Using astonishing animation and motion capture technology, Steven Spielberg’s The Adventures of Tintin uses the "Secret of the Unicorn" angle to assemble some of the key players and put them in a tale of daring and derring-do. There’s Tintin (Jamie Bell), of course, and his canine sidekick Snowy, who predictably steals the movie. Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis) is his usual whiskey-fuelled self; with this performance and that of Caesar in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, surely Serkis deserves some kind of special award. Interpol’s bumbling yet oddly effective twosome of Thompson (Simon Pegg) and Thomson (Nick Frost) are present to miss obvious clues and still somehow aid Tintin in his mission to thwart the plans of the nefarious – what a delightful and appropriate word – villain Sakharine (Daniel Craig).
See, Tintin buys a model of a ship at a market stall, only to have it stolen. Being a perceptive reporter type, he knows (and explains to the audience) that there’s something special about the model ship, the Unicorn. His search for the truth and history behind the ship brings him into the path of Sakharine, which in turn brings him into an alliance with Haddock. This is a quest picture pure and simple, which has guided some people to comment on the film as an Indiana Jones adventure. While this comparison has its merits, to call Tintin an Indy variation unfairly takes something away from the new movie in the same way as the set-piece discussions have.
I’ll address both issues simultaneously. There’s a structural formula to the Indy movies: each film opens with a memorable set piece that sets the bar for the excitement and spectacle of the film. Think of the rolling boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark and the Shanghai showdown in Temple of Doom. Then there’s a female interest that sometimes functions as the sidekick as well. Towards the end of these movies, Indy and his cohort(s) are captured and their inevitable escape signals the beginning of the end for the bad guys (and the film itself). None of this happens in The Adventures of Tintin. Yes, there’s something of the spirit of Indiana Jones in Tintin, visually and in the storytelling, but Tintin is an established character in his own right in his own identifiable universe. An Indy-Tintin comparison doesn’t get one that far at all.
Tintin is almost completely devoid of females; it really is a boys’ adventure movie. And when, in the comics, did Tintin have a love interest? His focus was always getting the story (and staying alive). Tintin takes a good forty five minutes to introduce characters and clarify their relationships. While there are some exciting moments, these are seldom more than a quick chase or swift escape. It’s nothing like the roller coaster rides that the Indy movies offer. Tintin gathers momentum, and when the scenes of spectacle arrive in the second half of the film they are so much more impressive because of how the film has held back up until then. In this sense, it is also nothing like recent actioners such as Ghost Protocol that seem to have stories based around stunts, and not much else. This brings me to the film’s genius: what it does with memory and transitions.
The technology of computer animation allows Spielberg to transition from one place to another without a traditional edit. Instead of cutting from Tintin and Haddock in Place A to Thompson and Thomson in Place B, Place A becomes, for a moment, part of the visual composition of the Place B – it has to be seen to really be appreciated. The technique is particularly impressive in scenes dealing with Haddock’s memory. As he locates fragments of memories that slowly begin to form a cohesive whole, the film takes us to and from the memory (set many, many years earlier) and where Haddock and Tintin currently are. In one shot, for example, a character in the memory pulls a sword; for a moment it seems as if Haddock’s face is reflected in the blade, and then the camera moves in on the face in the reflection as it quickly becomes the actual face of Haddock recounting his memories to Tintin. A similar shot takes us back to the memory, and then back to the telling, and so on. This is more jaw dropping than anything else in the film.
See, Tintin buys a model of a ship at a market stall, only to have it stolen. Being a perceptive reporter type, he knows (and explains to the audience) that there’s something special about the model ship, the Unicorn. His search for the truth and history behind the ship brings him into the path of Sakharine, which in turn brings him into an alliance with Haddock. This is a quest picture pure and simple, which has guided some people to comment on the film as an Indiana Jones adventure. While this comparison has its merits, to call Tintin an Indy variation unfairly takes something away from the new movie in the same way as the set-piece discussions have.
I’ll address both issues simultaneously. There’s a structural formula to the Indy movies: each film opens with a memorable set piece that sets the bar for the excitement and spectacle of the film. Think of the rolling boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark and the Shanghai showdown in Temple of Doom. Then there’s a female interest that sometimes functions as the sidekick as well. Towards the end of these movies, Indy and his cohort(s) are captured and their inevitable escape signals the beginning of the end for the bad guys (and the film itself). None of this happens in The Adventures of Tintin. Yes, there’s something of the spirit of Indiana Jones in Tintin, visually and in the storytelling, but Tintin is an established character in his own right in his own identifiable universe. An Indy-Tintin comparison doesn’t get one that far at all.
Tintin is almost completely devoid of females; it really is a boys’ adventure movie. And when, in the comics, did Tintin have a love interest? His focus was always getting the story (and staying alive). Tintin takes a good forty five minutes to introduce characters and clarify their relationships. While there are some exciting moments, these are seldom more than a quick chase or swift escape. It’s nothing like the roller coaster rides that the Indy movies offer. Tintin gathers momentum, and when the scenes of spectacle arrive in the second half of the film they are so much more impressive because of how the film has held back up until then. In this sense, it is also nothing like recent actioners such as Ghost Protocol that seem to have stories based around stunts, and not much else. This brings me to the film’s genius: what it does with memory and transitions.
The technology of computer animation allows Spielberg to transition from one place to another without a traditional edit. Instead of cutting from Tintin and Haddock in Place A to Thompson and Thomson in Place B, Place A becomes, for a moment, part of the visual composition of the Place B – it has to be seen to really be appreciated. The technique is particularly impressive in scenes dealing with Haddock’s memory. As he locates fragments of memories that slowly begin to form a cohesive whole, the film takes us to and from the memory (set many, many years earlier) and where Haddock and Tintin currently are. In one shot, for example, a character in the memory pulls a sword; for a moment it seems as if Haddock’s face is reflected in the blade, and then the camera moves in on the face in the reflection as it quickly becomes the actual face of Haddock recounting his memories to Tintin. A similar shot takes us back to the memory, and then back to the telling, and so on. This is more jaw dropping than anything else in the film.
To be sure, the last twenty minutes do suggest a rollercoaster as the bravura chase sequence demonstrates. And there’s a traditional sword duel between two old enemies that doesn’t feature swords but uses a suitable substitute instead, to great excitement. Overall there is a lot of background detail to flesh out Tintin’s world, and the beautifully stylised opening credits sequence tells a complete adventure itself, even before the film has properly started. Considering how atrocious the Asterix adaptations have been, there’s a lot to be thankful for with The Adventures of Tintin, and much to look forward to with Peter Jackson’s sequel.
