Beowulf – The Soul of a True Epic

To compare the recent Warner Bros. release "Beowulf" with DreamWorks' similarly-produced "Shrek" would be just like comparing a CMYK (cyan-magenta-yellow-black) image, the kind usually turned out by four color printing services, with the negatives produced by a standard RGB (red-green-blue) image.  

Even while buzz has been building about the film as early as the second half of last year, it was only during the last couple of months to the run-up of the film's theatrical release when still images of the film started turning up. They were thinking this would set a new benchmark in the field of CGI-animated films in Hollywood (at least, outside the Walt Disney system, with its own built-in loyal following).  

The ensuing success of the historical comic-book adaptation "300" with its CGI-assisted visual flourishes amping up the gore factor to the delight of audiences worldwide only served to spark further anticipation for this adaptation of one of the most beloved epic poems in the English language.  

For one, they have managed to arouse (no pun intended) interest once again in this work of verse, with a powerhouse cast including Academy Award winners Sir Anthony Hopkins and  Angelina Jolie (reuniting once again after Oliver Stone's sword-and-sandal suckfest "Alexander") as well as John Malkovich, Robin Wright Penn and British actor Ray Winstone as the titular beast slayer.
   
Before one can say "a-WOOOHH! a-WOOOOHH!!", Winstone channels his inner King Leonidas when he introduces himself to Hopkins' King Hrothgar.  His Beowulf, as it turns out, is a bit of an egomaniac out for self-aggrandizement. He knows that Grendel is an unarmed, simpering mama's boy (but whatta MAMA-Angelina Jolie with a tentacular-looking tail and anachronistic high heels!!!!) so he faces the ugly mofo buck naked - much to the consternation (and shock) of his "thanes".
  
Director Robert Zemeckis - himself no stranger in blending animation with live-action players (see "Who Framed Roger Rabbit") delivers his promise in pushing the genre to its limits - or as far as the bottom line would have it.  Screenwriters Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary manage to work in some snarky elements of lowbrow humor (like one of Beowulf's "thanes" and his courtship of an amply-endowed barmaid) into the epic story without necessarily distracting from the plot.  Even as the opening scenes at the Meadhall do have a "Shrek"-y feel (especially if Shrek spent a year buffing up at Gold's Gym), once Grendel thunders in and turns one of the punters into human shrimp cocktail, you have this feeling you're not in Far Far Away anymore. 

Arrows fly, limbs get severed from bodies, the hero faces his share of monsters to slay...the eye candy potential is already there ready to be harnessed (many say that the film is best enjoyed in an IMAX 3D theater where the graphics practically LEAP right in front of you); yet one leaves the theatre with the feeling that beneath all the technological wizardry, the soul of a true epic manages to beat in the hero's body as he lays dying on the beach.