****
Snatched from her bed in the dead of night by a giant blowing dreams through bedroom windows, Sophie finds herself transported to the magical world of Giant Country where she becomes acquainted with her kidnapper, the BFG.
I was perhaps predisposed to enjoy the latest adaption of The BFG having been raised reading Roald Dahl's books and listening to the cassette tapes on long car journeys. I keenly remember the descriptions of the BFG's jars full of dreams and, of course, the disgusting snozzcumbers. In Steven Spielberg's latest big-screen release, this vibrant world is beautifully bought to life with loving care and attention to detail that is sure to make this film a classic for children and adults alike in the future.
Upon hearing that Mark Rylance had been chosen to pay the eponymous character, I was initially sceptical: I needn't have been. From the very first time you hear Rylance utter the BFG's characteristically confused language, you know you're in for a real treat. His soft voice is perfect for the lonely and bullied giant who feels guilty at stealing Sophie, and yet is also unwilling to renounce her, whilst his kind eyes and heart-melting smile (seen occasionally in Wolf Hall) makes him into a truly sympathetic and loveable character. Using CGI wizardry, Rylance's face is morphed into a cartoon-esque version of itself (complete with large, moving ears) and placed upon the gangly body of the BFG - whilst it is still recognisably Rylance, it doesn't look uncannily real. The interaction between the CGI elements and Sophie (an outstanding Ruby Barnhill) are performed masterfully, and you really get a sense of the blooming relationship between both characters, which is a real treat.
The world of the film is beautifully realised too, whether it be from the romanticised cobbled streets of London, to the BFG's dream cave, to the captivating rendition of Dream Country. This particular sequence is one of the highlights of the film, with magic darting across the screen from every corner. The attention to detail reminded me of the finesse in which Aardman finish their films, making it a true feast for the eyes. John Williams' score is perfectly suited to what's happening on screen, playing to your feelings at the right time, and packing a typically Spielbergian emotional punch. There are moments of genuine laugh-out-loud humour, most of it coming from the gang of larger giants, who are depicted as today's typical 'lads', as well as from the trio of naughty corgies at Buckingham Palace. I was aware that there weren't many children laughing until this final part of the film, however, which may indicate that the film is pitched for the bigger kids in the audience as opposed to their offspring.
I will admit, however, that the film isn't perfect - in places it feels somewhat plodding, and the script is not nearly as dark or as haunting as the source material, but the piece still stands up as an excellent piece of work nonetheless. Tinged with inevitable nostalgia, it's a largely faithful adaption with a heart of gold.
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