A Wrinkle in Time, the
seminal 1962 science fiction novel by Madeline L’Engle, was considered for the
longest time to be one of those “unfilmable” books. Not because it took place
in multiple fantastical worlds that were nearly impossible to bring to life convincingly
before CGI came along, but because it involves both a lot of quantum physics
and philosophical introspection with one being a metaphor for the other. It’s
something that Carl Sagan could’ve hammered out for an episode of Cosmos in his sleep but doesn’t lend
itself very well to a visual narrative. (Although Lord knows
they tried.) The angle that director Ava DuVernay (hot off the critical
success of Selma) chose to attack
this with is to swap out the Christian overtones of the book for more new age philosophy
about self-actualization, scale down the expansive world and flights of fancy
to a few key locations and moments, and make the emotional center hinge on the
internal conflict of the lead’s own self esteem.
Our story follows Megan (Storm Reid), a brilliant girl whose
scientist father (Chris Pine) mysteriously vanishes after discovering the
Tesseract, a new form of space travel using the power of the mind. In the four
years since his absence, she’s become more jaded, distrusting and skeptical of
the world around her, a stark contrast to her more optimistic little brother
Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe). One day, Megan is visited by Mrs. Which (Oprah
Winfrey), Mrs. Who (Mindy Kaling) and Mrs. Whatsit (Reese Witherspoon), three
ancient cosmic beings of light who tell her that her father is alive but
imprisoned in Camazotz, a planet on the far ends of the universe inhabited by
an evil, parasitic entity called “The It.” Using the Tesseract, the three
Misses take Megan, Charles Wallace and their friend Calvin (Levi Miller) on a
journey across the cosmos to rescue her father.
The most striking thing about this movie is how
unapologetically girly it is. As much as that may sound like a backhanded
compliment, it is something that works in its favor, both in its rainbow color
palate and Lisa Frank aesthetic and its central themes of empowerment through compassion and
self-acceptance. It’s like they showed the test footage to the most obnoxious
twelve-year-old boy on the planet, and every time he scoffed, rolled his eyes
or said “that’s so gay,” they made a note to put that in the movie. In an age
where 99.9% of all big budget blockbusters are marketed at that particular
demographic, you really do notice when they veer in the opposite direction. It
also updates things thematically to fit in more naturally with the current
sensibilities of girls. There’s a heavier focus on Megan’s own cynicism and
self-loathing, so the symbolism that had more Christian tinged moralizing in
the book reflects these new conflicts better.
One of Ava DuVernay’s greatest strengths as a director is
her ability to work with actors, and that is greatly reflected here. The Three
Misses don’t take up as much screen-time as you’d expect, but they make the
most of their time, even if the casting of Oprah as a larger than life goddess
and the embodiment of human kindness might be a bit on the nose. Same go for
Zach Galifianakis and Michael Pena, whose cameo appearances leave a significant
impact. Newcomer Storm Reid does wonders as Megan, balancing her external
skepticism with the internal turmoil that prevents her from realizing her
potential but also saves her in a few select moments. The greatest revelation,
however, is Deric McCabe as Charles Wallace, who flawlessly pulls off a heel
turn from preciously precocious to unsettlingly sinister in the third act. It’s
a transition that most adult actors would struggle with but he manages
impressively.
However, there were a few things that could’ve been better
planned out. There’s a noticeable lack of focus and cohesion between the
different set-pieces, most of the worlds they visit, while visually striking,
feel empty and uninhabited, the CG and greenscreen compositing is spotty at
best, and there is an uncomfortable amount of close-up shots. Take it from
someone who was saddled with a second-row seat: if you plan on seeing this in
theaters and don’t want to know what it’s like to stare up Oprah’s nostrils, do
yourself a favor and sit in the back-row.
There were also moments where even though they went out of
their way to update and modernize it, you can still tell this was a story
written in 1962. It’s also one of the progenitors of the current wave of YA
novels, so it suffers from the same problems as other late adaptations like The Giver and Ender’s Game, IE how do you stand out without looking like a pale
imitation of your own offspring? This is especially evident in certain plot
points carried over from the book that may be groan inducing by today’s
standards. (If you thought the ending of the book was cheesy, this doesn’t
exactly fix that.)
Bottom line, A Wrinkle
in Time isn’t the most ambitious movie out there, but what it lacks in
ambition it makes up for in sincerity. The writing is a bit clunky in places
but making a movie with both technical chops and human soul isn’t easy for even
the most seasoned director, even with Disney’s money at their disposal. There’s
a lot going for this movie, and I, like many, was rooting for it. I just wish
the final product was better.
6/10, Matinee
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