"Winter's Tale" Tired and Unbalanced

The stars in the night sky are the only witnesses as Pearly Soames (Russell Crowe) enters a dark room. He has an important task ahead: his cat-and-mouse game with Peter Lake (Colin Farrell) has reached a road bump. As a demon, he needs permission to enter restricted territory to capture the man. Pearly is a dangerous killer, and as he addresses his leader, the tension is palpable. Enter Will Smith as Lucifer donning a blazer and t-shirt—a fine outfit on him but out of place against an early 20th-century backdrop. The moment is laughable, a blip in casting choices. But Will Smith’s appearance represents the exact problem with “Winter’s Tale”: potential ruined.

The film has the essential ingredients to be excellent. Its source is Mark Helprin’s novel of the same name, a novel so powerful it made one New York Times reviewer nervous about inadequately representing its beauty. The adaptation boasts a screenplay written by Akiva Goldsman, who won an Academy Award for his script for “A Beautiful Mind”, and sports a critically acclaimed cast. The film’s recipe almost guarantees two hours of emotion and action, yet the product is less than appetizing.

Within the first minute, shimmering stars greet the audience, hinting at two hours of beautiful imagery. This is one aspect of the film that does not fail. The cinematography is consistent, bringing the setting and characters to life with wintry colors and startling backdrops. As the film progresses, the snow glistens in the countryside. A shining light, resembling diamonds, reappears frequently: as a passerby flips a coin on the street, as a character is introduced, as a thoughtful connection between scenes.

As the plot progresses, however, expectations are quickly dashed. The story focuses on Peter Lake, an orphan, thief, and mechanic on the run from gang leader Pearly. While robbing a house, Peter meets and falls in love with heiress Beverly Penn (Jessica Brown Findlay). The romance is ill-fated, however, as gangs, sickness, and destiny work to thwart their love. Missing memories, time leaps, reincarnation, and mystical beings take over as the film rushes forward towards a story that’s more than fantasy, more than romance, more than historical drama—a theoretical epic that only elicits disappointment.

The issue lies partly in execution. The actors do display talent—Farrell’s eyes mist and tear up when he sees a picture of Beverly, a change that is both subtle and potent. However, the cast fails when it’s together. The leading lovers lack chemistry, and their romance feels colder than the season of interest. When Beverly and Peter first meet, they have an awkward conversation that is meant to be charming, even though Farrell and Findley make it forced. Without passion, their love story becomes disengaging. Other characters are just as disappointing. Initially, Pearly bears resemblance to Crowe’s role as Inspector Javert in “Les Misérables.” The major difference is that while Javert is more than an antagonist, the film characterizes Pearly as just the “bad guy.” One scene suggests more layers behind his character—when Lucifer alludes to Pearly’s complicated feelings for Peter—but this plot element is discarded, resulting in a one-dimensional, forgettable character that squanders Crowe’s talents.

The film’s major problem, however, is that it lacks direction and balance. Despite advertising a plot that spans two time periods, the film focuses too long on the past and Peter’s romance with Beverly. Though this story is integral to the second half, it leaves the modern tale rushed. As the characters march towards the climax and resolution, epiphanies are realized in a matter of seconds, and fights are resolved too quickly to be intense. This abruptness inhibits character development and renders them static and uninteresting. The film tries to be too much and ends up becoming too little.

As Goldsman’s directorial debut, “Winter’s Tale” disappoints. From the moment the narrator asks, “What if once upon a time there were no stars in the sky?” the film sets itself up as revolutionary and meaningful. Motifs are abundant from the opening scene. The “City of Justice” sign, the stars, the shimmering light—all take on a symbolic role. The issue isn’t the excessiveness, however, but how the ideas become reduced in power by a gradually simplifying plot. By the end, what is left is a cliché story—a tired tale concerning the war between good and evil, a tale concerning a love that defies time, a tale concerning a man and his destiny.

“Magic is everywhere around us,” the narrator says in the first scene. For “Winter’s Tale,” that statement carries truth, but like everything else in the film, the magic is merely a plot device, and a poorly employed one that fails to capture the true enchantment of the source material.