What if fairy tale princesses were strong women who sent powerful messages of self-respect to young girls? What if Prince Charming was a jerk, and an impoverished gambling addict had to save the day? Why aren't there more good roles for little people? All of these questions are posed by the charming new fairy tale "Penelope."
Christina Ricci plays the title character, a blue-blooded girl suffering from the worst of imaginable curses: a minor physical imperfection. Locked away by her mother, played by Catherine O'Hara, to protect her pig-snouted face from the world, Penelope must find a wealthy husband who can bear the sight of her to break the curse. It should, however, be noted that Ricci with a pig snout is 10 to 15 times more attractive than most normal-nosed women could ever hope to be.
Relentless in his pursuit of a photograph of the elusive pig girl is tabloid reporter Lemon, played by Peter Dinklage. He hires a gambling addict, Max, played by James McAvoy, to pretend to be a suitor to get close enough for a picture. Penelope, predictably, falls for Max, and when he runs out on her after seeing her face, Penelope flees her house into the outside world.
Once free, Penelope seeks the most important experiences in the world, which appear to revolve very heavily around getting drunk and buying things. Over beers (a lot of beers), she makes her first friend, Annie, played by Reese Witherspoon.
The rest of the movie follows a predictable fairy tale/romantic comedy formula, rife with lessons learned and wrongs righted. The film presents a clear message about self-esteem and inner beauty but fails to deliver any real depth, relying instead on predictable twists of fate and an uninspired ending. The routine romance and overly sentimental interactions avoid being truly cloying, but are never believable.
However, "Penelope" remains tongue-in-cheek about its clichéd nature and, despite lapses into triviality, delivers enough originality to remain entertaining. This is due largely to the film's surprisingly self-deprecating wit, saving it from a fate as melodramatic trash and perhaps cementing it as a date-movie favorite for years to come. The frequent moments of humor not only entertain, they turn the characters from formulaic stereotypes to lovable characters with enough depth to arouse empathy: Audience members literally gasped at predictable twists of fate and cheered out loud at the protagonists' inevitable day-saving kiss.
"Penelope" features a few notable performances. Producer Witherspoon plays, if somewhat shallowly, a laid-back streetwise departure from her usual blonde stereotype. Dinklage's short stature and subdued charm bring some much-needed depth and style to the film. And reliably brilliant is the criminally underused O'Hara. Sadly, Ricci chooses to muffle the unique quirkiness that made such films as "Buffalo 66" and "Pecker" enjoyable, instead opting for a shallowness that is a further extension of the greatest problem with this film.
One truly remarkable aspect of this movie is the cinematography. At times, the movie is so visually breathtaking it gives the impression it was illustrated, not filmed. The painstakingly designed sets appear to be ripped from the pages of a beautiful children's fairy tale, and if the film is at times shallow, all must be forgiven for the calculated beauty of every single shot. So, if this chick flick fails to impress those in search of something new and original, fans of set design will surely appreciate its beauty.
