'Annie': Film Review
The Bottom Line: The sun'll come out tomorrow, by which time this toxic mess should be forgotten.
Opens: Friday, Dec. 19 (Sony)
Cast: Jamie Foxx, Quvenzhane Wallis, Rose Byrne, Bobby Cannavale, Cameron Diaz, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, David Zayas, Stephanie Kurtzuba
Director: Will Gluck
The overwhelming impression from this very loose remake — directed with a stunning lack of musicality by Will Gluck (Easy A, Friends With Benefits), who co-wrote the witless screenplay with Aline Brosh McKenna (The Devil Wears Prada) — is that the creative team doesn't actually like the material much. If not for gushing testaments in the press notes, you might be tempted to think they're embarrassed by it.
All but a handful of the existing songs have been shredded, often retaining just a signature line or two and drowning it in desperately hip polyrhythmic sounds, aurally assaultive arrangements and inane new lyrics. The original songs, by Sia, Greg Kurstin and Gluck, are forgettable synthetic riffs that recall those boring filler tracks you skipped over on old Justin Timberlake albums. Considering that among the film's producers is Jay Z, whose 1998 sampling of "It's the Hard-Knock Life" was an epic encounter in pop-culture history, this bland R&B/hip-hop Muzak is a disappointment
Every ounce of charm has been pulverized out of the musical in a strained effort to drag it into the social-media age. What's even sadder is that the same could be said for the film's young star, Quvenzhane Wallis, who brought heroic authenticity to her role in Beasts of the Southern Wild, creating a lyrical poster child for the marginalized poor. Here, she's reduced to one-note, processed pluckiness, as if she's been cloned from those overconfident children of Will and Jada Pinkett Smith; the latter couple optioned the material and are also producers.
Putting aside the grating performances, the clumsy direction, the visual ugliness and the haphazard development of story, character and relationships, the movie is hobbled by its intrinsic unsuitability for contemporary retelling.
The Bottom Line: The sun'll come out tomorrow, by which time this toxic mess should be forgotten.
Opens: Friday, Dec. 19 (Sony)
Cast: Jamie Foxx, Quvenzhane Wallis, Rose Byrne, Bobby Cannavale, Cameron Diaz, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, David Zayas, Stephanie Kurtzuba
Director: Will Gluck
The overwhelming impression from this very loose remake — directed with a stunning lack of musicality by Will Gluck (Easy A, Friends With Benefits), who co-wrote the witless screenplay with Aline Brosh McKenna (The Devil Wears Prada) — is that the creative team doesn't actually like the material much. If not for gushing testaments in the press notes, you might be tempted to think they're embarrassed by it.
All but a handful of the existing songs have been shredded, often retaining just a signature line or two and drowning it in desperately hip polyrhythmic sounds, aurally assaultive arrangements and inane new lyrics. The original songs, by Sia, Greg Kurstin and Gluck, are forgettable synthetic riffs that recall those boring filler tracks you skipped over on old Justin Timberlake albums. Considering that among the film's producers is Jay Z, whose 1998 sampling of "It's the Hard-Knock Life" was an epic encounter in pop-culture history, this bland R&B/hip-hop Muzak is a disappointment
Every ounce of charm has been pulverized out of the musical in a strained effort to drag it into the social-media age. What's even sadder is that the same could be said for the film's young star, Quvenzhane Wallis, who brought heroic authenticity to her role in Beasts of the Southern Wild, creating a lyrical poster child for the marginalized poor. Here, she's reduced to one-note, processed pluckiness, as if she's been cloned from those overconfident children of Will and Jada Pinkett Smith; the latter couple optioned the material and are also producers.
Putting aside the grating performances, the clumsy direction, the visual ugliness and the haphazard development of story, character and relationships, the movie is hobbled by its intrinsic unsuitability for contemporary retelling.