The Smurfs
The cinemas look more and more room for children. There are “Transformers”, “Captain America”, “Winnie the Pooh” and now “The Smurfs”. This is not a reason to store comic books as those of Peyo are much more interesting than the appalling transposition which has been drawn.
The famous rivalry between Gargamel (Hank Azaria) and the Smurfs takes place this time in New York. The sorcerer with a long nose and his cat Azrael are impossible to get hold of blue beings who can count on the help of Patrick Winslow (Neil Patrick Harris) and his family.
“Noooooooooooooon!!!!!” it is the first thought of the child yesterday who grew up in the company of Papa Smurf, Brainy Smurf, and of their many friends. How was it possible to disguise this a symbol of quality to sanitize completely, leaving ultimately a soulless production designed to sell a ton of fluff blue? Yes, it is the era of nostalgia, the recovery endless, but at this point?
This movie has everything that one should not do, what the recent “Winnie the Pooh” was nevertheless managed to avoid brilliantly. There is first a sophisticated animation that is not always pretty to watch, three-dimensional effects completely useless, indigestible songs and a host of life lessons. The moral of the difference, the need to believe in you and the virtues of family and fatherhood are so ubiquitous that it is supported and to wonder whether the very long film (nearly two hours) is taken seriously.
By omitting a few moments funny and gentle irony, is usually the case. The scenario of a staggering lean much recalled the second “Home Alone”. The staging by director Raja Gosnell (“Beverly Hills Chihuhua”) is not developed, limited to showing fish (or Smurf) out of the water, this time swimming in the Big Apple. The potential remains on the comic side of the road because it is the eternal cliches that have been preserved.
The characters more or less charismatic are not there to help. Most of the Smurfs are annoying, like their human equivalent. Neil Patrick Harris seems to find the time long, Hank Azaria is scream of fear the young toddlers in three years (who are the target audience) and the only way to play the slightest is to identify with animals: this too cute dog which is there to appeal to the heart of mother and that repetitive Azrael, the King of the slapstick also irresistible. It is also possible to question the legitimacy of producers to choose a tattooed singer to the voice of Smurfette (Katy Perry in the original, Marie-May in Quebec and Coeur de pirate in France) as this aspect is hardly ever explored.
Initiation lazy and ridiculous to a magical world that continues to attract young and old, “The Smurfs” is classified in the same category as the recent “Garfield”, “Scooby-Doo”, “Yogi Bear” and “Chipmunks”.
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