Hola all. Massawyrm here.

Look. I hated X-Men 3. HATED it. So when Matthew Vaughn ended his videotaped introduction to Stardust with an apology for leaving X3 in the incapable hands of Brett Ratner, I doubled over in my seat. I doubt anyone laughed harder. What would have been nice though is if that introduction had been followed up by a movie that proved that Vaughn was actually capable of taking an adapted genre property and making anything other than a complete mess out of it. Because that's not what followed. What followed was a fucking mess. The word trainwreck would come to mind – if this train ever left the station.

Stardust's biggest, most glaring problem is that it shows a complete misunderstanding of how to structure a fantasy story. It feels like it was put together by someone who has certainly watched and read enough fantasy in their lives, but not by someone who actually understands it. You see, the single most important thing in fantasy is setting. From the days of Lord Dunsany to those of Howard and Lovecraft to those of Tolkien and Lewis, fantasy has been one thing. The same. The stories are so similar, and all share such similar plot threads and themes, that to someone unfamiliar with them they are at times almost indistinguishable. What sets them apart, what makes each distinct and wonderful on their own, is their unique setting.

Through the works of these amazing writers you can visit Hyboria. You can visit Narnia. You can visit Middle-Earth. From the elder gods that swam in through the cold ether of space to the Tharks that roam Barsoom, each world has its own denizens, its own mythology, its own ruleset. And once you've read or watched a great fantasy story, it is fairly simple to try and dream of places undescribed in those works. To insert yourself into that world and imagine just how you would fit into the scheme of things. Or at least, how you'd like to.

Having sat through every last, painful, tongue in cheek moment of Stardust I can't tell you one, single, unique fact about how the world exists or works, or even what type of magical creatures really populate it. Okay, so I'm lying. I do understand it. The world beyond the crack in the Wall is where all the clichés of fantasy go to die, where each one gets painstakingly mocked, ignored then left to rot – kind of like the fiction equivalent of the rock and roll County fair/Theme park circuit. If you've ever seen Rick Springfield or Motley Crue out there making an embarrassing attempt at recapturing their former glory, then you have an idea of what it is to watch witches, unicorns, princes and sky pirates slapped together in a senseless fashion that seems only to exist for the sake of being the framework of a tired fantasy story.

This thing makes almost no sense whatsoever. And I'm not talking about the story. The story makes so much sense a five year old can tell you the ending. No, I'm talking about the fact that I don't understand why certain things are even involved in the film at all. Why do the murdered princes of the realm all appear as ghosts, constantly lingering around their expiring brothers, cracking wise, but otherwise providing nothing to the story? And why were the princes even involved with the story at all except to foreshadow what we're pretty much told at the beginning of the film – that the lead character is actually of royal, fantasy land blood?

And why do we keep getting introduced to new character after new character only to watch them get murdered a few minutes later?

And why the hell do sky pirates collect lightning? What's the point of the lightning? What's the point of them being pirates if they're really just whalers of the sky? Really, what's the point except to show a cool fantasy image, painstakingly ripped out of another, better, fantasy world, without bothering to give a sense of how it all fits into this one?

Oh, wait. I see. It's all just a set up for a really lame series of gay jokes.

And that's where Stardust goes from being just unengaging to being a crippled bore. Stardust wants desperately to be funny. Hell, a number of people at the screening tried to invoke The Princess Bride before fumbling to say "Okay, so it's not exactly The Princess Bride." You're damn right it's not. The Princess Bride was a brilliant deconstruction of fantasy archetypes coupled with a wonderfully engaging story, told with a razor sharp wit. This is Tito Jackson to The Princess Bride's Michael. Every thing about this feels cheap, gag heavy and absolutely inauthentic. A collection of clichés pasted together with pap.

It is exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a fantasy film ineptly aimed at children, except with enough violence, inappropriate sexual situations and humor to keep it from being as readily passed around with kids as something like The Witches. It is a film that wants to spoof the staples of fantasy without ever committing to the idea of parody. And it is proof once again that perhaps the prose of Neil Gaiman should stay just that. Prose. While many present said this film did a very good job of putting the book on the screen, no one could explain to me the point of the sky pirates. Or the ghosts. Or the lightning. It was all just there. And they all just shrugged, completely unable to describe to me the land beyond the crack in the wall.

What makes matters worse is the bumbling of the almost entirely inactive hero, managing his way out of dangerous situations entirely by the grace of the plot alone. Rather than being proactive, this guy is saved time and again by circumstance, never once becoming the hero we're supposed to believe he's destined to be. Whenever he's in a tough scrape, someone shows up to do things for him, or worse, appear as a magical voice inside his head to explain the plot and get him where the plot needs him to be. Then we're treated to a climax of Are you fucking kidding me proportions in which you are forced to ask yourself "If they could have done that all along, why didn't they?"

Maybe it's not Matthew Vaughn's fault. Maybe Gaiman fans were so distracted by his enchanting, luscious wordplay that they failed to notice that there really wasn't anything over that wall after all. And maybe Vaughn discovered this fact far too late himself. Either way, without a setting to stand on, Stardust becomes a lifeless husk plodding along on a well tread path.

If only something interesting happened on the way to the inevitable ending. But it never does. I wanted to love this film. I wanted to immerse myself in another world. I wanted so bad for Stardust to take me away on a two hour romantic flight of escapism. Instead it just frustrated me and took me on a sight seeing tour of memories of other, better worlds.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

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