2 of 3

But Stardust also inclines us toward more honorable insights: True love is based on honesty and trust rather than skin-deep lust. Those who cling to youth and vanity through cruel and unusual practices will end up empty and corrupt. The pursuit of power leads to heartlessness and destruction.

On a deeper level, Stardust reflects the reality that we're all longing for a higher existence, a heavenly design from which we have fallen. And love opens us to a power greater than any witches' spell.

Michelle Pfeiffer as the powerful witch Lamia

These themes are awkwardly juxtaposed in a film that cannot decide whether it wants to be a quirky, comical tale a la The Princess Bride; a dark, mystical fantasy along the lines of Ridley Scott's Legend; a CGI-fueled battle of wizards who wish they were in Harry Potter's world; or a costume party for legendary actors.

Stardust's extravagant design is its greatest strength. Loosely based on Charles Vess's illustrations for Gaiman's original graphic novel, the movie is full of castles, inns, mansions, and enchanting fantasy landscapes provided by Iceland and Scotland. These are cleverly sewn together with CGI environments in ways that reflect the influence of Peter Jackson's TheLord of the Rings and Andrew Adamson's The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.

The cast holds our attention with enthusiastic performances. Danes is likeable and pulls off her British accent nicely, but there's nothing particularly otherworldly or celestial about her. Cox is charming, growing Tristan up into a winsome swashbuckler. And Peter O'Toole, in his brief appearance, conveys more intelligence and power than any of the other big names.

Pfeiffer, in a welcome return to fairyland, shows that she still has the enchanting beauty and spark that made her such a luminous presence in Ladyhawke twenty-two years ago. But her best moments are quickly shoved aside so she can become a canvas for makeup artists. (When one spell begins to lose its, um, "holding power," her breasts suddenly sag.) Pfeiffer's flamboyant, self-effacing performance makes us wish for a role that takes full advantage of her talents, and her beauty, soon.

Robert De Niro as Captain Shakespeare, the stern commander of a flying ship

De Niro turns in one of his wackiest performances as the gruff Captain Shakespeare, a pirate of the skies who keeps a particularly un-pirate-like secret in his closet. He wins a lot of laughs from the audience. But we're laughing because, well, it's Robert De Niro dancing around in a petticoat. And that breaks the spell of the storytelling. A lesser-known actor could have made the flamboyant captain a stronger character, and avoided the distraction of "stunt casting."

While he's clearly working with combustible talents, director Matthew Vaughn seems incapable of mustering any sense of mystery, magic, suspense, or grace. His experience working with director Guy Ritchie (Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels) shows—the film's far too heavy-handed and action-oriented to cast any kind of spell.

Fantasy is a tricky thing. A little bit of magic goes a long way, and too much of it can

spoil any sense of suspense. In Stardust, there are so many powers, talismans, spells, and transformations that it becomes distracting and confusing.

All of this goes to show just what a phenomenal high-wire act The Princess Bride really was, with its wit, wisdom, and self-effacing wink. Rob Reiner's timeless fantasy classic played to its actors' strengths; Stardust wants us to laugh at how De Niro and Pfeiffer play against type. TPB had a feeling of spontaneity; here, the comedy often feels forced. TPB never needed to jolt us or jar us to hold our attention; but the closer we get to the end of Stardust, the more it assaults us with tiresome special effects exhibitions.

next page... |  2 of 3