A Series of Unfortunate Events

There are many sounds one might expect to hear in a Kmart parking lot, on a frigid December day, in the middle of Kansas. The sound of gulls is not one of them. Yet there they were, circling overhead. Eyeing the corpse of a fallen Christmas shopper, no doubt. A curiosity: how did I recognize, immediately and without looking, a sound that ought to be very unfamiliar to me?

I saw Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events today; the rest of this post concerns it, with relatively mild spoilers. Overall, I guess I'd say I liked it and recommend it, but in a bewildered sort of way, with reservations. The opening monologue by the "author" warns us that this will not be a happy film; but it's played for laughs and the audience obliges. By the end I realized how serious he was. It isn't a dark comedy, it's just dark. I'm not sure I would let children see it.

For example: it's easy to laugh at a melodramatic villain and his bumbling attempts at murder, particularly when that villain is Jim Carrey. But it becomes much harder to keep laughing when the villain is entirely and cold-bloodedly successful at some of those murders. You're just left cold after that. An added insult is that, though there's nothing wrong with leaving yourself open for a sequel, Unfortunate Events makes less of an attempt to tie up any of its storylines and mysteries than any film I can recall. Cinematic blue balls, if you will.

On the other hand, the whole film really is a delight to behold, on a par with any of Tim Burton's films. Quirky details are tumbling out of every corner. The closing credits are particularly stunning, and should be watched in their entirety. Possibly under the influence of your favorite mild-altering substance.

I guess that's really all I have to say. It is a good movie, but on the whole, the trailers have deceived you. It's a romp through the macabre, an exercise in how many tragedies you can bear to watch befall perfectly good people. If that's your cup of tea, go for it.