Let’s not mince words: Hansel and Gretel is
not a good movie. But with its shoddiness so clearly telegraphed – from
its premise (fit for a gag or two but already overstretched before the
end of the opening credits) to the pushed back release date (ostensibly
an attempt to capitalise on Jeremy Renner’s rising status, but
nevertheless rarely a sign of studio confidence) – anyone leaving the
cinema disappointed by the ludicrous and unwieldy results really only
has themselves to blame.
As the sorceress-slaying siblings, Renner and Gemma Arterton struggle
valiantly with a script that mostly involves cracking hag-heads while
cracking wise. With so little to work with their talents are largely wasted, but at least they seem to be having fun, and this self-awareness
(rubbish, but proudly rubbish) proves the film’s saving grace. Hints of
a sequel are, however, a step too far: to borrow a (tiresome) quote
from the film itself: “you gotta be fucking kidding me.”
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