Jack the Giant Killer, from X-Men director Bryan Singer, is the latest in a string of classic fairy tales darkly adapted for the screen. The problem with these is that they try so hard to avoid the kiss of box office death that is the for-kids-and-adults genre, that they end up being a silly, self-conscious incarnation of the anti-family flick and up looking like a Twilight afterthought, aesthetically anyway. And thus we have Jack, a retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk featuring Nicholas Hoult, the kid from the British Skins.
Joining Little Nicky is the ever-likable Stanley Tucci, Eleanor Tomlinson, Ian McShane, Bill Nighy, and introducing Moulin Rouge's very own, Ewan McGregor. The cast isn't the problem, assuming there even is one, it's the terrible CGI graphics on the giant. It's the cheesy Bedrock font they flash at the end. It's the 80's guitar riffs that punctuates the introductions of each title card. Jack almost seems like some strange breed of tongue-and-cheek fantasy comedy -the Comtasy if you will- and we're not sure if we should get super stoned first to enjoy the inevitable giggle-fest that will ensure, or invite the gang over to play Magic the Gathering after the movie. I guess with the Comtasy, the answer is both.
That being said, I'm a sucker for this kind of garble and I will most definitely be in that theater come June 15. But enough about me: How do you feel? Will you see it or won't you?