begins his film in a suitably cinematic and impressive way with an impossible long take in Hitchcock fashion, the camera wending its way like the eye of a God narrator, through windows and buildings and over constrictive machinery. Spielberg waits nearly an hour and a half before giving us a two and a half minute sequence of continuous choreographed adventure. It's a chase for secret documents, the maguffin, down a sparkling hillside in North Africa on a motorbike that will eventually fall apart while buildings are torn asunder and characters woven in and out of frame in a complexity that boggles the brain. The thing to do is forget your qualms and skepticism about CGI and animation. It's a film I wish I could watch as a young boy in 12 B.C. (Before Critics).