Cinema 2011 #46: Water for Elephants

Roll up, roll up, girls and boys and feast your eyes on the glitzy razzmatazz of forbidden romance and pesky pachyderms in a Depression era travelling circus. Beneath this rambling Big Top you’ll gasp and marvel at the bearded ladies and somersaulting trapeze artists, be enthralled by the acrobatic equestrianism and chucklesome clowns. Just don’t peak behind the curtain, because underneath the slickly designed surface is a movie just a few coconuts shy of what it should be, and for director Francis Lawrence, there’s just no riggin’ the game.

Based on Sara Gruen’s bestselling novel, Water for Elephants is touted as grand old-fashioned filmmaking, a stylised melodrama with a big name cast, and a romantic plot to make your heart gush. It opens with an elderly Jacob Jankowski (Hal Holbrook) telling the tale of his unexpected graduation from Ivy League veterinary student to railroad carny animal doc, swigging moonshine and stealing glances from the ringmaster’s missus (an underused Reese Witherspoon), all in the lead-up to one of the worst circus disaster in American history. The young Jacob takes the form of screen idol du jour Robert Pattinson, trying to ditch the histrionics of his glaring-big-haired-vampire day job, but who doesn’t really find anything to wrap his fangs around as this glaring-short-haired-Doolittle.

Faring equally poorly are the Oscar-winners, Christoph Waltz and Reese Witherspoon. He’s August, the menacing leader of this travelling troupe, who’s prone to tossing deadweight bums from the train and walking wife Witherspoon’s face into doors. Waltz bagged an Oscar for his wickedly malignant role in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds, but has since dwindled in typecast parts requiring him to play the baddy with his patented manic energy (see The Green Hornet), but lacking the juicy choice dialogue to balance things out. His August should be charming and grandiose, and terrifyingly brutal and heartless, but instead Waltz is boring, a grinning goon who’s outshone by an elephant named Rosie. In her role as horse-riding Magdalena, Witherspoon is occasionally magnetic as the grande dame of the ring, with sequins and satin leotards thrown in for good measure. But outside of the tent, she’s sidelined as a simpering doll, taking a beating and void of spirit.

It is with the elephant and circus tricks, however, that the picture finally comes to life, putting some swagger and show into the business. Rosie, the 53-year old Polish elephant, makes for a loveable comedic foil, a whiskey swiggin’ showgirl who’ll bring our lovebirds together. Jack Fisk’s production design is detailed and sumptuous, capturing the poverty of 1930s small town America as easily as the mysterious glamour of the circus. The film looks beautiful, and recalls the certain polish of the classic Women’s Pictures of yesteryear, where loose ends were tied up in fancy ribbons and swoon-worthy kisses, but without any dramatic integrity. 

 

And so it is here, all smoke and mirrors, with something seriously lacking in Water for Elephants. Leaden dialogue and stilted performances do little to raise the stakes. Sadly, you won’t be packing your bags to run off and join this circus.

2 ½ Likes.