Anna Sewell’s timeless classic “Black Beauty,” now streaming on Disney+, is given an update in a gentle, family-friendly take on a girl and a horse who “share the same Mustang spirit.”
The titular character is a wild horse, born to roam free until she is rounded up, taken from her family and sent to Birtwick Stables where she is to be trained and sold off to the highest bidder. Meanwhile, Jo Green (Mackenzie Foy of “Twilight” and “The Conjuring”) has lost her immediate family and is sent to live with her horse trainer Uncle John (Iain Glen). Feeling lost, she’s unhappy and unfamiliar with life at the stables. Soon though, a bond forms between her and the Mustang named Black Beauty. Somehow, they see themselves reflected in one another. “You’ve gotten closer to that filly in days than I have in weeks,” says Uncle John. “They say a horse picks you.”
Later, when it’s time for Black Beauty to move along top a new owner, Jo protests. “If I fought for every horse I ever loved,” Uncle John says, “I’d have a hundred of them.”
“I don’t want a hundred horses,” Foy responds. “I just want one.”
And so it goes, the connection between a girl and her horse remains unbroken, despite the ups and downs in both their lives.
This version of “Black Beauty” features a first, two female leads, Foy and Kate Winslet. The Oscar winning Winslet supplies the voice of Black Beauty in narration, in calm, measured tones that suggest she’s reading the inside of a schmaltzy Hallmark greeting card. “A true mustang never gives up on hope and love,” she whinnies.
It has also dialed back much of the rough stuff—there’s no enforced labor pulling London cabs for instance—that younger viewers may have found distressing in the original story but there are still some emotional scenes that will pull at the heartstrings of young and old.
“Black Beauty” errs on the side of sentimentality, favoring uplift over real edge, but while the smoothed down version has changed some of the details of Sewell’s story but the underlying messages of loyalty and kindness to animals remain the same.
Based on E.T.A. Hoffmann’s “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” and Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker” ballet, Disney’s newest fantasy also adds in large, frothy dollops of “Alice in Wonderland, “ “Narnia” and even “Pan’s Labyrinth.”
The action in “The Nutcracker And The Four Realms” begins like so many other Disney films, with the death of a parent. It’s Christmas and Clara (Mackenzie Foy) is still hurting from the recent loss of her mother. Her present is a beautiful ornamental egg once owned by her late mom. “To my beautiful Clara,” reads the attached card. “Everything you need is inside. Love Mother.”
There is something inside. Trouble is, she doesn’t have the key required to open the egg. A party game at her godfather Drosselmeyer’s (Morgan Freeman) Christmas party leads her to the key but it remains out of reach, snatched up by a tiny mouse who lures Clara into the strange world of three Realms: Land of Snowflakes, Land of Flowers and Land of Sweets. There, with Phillip (Jayden Fowora-Knight), a soldier, and an army of mice she learns secrets about her past and embarks on adventures in search of the key. Who will help her—The Sugar Plum Fairy (Keira Knightley)? The Snow Realm King (Richard E. Grant)? Mother Ginger (Helen Mirren)?—and who will conspire against her? “It won’t be easy,” says Drosselmeyer, “but it was her mother’s dying wish.”
The opulence of the set design, the whimsy of the story, the use of classical music and ballet will draw comparisons to “Fantasia” but this is different. It’s part steampunk Christmas, part power princess tale about a girl who discovers, as her mother wrote, “everything you need is inside.”
Foy capably holds the centre of the film but it is Knightley who has all the fun. She’s a glittery-pink-powder-puff with cotton candy hair and a Betty Boop voice. She’s in full pantomime mode, grabbing the spirit of the piece with both hands. Her spirited performance brings such much-needed oomph to the film.
“The Nutcracker And The Four Realms” has some fun moments—the Mouse King is cool but perhaps on the nightmarish side for very small kids—and a timely message that we are stronger together than divided but often feels like an expensive Christmas card—beautiful to look at but flat.
Children’s films don’t get much more magical, or grown up, than “The Little Prince.” A film about wonderment and tragedy, about belief and the importance of dreams, it has important messages for kids, no matter how old they are.
The story begins with an overprotective mother (voice of Rachel McAdams) buys a new house so her daughter (Mackenzie Foy) will be eligible to go to the Werth Academy, the best school in town. Mom is a Type A personality who has an intricate life plan for the little girl who she calls, “My Senior VP.” The house is perfect, trouble is, it’s next-door to a ramshackle home inhabited The Aviator (Jeff Bridges) an eccentric old man who introduces himself by revving up his backyard airplane and sending a propeller shooting through their living room wall.
This inauspicious intro doesn’t bode well for the new neighbours but soon, as The Aviator begins to tell The Little Girl the story of The Little Prince, a boy who lived on the planet scarcely bigger than himself and who is in need of a friend, she is won over and risks a visit with the old man in the mysterious house.
He continues the story of his encounter with The Little Prince until Mother forbids her daughter from spending any more time with the old man. When he is rushed to the hospital, however, the girl is inconsolable. Determined to reunite The Aviator with his old friend the Prince she goes on an adventure into the asteroids.
A mix of computer and otherworldly stop motion animation, “The Little Prince” is a work of art that brims with creativity and emotion. “Kung Fu Panda” director Mark Osborne has adapted Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s classic novella for the screen without losing the magic that made the book so special.
It’s a gently told story that should spark young imaginations and remind older viewers of the importance of hanging on to childhood memories. “Growing up is not the problem,” says The Aviator, “forgetting is.” It’s a potent message when seen through the eyes of a young, unhappy girl being pushed by her Mother to grow up too quickly. As the metaphorical stories unfurl, she learns a new, fantastic way of looking at life.
“The Little Prince” would make a nice companion piece to “Inside Out.” They are very different kinds of films—“Inside Out” is more frenetic, less metaphorical—but both strike a chord in their unique becoming an adult.
