Monday, June 4, 2012
Squalor: Snow White and the Huntsman
I'd love to blame the studio and say that somewhere along the way they decided that the best audience for a Snow White remake was one made up of Twihard tweens and the K-Stew curious. It would make for an easy out, and a excellent excuse for all the half-baked purple romance, vacant staring, over-dramatic yowls, and the plain and simple fact that Snow White seems to have been diluted somehow further beyond the flat fairy symbol we already knew. This isn't the Kristen Stewart who pulled a dead-on Joan Jett out of her ass. This is the K-Stew who mopes around Forks and pines for a vampire. She is a pretty little thing, but as dull as the film is long. Hemsworth, too, provides little more than eye candy. His dialogue makes one long for any scrap of pompous boasting that hit the cutting room floor on last year's Thor. Together, they stare. They seem to stare at absolutely everything. Into the distance, at each other, at awakened trolls, into the darkness, at the leaves, all over the place. Everything here relies on the presence of an icy Theron, and as divine as her character may be, even she's doing some over-the-top dial-a-meltdown work here. In a camped up fantasy, those meltdowns could have worked. Snow White and the Huntsman, though, is not a work built for levity.