Four stars. Rating: PG, for mild rude humor and some scary images
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.28.12
Funniest sight-gag I’ve seen in
years: The Invisible Man attempting to convey a clue during a spirited round of
charades.
Hotel Transylvania is
generously laden with similar knee-slappers, many piling one atop the next in
the rat-a-tat-tat manner of a classic Road Runner cartoon. But this is no
seven-minute short; director Genndy Tartakovsky and editor Catherine Apple
successfully maintain an exhilarating pace without sacrificing the character
elements necessary to hold our interest.
It’s an impressive feat, no less
so when considering the involvement of five credited writers: Peter Baynham,
Robert Smigel, Todd Durham, Dan Hageman and Kevin Hageman. That many cooks
generally spoil the magic potion, but in this case everybody’s sensibilities
mesh nicely. The result is a light-hearted spoof of familiar movie monster traditions,
blended with wry takes on young love and an unusually extreme generation gap.
Long, long ago, in a haunted
forest far, far away, Dracula (voiced by Adam Sandler) constructed a lavish
“five-stake resort” that he dubbed Hotel Transylvania: a posh refuge for
monsters and their families to vacation, far from curious — and potentially
dangerous — eyes. As has become typical of our 21st century re-evaluations of
fantasy creatures, these poor monsters are the world’s maligned and
misunderstood, hunted and killed by the humans who fear and hate them.
Bearing that last thought in
mind, Dracula’s massive sanctuary also has been designed as a place where his
daughter, Mavis (Selena Gomez), can grow up safely. Dracula has particular
reason for this parental concern; a century and change ago, his beloved wife —
Mavis’ mother — was killed by just such a human mob.
But Mavis is celebrating her
118th birthday, and — just like the tower-bound Rapunzel, in 2010’s Tangled —
she yearns to explore and experience the outside world. Until now, Dracula has
managed to delay her desire, in part through the distraction of ever more
elaborate birthday parties.
This one is destined to be no
exception, with a guest list that includes Frankenstein (Kevin James) and his
brassy wife, Eunice (Fran Drescher); Wayne (Steve Buscemi) and Wanda (Molly
Shannon), a couple of loving werewolves who have produced litter after litter
of pups; Griffin, the Invisible Man (David Spade); Murray (CeeLo Green), a boisterous,
jive-talking mummy; and Quasimodo (Jon Lovitz), the hotel’s temperamental head
chef, never seen without his loyal rat assistant, Esmeralda.
But those are only the
front-and-center characters; the guest list also includes riffs on every
creature known from myth and cinema, from the gelatinous Blob and the Creature
from the Black Lagoon, to the multi-headed Cerberus, the Abominable Snowman, an
underwater octopoid beast so huge that we never see more than a tentacle or
two, and the assorted witch maids, headless drivers, mariachi skeletons,
limb-challenged zombies and haunted suits of armor that serve as the hotel
staff.
Not that it makes a difference,
despite Mavis’ fondness for all these weird uncles and aunts. Holding her
father to a promise he made years ago, she demands that he allow her to spread
her (bat) wings.
As it happens, though, her desire
for travel gets put on hold with the unexpected arrival of one last guest: an
energetic, way-cool motormouth dude named Jonathan (Andy Samberg), who can
shred a guitar or a skateboard with equal élan. Jonathan has been backpacking
his way across Europe, and with the insatiable curiosity of any 21-year-old, he
naturally follows up on an oft-heard rumor about a mysteriously spooky castle
hidden deep within the Transylvanian woods.
But Jonathan’s presence is a catastrophe
for Dracula, who has long guaranteed his premises to be human-free. Concealing
Jonathon’s healthy pink complexion isn’t difficult; a bit of make-up and an
electrified hairstyle later, the kid is introduced to everybody as Johnnystein,
Frankenstein’s supposed cousin (actually, the cousin of the fellow who, ah,
supplied one of Frankie’s arms).
But Dracula has a much tougher
time dealing with the luminescent goo-goo eyes that suddenly flash between
Jonathan and Mavis: love at first sight.
What’s an undead dad to do?
Although Tartakovsky and his
writers ensure that we remain emotionally involved with these various plot
developments, the filmmakers are just as busy with countless sight gags, snarky
one-liners and hilariously imaginative bits of background business ... starting
when the torch-bearing woman in the Columbia Pictures logo transforms into a
bat. As with the recent ParaNorman, things occasionally slide into gruesome
territory, but never to a degree that becomes offensive or remotely scary.
Some of the jokes gently push the
envelope of good taste, but even they’re in fun. Dracula’s zombie staff members
have both the loyalty and chuckleheadedness of the minions from Despicable Me, and their desire to please sometimes takes a back seat to their own
vaguely remembered desires ... as when one zombie attempts to make off with a
pert, cutely dressed female store manikin, for reasons best left undisclosed.
Sandler makes a wonderfully
pompous vampire, clearly regarded as the big cheese by all his supernatural
friends and guests, but helpless in the face of his daughter’s stricken,
disappointed expressions. Sandler gives his black-caped character a wide range
of moods and emotions, from unexpected gentleness — always played against a
given scene’s apparently ominous mood — to breath-catching flashes of
blood-curdling fury. Based on the actor’s track record with recent dim-bulb
comedies, I think he’s much better as unseen voice talent.
Samberg’s Jonathan is a stitch.
It’s funny enough when this hyper-enthusiastic sorta-slacker first assumes that
he has stumbled into some sort of fan gathering, with folks sporting really rad
costumes; it’s positively side-splitting when the poor guy realizes that he’s
surrounded by (gulp) actual, rotted-flesh-and-putrefied-blood creatures of the
night.
Until he (literally) bumps into
Mavis, of course. No warm-blooded guy could resist a girl this cute ... even if
she does have fangs.
Gomez successfully navigates
Mavis’ many moods, ensuring that her typically teenage character is headstrong
but not demanding, mildly self-centered but never unpleasantly selfish. Mavis
isn’t merely the apple of her father’s eye — a weakness she cheerfully exploits
to her advantage — she’s also adored by all who visit the castle. And, really,
we can’t argue with her desire to escape the constricting confines of her
father’s enveloping cloak ... no matter how noble his intentions.
Buscemi is a hoot as a
beaten-down father never able to hide from his bratty brood, and James gives
Frankenstein an intriguing reading as a sort of blue-collar working stiff.
Lovitz initially makes Quasimodo an overly solicitous toady, but this character
turns menacing in the final act.
Mark Mothersbaugh contributes a
vigorous orchestral score, punctuated at key moments by energetic pop anthems
such as a reworked cover of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” — here retitled
“Call Me Mavy” — and a climactic rap duel involving Dracula, Jonathan and Mavis,
called “Problem (The Monster Remix).” Cute stuff.
You’re well advised to spring for
the film’s 3D format, which lends additional depth and dimension to bat flights
and pell-mell pursuits through the castle’s darkened passages. The 3D “money
sequence,” however, is a ballroom duel of sorts between Dracula and Jonathan,
with floating tables as game pieces. This has nothing to do with the story, and
could be viewed as a time-filling distraction ... were it not so giddily
exhilarating.
I hope Hotel Transylvania hangs
around for at least a month, because it’ll be perfect family viewing for the
night before Halloween.
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