Review: 'Fairy Tale' magical
November 5, 1997
Web posted at: 4:40 p.m. EST (2140 GMT)
From Reviewer Paul Tatara
(CNN) -- I wasn't asked by CNN to review "Fairy Tale: A True
Story" upon its debut, the logic being, I assume, that I
would just end up making fun of small children. Anyway, one
night, with nothing better to do except get rained on, I
popped into a theater where "Fairy Tale" was playing. And
something magical happened.
OK, maybe not magical, but wholly unexpected. I actually
started to enjoy a movie about two little girls who
claim to have taken photographs of a couple of dancing
woodland sprites. After a while, I was shocked to find that
I was still enjoying it, so I broke out my trusty legal pad
and started jotting down notes. Look out, America, here
comes a positive review of "Fairy Tale: A True Story,"
courtesy of Mr. Cynical.
The story is not exactly true, by the way. Or if it is, then
it's true in the same way as one of Oliver Stone's "let's
just make up this part" historical epics. It's based on the
adventures of a couple of British schoolgirls (played with
charming authority by Florence Hoath and Elizabeth Earl) who,
in 1917, took a camera out in the woods and photographed each
other posing with some little cardboard fairies that they had
drawn the day before.
Amazingly, after these photographs were published in a
magazine, a lot people believed what they were seeing was
real. Photography was a relatively new art form, so playing
tricks with a camera was something that most people couldn't
begin to grasp. And they sure couldn't believe little girls
were capable of it. (The actual photos, by the way, are
patently phony looking, but you have to get a kick out of
such innocent gullibility.)
Just as amazingly, the main proponent of this naiveté was
that scion of logic himself, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the
creator of Sherlock Holmes. Peter O'Toole wisely plays Conan
Doyle as a weary, desperate believer. He's haunted by the
death of his son, and finding a concrete connection to
other-worldly beings is good for his soul. For the most
part, the movie is about wanting to believe, as much
as it's about actually believing. Think of that girl you
know who's convinced her cat "says things" to her. Now
remove the cat and add a belief in fairies. There. That's
what the movie's like.
In a strange bit of casting that actually works, legendary
magician Harry Houdini, the voice of reason, is played by
Harvey Keitel. That's what I said. Now, I don't know about
you, but when I see Keitel breathing funny and sticking a gun
in some drug dealer's mouth during one of his movies, I don't
usually think, "This guy's missed his calling. He should be
doing kids' films." But here he is, trying to convince his
friend Sir Arthur that somebody is playing a trick, either
the girls or their grown-up keepers.
The cool thing about the movie is that director Charles
Sturridge manages to have it both ways. We never really find
out if the girls are perpetrating a massive hoax; we just
know that lots of people who should know better are primed to
believe them. Even during actual fairy sightings (there's a
phrase that you don't see often), we're never sure if the
girls are really being visited by the little critters or if
they're just hoping that's what's happening. Either way, the
fairies are sweet-looking things that thankfully don't smell
of digital-era mega-effects. They look more like little
ballerina bugs, which is another phrase that doesn't get
bandied about the way it should.
The cinematography is gorgeous, with the British countryside
glowing in sunlight. It has none of the tacky cartoonishness
that mars so many children's films. I couldn't start to tell
you what a modern 7-year-old will think of this, since most
of them are sitting in front of the TV right now playing a
video game in which they try to kick people into a coma, but
you should drag one along anyway. That way no one will look
askew while you enjoy it.
"Fairy Tale: A True Story" contains several horrifying
impalings, and one fairy's head gets crushed in a car door.
Not really. It's all perfectly harmless, and looks nice to
boot. Keep your eyes peeled for Mel Gibson, and this time
I'm not kidding. Rated PG. 97 minutes.