Something Wicked This Way Comes
There’s a fine film hiding inside Something Wicked This Way Comes — you just have to peer through the smoke and carnival lights to find it. Ray Bradbury’s small-town nightmare of temptation and lost innocence should be a perfect fit for Disney’s early-1980s flirtation with darker material, but the tone wobbles between spooky fairytale and Sunday-school sermon. Disney’s nervous re-editing makes it uneven, but the atmosphere still casts a spell.
Still, the mood is rich. Jonathan Pryce makes a marvellously sinister Mr Dark, all snake-oil charm and velvet menace, and the autumnal setting drips with nostalgia and dread in equal measure. When they work, the carousel sequences feel like childhood dreams curdling into nightmares.
It doesn’t quite earn its goosebumps, but there’s a strange warmth to the chill. Imperfect though it is, it still captures something rare: that moment when growing up starts to feel like a kind of loss.
Still, the mood is rich. Jonathan Pryce makes a marvellously sinister Mr Dark, all snake-oil charm and velvet menace, and the autumnal setting drips with nostalgia and dread in equal measure. When they work, the carousel sequences feel like childhood dreams curdling into nightmares.
It doesn’t quite earn its goosebumps, but there’s a strange warmth to the chill. Imperfect though it is, it still captures something rare: that moment when growing up starts to feel like a kind of loss.
Mini Review: There’s a fine film hiding inside Something Wicked This Way Comes — you just have to peer through the smoke and carnival lights to find it. Ray Bradbury’s small-town nightmare wobbles between spooky fairytale and sermon, but the atmosphere still casts a spell. Jonathan Pryce oozes velvet menace, and amid the autumn dread, it finds a strange warmth in the fear of growing up.