The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn

Directed by Steven Spielberg
Starring Jamie Bell, Andy Serkis, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Daniel Craig, and Snowy the Dog

It was an interesting gambit from the beginning: Steven Spielberg, who, with E.T. and the Indiana Jones trilogy, brought laughter and adventure and magic into the hearts of so many children (myself being one of them) now ran the risk of tarnishing so many precious childhood memories in similarly bold fashion. Not only was he adapting Tintin’s Adventures but some of his most popular and beloved stories, The Secret of the Unicorn saga.

Centred on the intrepid, titular journalist, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn moves at a brisk pace from the purchase of an antique model galleon (named the Unicorn) in a quaint Belgian market to a globetrotting adventure featuring pirate treasure, motorcycle chases, opium traffickers, and throwing balled-up candy wrappers at the children in the row behind us. To be fair, they looked like punks and I had been, well, fucking drinking so I don’t really need any more of an excuse.  

There were a lot of bright colours and fast movement in this movie so it was sort of difficult for me to follow, but I remember the pacing and action sequences being pretty tight, particularly a kinetic 18^th Century-flashback swashbuckling sequence that is almost on par with some of the things Jean-Claude Van Damme has done. Perhaps not the early-mid-90s, Golden Era Van Damme but Spielberg here certainly rivals Maximum Risk or something.

Great makeup artists know no bounds

The dedication of actors to their roles in this film is second to none. Particularly impressive is Nick Frost as Thomson. This guy grew a moustache and must have dropped at least 100 lbs. for the part. And whoever did the makeup for this gig also deserves mad respect; getting Frost and Simon Pegg (who plays the identical Thompson) to look alike is no small feat. They both must have had to dye their moustaches and spend hours in the makeup trailer before each shoot.

I feel the real standout, however, is the canine actor who plays Snowy. Holy shit. Best. Dog. EVER. No horseradish, this dog is doing stunts that put Jackie Chan to shame. I mean this little guy jumps out a window, onto a truck, leaps onto an adjacent fire engine, across the rooftop later, and finally onto the baddies’ car without any Kung Fu training or even opposable digits! I must have spent about half the movie commenting “Jesus fuck this dog is just owning all these people so hard!” before being shushed by the late-twentysomething androgyne sitting next to me. I quickly accused him of hating dogs and looking like a Filipino Gary Busey and he left the theatre in sobs. Maybe a bit harsh but I still stand firmly by both declarations.

This dog is such a badass he needs to be held back

One element I was sore about was Spielberg and Andy Serkis’ decision to make Captain Haddock Scottish. He is the only character in the Tintin stories whose ancestry is discussed, but nowhere in the books is his ethnicity or nationality suggested. It is in fact one of the most hotly contested subjects of debate on Tintin forums worldwide, perhaps second only to the issue of Tintin’s sexuality (for the record I think he’s straight but experimented in college). Although they could have given the character an ambiguous accent or made him a Sloanie like the rest of the characters in the film, the executive decision to Scotify™ (FIRST!) him is upsetting for three reasons:

1. They are adapting, not generating, material and therefore have no right;

2. Any part in a movie requiring a Scottish actor should be offered to Sean Connery;

3. I’m racist and I hate Scots.

  

The one thing they did nail with Haddock was the hard drinking. One of the best representations I’ve seen of substance abuse in a PG environment since the Cookie Monster or those Hobbits in Lord of the Rings. It was such a rewarding Boozy Wednesday experience I turned to my friend Martyn and uttered: “Impromptu drinking game! When Haddock drinks we drink!” but soon realised that this was a terrible idea that might end up with the Captain projectile vomiting towards the audience in 3D causing me to projectile vomit back at him. I know that sounds awesome in theory but I just wasn’t up for it, nor were the three rows of people in front of me.

What I am up for is sequels. I just can’t wait for Spielberg to adapt The Black Island so we get to see Tintin fight that huge angry gorilla. I think in 3D its fur would look so vivid and lifelike that I would have no problem paying £3.50 FOR A PAIR OF GOGGLES EVERY TIME.

Steven: if you’re reading this, I need you to understand that your people will never pay an extra £3.50 for cheap plastic goggles. We’ll just go see a Sacha Baron Cohen movie instead. I know you made Schindler and Munich for us – and hey, word to your mother for that – but you’re alienating us now and it’s not cool. The only reason I made it in is because I haggled the ticket usher down to £1.25 and a handful of popcorn.

Damage: 5/10 (I was gonna write ‘4’ but then I realised I couldn’t clearly remember what I drank so I reckon it was probably a ‘5’ night; there was 6 oz of Glenlivet 15 yo French Oak Reserve in there somewhere)

Boozy rating: 7/10 (with plenty of action and built-in drinking games it earns solid points, but not nearly enough graphic violence and there was this bit in the desert that was way too bright man)

P.S. Whoever is reading my blog in Russia and Brazil big up yourselves. There are only a few things on this planet capable of making my ego any bigger and having readers on four continents: definitely one of them things.