Posted July 28, 2011 by David Watson in Films
 
 

Horrid Henry 3D


When Wes Craven’s gruesome grindhouse classic The Last House On The Left was released back in 1971, its hugely successful advertising campaign included the now infamous tagline: “To avoid fainting, keep repeating – it’s only a movie…it’s only a movie…” It’s advice you should take if, at any point this Summer, you should find yourself in a cinema watching Horrid Henry 3D.

When Wes Craven’s gruesome grindhouse classic The
Last House On The Left was released back in 1971, its hugely
successful advertising campaign included the now infamous tagline: “To avoid
fainting, keep repeating – it’s only a movie…it’s only a movie…” It’s advice
you should take if, at any point this Summer, you should find yourself in a
cinema watching
Horrid Henry 3D.

When our titular hero, rambunctious scamp Horrid Henry
(Theo Stevenson) fails, yet again, to do his homework, he sets in motion a
chain of events that sees his teacher, the strict Miss Battle-Axe (Anjelica
Huston. Yup, you read that right!), fired and his school, Ashton Primary, closed down by corrupt school
inspectors in the pay of the evil Vic Van Wrinkle (Richard E. Grant.
Boo! Hiss!), Headmaster of posh private school Brick House. Faced
with the horror of being sent to Our Lady Giddiantus School for Girls (don’t
ask, it’s a running joke that’s not funny), Henry is forced into an uneasy
alliance with his nemesis, Moody Margaret (Scarlett Stitt), and his little
brother, Perfect Peter (Ross Marron), as he tries to win TV talent show Too
Cool For School
and save the school he’s always hated.

There’s always difficulties when trying to translate a
much-loved children’s book to the screen. Too reverent and you end up
with the tedium of the first few Harry Potter movies or the soporific Narnia
movies. Try to cram too much in
and you get a misfire like The Golden Compass. Stray too far from the original story
and you get a joyless 90 minutes of daddy issues and shoe-gazing like Where
The Wild Things Are
.
Every so often however filmmakers get it right, with movies like Elf and Matilda. Films that don’t treat children like
pint-sized half-wits with the attention span and manners of a bonobo. Films that treat children with respect
and credit them with a modicum of intelligence and wit (yes, even the simplest
fart joke can be witty if done well).
Horrid Henry 3D would dearly love to be one of those
films. Unfortunately, it is not.

Lacking the wit and innate intelligence Mother Nature
gave the Lassa virus, Horrid Henry 3D, based on a
series of award-winning children’s books by Francesca Simon, is precisely the
sort of twitching cinematic abortion only the British film industry can deliver
when desperately chasing American audiences. Bold and bright, with a palette of primary colours that make
the film look like Willy Wonka threw up on a waltzer, Horrid Henry for
at least two-thirds of its running time is a breathless rush from one largely
pointless scene to the next as the ‘mischievious’ Henry sings, dances, raps,
farts and soliloquises his way through this tension and incident-free,
live-action cartoon. The script is
awful; don’t worry about the story, don’t even think about the story…the
filmmakers clearly haven’t, so why should you?

Packed full of the cream of British acting and comedy
talent, all desperately mugging in panto-fashion, the film is about as amusing
as a truckload of razor-wielding, self-harming, AIDS-monkeys crashing into a
paediatric ward full of pre-pubescent haemophiliacs. Noel Fielding turns up for a bit doing his customary stoned,
glam-rock, child-catcher schtick, Jo Brand is a veggie stew dispensing dinner
lady, Mathew Horne makes that face he usually makes when his fat mate’s being a twat and Richard E. Grant provides yet more proof that no decent actor has ever
come from Swaziland.

The kids are horrible. As Henry, Theo Stevenson turns in a performance so bad, so
obnoxious, you‘ll want to shoot him in the face. Something Colin Farrell did to the little moppet in his
first film In Bruges.
Unfortunately, no-one thought to cast Colin in Horrid Henry 3D so
much as you may hope, much as you may pray, that little Theo takes a double-tap
to the head, it never comes. The
rest of the kids are stage school spawn, a many-headed Hydra of precocious
youth that’ll make you weep for the future. Singling one out for criticism is a little like singling out
your least favorite National Socialist.
You wouldn’t want to have any of them over for lunch. Besides…sever one head, two more are
sure to sprout. And then there’s
Anjelica Huston. Oh Anjelica,
why? She delivers a performance
that’s pitched somewhere between Star Trek’s Scottie and The
Simpsons
’s Groundskeeper Willie. But not in any kind of funny way.

Horrid Henry 3D fails in
almost every way possible. It’s
not funny, the performances are terrible, the script patronises its young
audience and insults its adult one. Perhaps it’s greatest crime however is Henry’s just not
horrid; he’s boring. Gone is the
swaggering borderline sociopath of the books; in his place a well-meaning, if
misguided, cookie-cutter rebellious kid with a heart of gold. Disturbingly, Horrid Henry 3D‘s
one redeeming feature is TV dickheads Dick & Dom (Richard McCourt & Dominic
Wood), essentially playing arch, panto versions of themselves in the film’s,
frankly terrifying, German Expressionist/Shockheaded Peter-inspired kids TV
talent show Too Cool For School.
After an hour of day-glo, hyper-reality their
appearance drags the film into darker, more dangerous territory, allowing a
brief glimpse of what this film could have been. But it’s only a glimpse; too little, too late.

Remember: “It’s only a movie…it’s only a movie…”


David Watson

 
David Watson is a screenwriter, journalist and 'manny' who, depending on time of day and alcohol intake could be described as a likeable misanthrope or a carnaptious bampot. He loves about 96% of you but there's at least 4% he'd definitely eat in the event of a plane crash. Email: david.watson@filmjuice.com