THE LITTLE MERMAID (2023)

Still riding the waves of the lucrative but creatively bankrupt trend of live-action remakes of beloved properties, Disney’s reworking of The Little Mermaid is playing in cinemas as of today. This fantasy musical, which takes its name from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale, is led by Halle Bailey as Ariel while support is provided by Melissa McCarthy as the scene-stealing Ursula and Javier Bardem as the noble and magisterial Triton, monarch of Atlantica. The story, which you will no doubt remember, involves a young mermaid who makes a Faustian deal with a treacherous sea witch: she trades her beautiful voice for human legs in order to traverse the world above the water.

Disney’s original working of The Little Mermaid (1989) was never a firm favourite of mine and, ultimately, proved to be one of those Disney movies I admire more than I enjoy. I appreciate it for effectively saving the company and lifting them out of the slump that has retroactively been labelled the ‘Dark Age’ of the studio, and were it not for the critical and commercial success of Mermaid, the likelihood is that undisputable gems like Beauty and the Beast (1991) would not have come to fruition. As far as this new iteration of Little Mermaid is concerned, I make no secret of my disdain for this business practise of slavishly retooling and repainting the old to better fit the new all for the sake of a few bucks; but whilst this new incarnation of Mermaid is indeed a watered-down version of the original (pun absolutely intended), this is, when compared to its less than shining brethren like Dumbo (2019), Mulan (2020) or Pinocchio (2022), a more likeable and entertaining offering.

Visually, The Little Mermaid is a real blast, which is saying something considering all the tremendous aqua-based set-pieces that have wowed us recently in the likes of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and Avatar: The Way of Water (both 2022). The underwater sequences are quite the mesmerising feast; the sight of Ariel’s hair swirling as she gracefully glides through the ocean while the coral beneath her shimmers with phosphorescence, it all comes together to take one’s breath away at times. As to the movie’s helmsman, Rob Marshall, whom we last encountered when he resurrected P.L. Travers’ magical nanny back to the screen in Mary Poppins Returns (2018), his credentials as a director of big screen musicals enjoyed by people who don’t really care fore musicals – namely his Best Picture winning Chicago (2002) – ensure that he’s a safe pair of hands for a project like this. Unfortunately, it also means the film’s very safe and such a workmanlike, hat-in-hand approach on the part of Marshall and company stifles anything that could have or should have been creatively stirring. For all the eye-filling exuberance in the effects and the earworming tunes the obvious problems from the past still linger, namely the fact that this movie exists in the first place. While not as miserable as some of these other live-action/CGI hybrids in the past few years, The Little Mermaid is still guilty of succumbing to the same spiritless and soulless trappings of its predecessors; for all the razzmatazz, there is little beneath worth salvaging. Even with all the tech and money at its disposal, this film, while harmless and serviceable, fundamentally lacks the endearing dynamism and eye-popping liveliness of the 1989 animated feature.

Watching The Little Mermaid is deja vu all over again, and it’s likely that whatever you thought of the previous productions – whether they be positive or negative – you’ll likely think the same of this one. This film is overlong and serves little else beyond its status as a curio, a novelty but, for whatever it may be worth, I do stress again that one did enjoy The Little Mermaid significantly more than I expected and found it to be the most tolerable since Favreau’s The Jungle Book (2016), but such praise from me is hardly worth much. These films are cash grabs – but they don’t have to be and that, when it comes down to brass tax, is the problem.

BEAU IS AFRAID (2023)

Though somewhat overpraised, one does hold Ari Aster’s debut feature Hereditary (2018) with a certain degree of warmth thanks to it being the first film I ever reviewed on this platform over five years ago (where’s the time gone, eh?). Now, his third movie is playing in cinemas: Beau is Afraid, formerly titled Disappointment Blvd., in which a timid, inwardly troubled middle-aged man embarks on a queer, Oedipal odyssey to see his mother, but his journey takes more than a few grimly surrealistic turns.

Beau is Afraid is a Voltaire-like, sprawling, ill-disciplined film that – for better or ill – is bursting with ideas, some of which work beautifully whilst others fall flat. The result is a film that lacks the ice-cold focus of his prior productions and is (thus) his weakest effort to date. Still, it would be folly to deny the man’s ambitions. But while Aster’s movie is overstuffed and overcooked, the frazzled performance by the ever-intriguing and committed Joaquin Phoenix is consistently arresting. Plus, in a technical sense, this nightmarish, Kafkaesque adventure is Aster at his most stylish and unhinged.

In many ways, judging a film such as this is a near impossible task. This is not a great or indeed a good piece of work, but it is at the very least peculiarly interesting, surprisingly funny in places (at least for me) and – if nothing else – cements Aster as one of contemporary cinema’s most eccentric figures. Those with an interest for highfalutin, arch tosh made by the likes of Aronofsky, Von Trier and Kaufman will revel in viewing this. The closest comparison that springs to mind whilst watching Beau is Afraid was Eraserhead (1977) and Pink Floyd – The Wall (1982). That being said, for all its merits, when it comes down to brass tax this is very much an indulgent, unruly and will leave many a spectator with a bitter, insufferable and migraine-inducing feeling that your money – and, more importantly, that your time – has been wasted. Those who do connect with it, however, will likely connect with it in a way that they do with very few other films.