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Stardust
A box office fizzle in the US, Stardust should do better on this side of the pond, where the mix of Monty Python-ish silliness, surrealism and romantic derring do is in our bones. Not just your basic, average everyday, ordinary, run-of-the-mill, ho-hum fairy tale, this is a dazzler very nearly from first to last, a live action film that rivals the best recent animated features for guffaws and gob-smacking imagination. Adapted from Neil Gaiman's novel by Jane Goldman (Mrs Jonathan Ross, trivia fans) and director Matthew Vaughn (Layer Cake), Stardust gets off to a rocky start with a prologue told in such broad strokes it comes off as crude and supercilious, even with no less a personage than Sir Ian McKellen narrating. But this richly plotted, thumpingly-scored romp soon settles into an entertaining groove. Tristran (Charlie Cox) is an intrepid young hero from the wrong side of the tracks - or so he thinks - who embarks on a romantic quest to bring back a fallen star as a token of his love for beautiful, aloof Victoria (Sienna Miller). This mission takes him from a nineteenth century English village - "Wall" - into another land, Stormhold, a magical realm where the star in question has transformed into Yvaine (Claire Danes). She's blonde and grumpy - who wouldn't be? - but obviously a better bet than you know who, if only Tristran would stop mooning over the girl he left behind. Stormhold is also home to a rapidly dwindling family of fratricidal princes vying for the throne. The last men standing, Septimus and Primus (Mark Strong and Jason Flemyng) are also after the star, glumly observed from the monochromatic sidelines by their five murdered brothers. Then there's the wicked witch Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer) and her two evil sisters. Their magic is on the wane, but a fresh injection of stardust will restore their youth and vitality (not to mention their cleavage). Lamia means to intercept Yvaine, pluck out her heart and eat it raw; fava beans optional. 
Cut from the same slightly damp cloth as Orlando Bloom, Charlie Cox is dashing and bumbling in roughly equal measure - a quintessentially English combination that will either have you swooning or groaning. As usual, Claire Danes radiates intelligence, but struggles with the naiveté required to offset her character's crankiness. Whatever you make of the young folk, there's no question that the real star power emanates from a delectably witchy Michelle Pfeiffer and Robert De Niro, hamming it up something rotten as a pirate captain by the name of Shakespeare with a surprising skeleton in his closet. Apparently having the time of her life at 48, Pfeiffer clearly savours playing a woman who ages another notch with every spell she casts. De Niro mans the helm of an air ship that's part galleon, part zeppelin, and he smuggles lightning bolts for a living. Among several cameos, Ricky Gervais gets his just desserts as "Ferdy the Fence", while Mark Williams is very funny as a goat. 
This elaborate strain of fantasy meshes easily enough with a cheeky, almost Panto-ish sense of humour, even if the mild ribaldry makes it a questionable proposition for kids. Still, this handsomely produced movie marks a significant step up in scale and accomplishment for Guy Ritchie's producer, Vaughn. For a generation that grew up on The Princess Bride, it's got to feel like a long-overdue happy ending. Tom Charity 
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