Red Riding Hood Review - Guest Review by Cheryl Billman

A Review of Catherine Hardwicke’s Red Riding Hood
or, ‘Why I Hate Today’s Cinema’


There are probably those that would argue that Red Riding Hood is kind of like Twilight-meets-The Village-meets-Jack the Ripper-meets-The Crucible. Don’t listen to these people, they’re fucking idiots, and they’re making this film sound much better than it actually is.

LET’S GET SOMETHING STR8~
Red Riding Hood aka “The Worst Movie I Have Ever Forced Myself to Endure in Its Entirety” borrows aspects, plot twists, and (in some cases) actual dialogue from each of the aforementioned films, intertwines them and then loosely assembles them into a tour de force of poor taste via a weak and fundamentally flawed plot constituting 60% “mystery”, 30% "romance", and 10% "supernatural themes".

A part of me wants to say that Catherine Hardwicke, director of this “cinematic” shit-storm, intended to pay homage to all of the films mentioned in the introduction. The other, more intelligent half of my brain realizes that anyone who would dedicate time and money to this film without a shred of inhibition isn’t actually smart enough to pay homage to anything other than Taylor Lautner’s abs.

I can’t go much further without a disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER:
The 830pm viewing of Red Riding Hood that I attended was practically deserted save for four young couples somewhere in their mid-20’s and five quite clucky middle-aged women who – and I can tell you this with confidence, because I was eavesdropping on the loud, indiscreet conversation they were having over the previews [as a side note: FUCK I HATE IT WHEN I DO THIS, AM I THE ONLY PERSON WHO APPRECIATES THE SANCTITY OF MOVIE PREVIEWS] – had just moved to Brisbane from a small rural town. All were dedicated Twilight fans, and all but one suffered from perennial single-dom, but none among their number was astute enough to realize that both misfortunes were, in all likelihood, directly correlated to each other.

I mention the people who inhabited the cinema with me because I spent more time watching them than I did the actual screen. The couples were the most interesting to watch, because this “film” is built on the same foundation as every other "film" released in the past three years: a love triangle between three really ridiculously good-looking people who lack personality and are essentially undeserving of the love of another human being.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about all the films that have approached this angle in a self-aware manner and parlayed it into a film that is gritty and real. You're thinking that some films execute this theme in a refined, interesting manner. This film is not among that distinguished few. Hence, my prolonged people-watching session.

When the majesty of the cinematic experience proved elusive, I found solace watching young girls caught in the enthrall of a twisted romance, clutching at their boyfriend’s hand, while he stonily contemplated suicide and/or tried to focus as much of his energy and attention as possible on the popcorn sitting between them.

The German’s have a word for the delight I found in this simple act: Schadenfraude.

The movie itself is barely worth discussing. This is the tale of the fictional village of Daggerhorn which is plagued by a furry menace. For those who haven’t guessed, or who have just emerged from the blissful sanctuary of some isolated cave, away from the horrors of the 21st Century (see: ‘Whip My Hair’, ‘Hannah Montana: the Movie’ and ‘90210’ – the remake) and therefore don’t actually know how the fairytale goes: it's a wolf.

Or, in this case (and in keeping with the latest Hollywood trend): IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING WEREWOLF. A big, cuddly werewolf which looks like it was animated by a twelve year old with rudimentary knowledge of graphics generation for a school I.T. project.

In the first ten minutes, the viewer is thrown into the tepid romance that exists between village girl Valarie (Amanda Seyfried), the Little Red Riding Hood of this interpretation, who shall heretofore be known as “Photogenic Lead Female” and woodcutter Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), or “Brooding Lead Male”. The dynamic of this relationship is thrown somewhat off kilter by the fact that little chemistry exists between Seyfried and Fernandez, and watching their romantic scenes is sort of akin to watching two elderly drunks get into a slurred verbal sparring match. The sizzle between the two pretty leads is sorely missed and casts a shadow over the romantic development between their characters respectively, who have apparently known each other since childhood.

Side note: in her opening monologue, Valarie laments the fact that Peter can bring out the worst in her. One of the middle-aged Twilight fans all but swooned in her seat. I choked on my frozen Coke. Suffragettes rolled over in their graves.

Hardwicke is also quick to establish that a love triangle – DID YOU HEAR THAT? A love triangle; the most underutilized of all plot elements! – exists between Valarie, Peter, and another character named Henry (Michael Shanks), who I came to know as “Boring Nice Guy”. Henry is more conventionally attractive than Peter; he is also smarter, funnier, wealthier, and infinitely more respectful of Valarie than Peter is, and he has loved Valarie from afar for an indeterminate amount of time and for indeterminate reasons. Naturally, Valarie thinks he’s a douche and wants nothing to do with him – this film does come from the school of Twilight, after all.

The village goes stir-crazy following an unprovoked death and calls in a werewolf-hunting priest who makes the Spanish Inquisitors look like friendly Latter Day Saints popping ‘round for a chat on a Sunday afternoon. This bat-shit crazy son of a bitch, played by Gary Oldman, has a personal vendetta against anything and everything that goes bump in the night. I’m not going to recount the entire plot, because there isn’t a plot worth recounting - sitting through this sloppily-assembled estrogen-fest once was enough – other than to say that the rest of the movie details the mad scramble to identify who among the cast is actually the werewolf.

Credit where credit is due, Hardwicke did her best to manufacture something sort of like suspense throughout the course of the movie – she was even successful at one point, but I won’t ruin one of the movie’s few redeeming features for you by giving it away. The rest of her attempts, however, have the same sort of effect as a reality T.V. show elimination special: you can easily guess whose headed home based on whose furrowed brow or teary-eyed expression doesn’t get airtime right before the vote is announced.

For those of you who are being reluctantly dragged kicking and screaming into seeing of this film by a friend or romantic partner, I have little words of condolence. You may cling blindly to the hope that it will be visually stunning, or that the acting will be good or that it will have a dynamic and unique soundtrack, but I wouldn’t advise it. You’d just be setting yourself up for disappointment. Having suffered through Twilight and having quite enjoyed Lords of Dogtown, I had at least hoped for stunning landscape shots from Hardwicke, director of both projects. She let me down. I was left with the impression that this was a film shot on a historically inaccurate, shoddily-dressed set built with poor quality materials.

This was probably the worst film I’ve seen this year. That’s a tall claim for me to make, seeing as I habitually browse video stores looking for the worst conceivable titles and the most laughable plot synopsis’. The only way I can adequately describe how utterly terrible this film was is to say that, if I were a male who had been dragged out of my house to endure this heinous piece of cinematic fodder, I would expect reimbursement of the most serious kind. Before you let your girlfriend or friend subject you to this test of loyalty and dedication, make sure to arrange a prize for yourself if you manage to make it out alive. Gentlemen, if it’s too late for you, suggest a trade-off: reserve the right to blow your girlfriend off for video games at a time of your choosing, without complaint from her, because it's THAT bad.

If you let your friend drag you out to this film already, and you managed to make it through without slipping into a shallow coma, I really have no suggestion for you other than to recommend you bathe in the warm glow of the knowledge that you are a good friend and a person of strong will.

4/10. And that’s being generous.     

Verbal Diarhoea - Coming Soon

Just a quick update on what's been happening behind the scenes here. I'm working on a video series appropriately titled "Verbal Diarhoea", an animated rant/review show. The first episode is nearing completion. The vocals are recorded and mixed and the animation is being storyboarded by my sister, who's kindly lended her awesome art skills to the process. Expect an episode on youtube within two to three weeks. Also, a whole slew of reviews coming soon, I've been busy. Until then, TTFN.