Dreamlike and unforgettable, this beautifully written, darkly sexualised retelling of the classic fairy story Red Riding Hood features gorgeous period sets and a cast that is committed to the unnerving 'man-as-animal’ metaphors at the heart of a terrifying folktale. It is a film perfectly suited to a mature, modern audience.
It’s called The Company of Wolves (1984), and was made by Irish filmmaker Neil Jordan and it’s great, really.... and just out on DVD, too.
Comparatively, Catherine Hardwicke’s version of Red Riding Hood is a turgid disgrace.
No doubt borne from a Hollywood focus-group session that suggested the marketplace demanded another mopey teenage fantasy-romance, ala Twilight, Hardwicke and screenwriter David Johnson reduce the 'blossoming womanhood’ symbolism of the age-old fairytale to hoary, muddled werewolf-bloodline malarkey. Such a spin might have worked if other key elements delivered, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a film this year that features flimsier sets, cheesier acting or more unintentionally hilarious dialogue. (We critics use this phrase a lot, but a packed preview audience who guffawed during several dialogue-heavy scenes will vouch for its accuracy.)
Set in a snowbound woodland village some time long ago (we assume, though everyone has perfectly glowing skin and luscious hair), the film introduces us to the ripe-for-the-plucking Valerie (Amanda Seyfried) as she flirts with Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), her sweetheart since childhood. Peter is a bit of a ne’er-do-well so Valerie’s family (mum Virginia Madsen, her career resurrection well and truly over, and dad Billy Burke) set her up to marry the dandy Henry (Max Irons, displaying none of his father’s charisma or talent). Wedding plans seem to take everybody’s mind off the death of Valerie’s older sister, who was mauled in the town square by a wolf that strikes when the moon is full. The villagers leave that inconvenience to wolf-hunter Solomon (Gary Oldman, already clearing shelf space for that Razzie); they grant him the freedom to torture information out of the townsfolk by putting them inside his giant elephant-shaped oven. ('I got it from the Romans.")
Valerie seeks solace and wisdom from her Grandma (a truly loopy Julie Christie), who has seen some weird stuff in her years as the village’s matriarch and hints at the secrets held by the art department’s collection of fake thatch huts. Their 'My, what big eyes you have..." scene – the dramatic moment that should be the raison d'être for the existence of any Red Riding Hood adaptation – is reduced to an ineffectual, out-of-context dream sequence that drew hoots of derision and mocking applause.
Seyfried bears the weight of this embarrassing mess on her straining shoulders. Her doe-eyed innocence and pouty come-hither presence on-screen hints at what other incarnations of the film might have looked like, in the project’s development. She’s a lovely, talented actress whom I want to keep watching, but her career choices are making that task increasingly challenging; over the last few years she has been determined to accept roles that allow her to be the best thing about bad movies. (Mamma Mia!, 2008; Jennifer’s Body, 2009; Chloe, 2009; Dear John, 2010; Letters to Juliet, 2010). If that is indeed her strategy, then Red Riding Hood is her crowning achievement.
Hardwicke, too, once promised so much. She got the gig directing the first Twilight film because of her brilliant handling of young female angst in her breakout hit, Thirteen (2003). But she mired herself in author Stephanie Meyer’s cheesy portrayal of sullen teen romance and pours petrol on the fire with Red Riding Hood. Her actors seem left to their own scenery-chewing devices; her depiction of her young male leads’ lustful longings is particularly terrible. And the CGI wolf, with whom Valerie shares a telepathic bond (oh, brother...) further enforces Hollywood’s fascination with badly-rendered lupine villains; it’s as unconvincing as the rest of the film’s forced reality.
But enough about that. The one positive thing that comes from the debacle that is Red Riding Hood is the opportunity to show some The Company of Wolves footage. It’s such a quality film. (That’s Angela Lansbury as Grandma.)
