Artemis Fowl Review

Sir Kenneth Branagh is becoming increasingly versatile and mainstream with each film he directs. Somewhat unexpectedly, he directed the first Thor film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2011 (until you realize, Norse mythology of course, can be treated as sharing deep Shakespearian links). He then adapted arguably Christie’s most famous Poirot novel, in his opulently mounted, star-studded version of 2017’s Murder On The Orient Express – playing the exuberantly moustached detective himself.

Now, comes the much delayed, big-screen version of Eoin Colfer’s bestselling young-adult novels. ‘Big-screen’ remains mere wish-fulfilment though - sprinkled in hope by the fairies that populate the narrative’s magical worlds. Branagh’s multi-million-dollar, long gestating project has very sadly been somewhat downgraded to only ever existing through those much-maligned streaming platforms – or, to exercise specificity – the new platform on the evermore competitive block – Disney Plus.

It is such a pity, because its exactly the sort of ambitious, fantastical, blockbusting fare that belongs squarely in the multiplex, instead of within the confines of four corners of ever-decreasing screen-sizes.

  Young Artemis Fowl, is introduced to an entire underground populace of fairies, goblins and giants etc, after his father (another soulfully earnest turn from Colin Farrell) is captured by a faceless, raspy-voiced culprit. Naturally, our titular protagonist is forced to personify the figure of unlikely hero.

  It’s hugely enjoyable, very much in that glossily sheened mould of Robert Rodriguez’s Spy Kids, Anthony Horowitz’s Stormbreaker, a child-palatable version of Matthew Vaughn’s decidedly more adult Kingsman franchise, and a touch of a certain Harry Potter.

  It’s in the supporting roles that the casting choices really shine. Dame Judi Dench’s Commander Root, head elf of Magical Law Enforcement strides onto screen in lime suit and goggled visor with a growly: ‘Top o’ the Mornin’ Cornish accent. It seeks to act as further proof, not that any were needed, that Dench is still finding completely refreshing roles, well into her eighth decade.

Josh Gad, similarly, takes on somewhat of a departure, as Mulch Diggums (a fantasy name for a character, if ever there was one), a giant whose motivations are somewhat ambiguous.

Jake Davies, terrific as the corrupted son and brother in the second series of BBC One’s The Missing, is one of our very best young actors, and here has a small role as one of those lime-suited elves under Dench’s command.

  Jim Clay’s sumptuous production design, and Sammy Sheldon’s costumes, ensure great detail and intricacy is given to every set and character; from Fowl Manor’s gold-encrusted chandeliers, to an entire underwater colony of creatures and security divisions.

  Of course, a cliff-hanger ending sets up an inevitable franchise. There are eight novels in total, so there’s plenty of scope for further instalments.

   The comparatively short running time of 95 minutes jams a lot in, but it’s vibrant, sincere, colourful fun - and a refreshing change for Branagh. I just hope any sequels are released cinematically – which is exactly where they should be.

Rating: * * *