Review: A Tooth Fairy Tale is an flimsy tooth pic
Most of my Letterboxd activity is pretty run-of-the-mill. I keep ranked lists for each year, lists for certain filmmakers or studios, stuff like that. My most specific list is one titled "Animated movies I wish were GameCube-era video games instead," which was inspired by watching Riki the Rhino a few years ago, and finding a lot to like it in despite it not being particularly good. It's still a pretty small list, because it's a pretty small target for a movie to hit. But today, it gained another entry: A Tooth Fairy Tale
Often, a large part of making this list comes down to aesthetic. If a movie doesn't look that great, but still has a charm to it, it leads me to thinking about what it would look like with those GameCube graphics, and yeah, that was definitely the case with A Tooth Fairy Tale. This isn't some crazy eyesore. The characters look nice. There's some nice texture work -- scuffed surfaces, sleek shiny coins. But there's also a good but of jank, like crazy-looking spider webs and weirdly-texture rocks. This isn't disqualifying for a movie by any means, but it is a little hurdle you have to get over before you can settle in and enjoy the ride for what it is.
And I did end up enjoying the ride for what it was! While there's nothing groundbreaking to be found in this adventure, it does what it needs to do. Its story tackles a lot of familiar beats, the world-building is basic, the characters follow well-defined arcs. And it's all fine. It has the feeling of ordering comfort food from a restaurant that you'll never go back to. Maybe the flavors aren't popping. You've certainly eaten better versions of this dish. But listen, I love meatloaf, and if I'm eating meatloaf, I'll probably be pretty satisfied, even if it doesn't taste like my mom's.
We're dropped into Fairyland, a sylvan, sun-drenched village where fairies work alongside insects to preserve a(n uneasy) peace with the unseen goblins. Goblins provide gold coins which the fairies leave in place of lost teeth. Those teeth are then processed into fairy dust. Carts of fairy dust are dropped off at the entrance to Goblin City, where the next batch of gold coins are waiting to be collected. It's a system that works even if each side views the other with suspicion, and malice. Fairies assume that goblins are ugly and dumb, and those assumptions go the other way, too. But as long as everyone stays in their lanes, things can keep on keeping on.
But Van, the son of the Headmaster of Tooth Fairy Instruction, thinks a bit outside the box. He has a hole in his wing, so he prefers to ride his "shredder" (skateboard) rather than shakily fly. He regards magic with suspicion -- he finds it unreliable and strange. And when he goes out to collect a tooth and instead spots a goblin girl named Gemma, he finds himself drawn to her, wanting to know more.
I have to note a weird wrinkle in how this all works. I always assumed the tooth fairies had some way of knowing when a kid lost a tooth. Some magic awareness, maybe some tech that alerts them. But in this movie, no, that's not the case. Instead, they just fly around town looking for kids and checking under their pillows willy-nilly until they find a tooth. It's a horrible system! And also, how many kids can there possibly be in this town? How many teeth can they have? Why is it so unpleasant to look at kids with missing teeth? It's gross!
Not gross: Van. This little twink fairy is so cute, with his blue eyes and swoopy hair and pointy ears. I love him dearly.
When Van makes it to Goblin City, he finds an advanced technological civilization. Think Wakanda vibes, right down the the Black Panther-esque suit that Gemma wears when she ventures into the outside world. She takes after her grandmother, who was also curious and adventurous, and who mysteriously disappeared years ago. There's a nice dichotomy between the fairy's magic and the goblins' science, which is reflected in their cities, garb, and approach to the world. It provides a nice backdrop for the forbidden romance (naturally) between Van and Gemma, who both are willing to stick their necks out to understand more of the world, and each other. The movie is at its best when the two are on screen together -- they have great chemistry, fun banter, and complement each other well.
Ultimately, the two become determined to unite their peoples, based in part on an ancient cave drawing showing goblins and fairies uniting against a common enemy: the spiders (enter the weird-looking webs). The spiders are pretty under-developed, but there needs to be a foe to bring everyone together, and they do the trick. The final piece is the trolls, which are shaped like the classic dolls but look more like bears. Early in the film, Van befriends Rupee, a troll with a very fun accent who becomes an important ally, and serves as the film's narrator in certain moments.
The action-packed finale is a bit of a blob. Van has to rescue Gemma. Then their families need to rescue both of them. Then the trolls need to rescue all of them. It feels very "and then, and then, and then," but it does underline the film's message of banding together and building community with people who are different than us, so I'll give it a pass, even if it's a bit clunky in execution.
Weirdly, in A Tooth Fairy Tale, the tooth-iness of it all almost feels like an afterthought. Sure, there's a bit of lore there, but ultimately, it feels like more of a convenient gateway into telling a pretty typical story of finding kinship with others, fighting prejudice, etc. Which is all good and well, but then why did I have to look at pictures of gross missing-toothed kids?
Oh, and here's that list:
Comments
Post a Comment