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Fairy tale 'Penelope' is just a lot of slop

(C) Penelope stars Christina Ricci as Penelope Wilhern, a blue-blood born with a pig's snout because of a curse put on the Wilhern clan when it refused to let one of her 19th-century forebears marry a servant girl. She can break the curse only when a fellow aristocrat vows to love her for life, so her mother (Catherine O'Hara) hides her away in the family manse until she's of a marriageable age.

Not even the most careful preparation can keep a succession of upper-class twits from jumping out a second-story window when they finally clap eyes on her. The movie is about what happens after one of those marital petitioners (Simon Woods) goes public with his sighting of Penelope, and a would-be fiance with some big secrets of his own (James McAvoy) really does fall in love with her.

I found the sight of McAvoy as a piano player in jazzy-seedy duds a lot more disconcerting than Ricci's porcine prosthesis. McAvoy sacrifices his own charm to channel the reedlike intensity of Adrien Brody's pianist from a few years back (he even resembles Brody slightly here). He burdens the whimsy with an unwonted urgency.

On the other hand, the more extreme O'Hara's hysteria, the funnier she becomes -- when this performer shrieks, she's a scream. And Reese Witherspoon shows up as a chivalrous city gal with a Vespa instead of a white horse. She delivers one of her freest, grittiest turns since Freeway (a little-known, scabrous update of Little Red Riding Hood).

No actor today has better oddball control than Ricci, but even she has a hard time figuring out what spin the filmmakers want to put on Penelope's story. As you watch Penelope, you keep waiting for emotions to build and themes to emerge with fablelike clarity. It touches on any number of up-to-date subjects, from tabloid frenzy to the public's surprising willingness to embrace the new.

At its core, though, the movie lacks the sureness and lucidity of even a fractured fairy tale.

The first half grows increasingly claustrophobic, and when Penelope breaks out of her estate and discovers the bright lights of the metropolis beyond, she and the audience feel relief instead of magical release. You wish you were watching Babe: Pig in the City.

The director, Mark Palansky, and the screenwriter, Leslie Caveney, throw in a tag scene in which a bunch of tykes guess at the story's themes. They include the rottenness of the upper-crust, the blameworthiness of mothers, and "it's not the power of the curse, but the power you give the curse."

Maybe they should have put that last idea at the beginning, since the biggest problem with the movie is that even with a pig's snout, Ricci is awfully cute. She spends 90 minutes learning to love herself when we fall for her in 30 seconds flat.

>>>Penelope (Summit Entertainment) Starring Christina Ricci, Catherine O'Hara. Directed by Mark Palansky. Rated PG for some sexual references and language. Time 103 minutes.

michael.sragow@baltsun.com

Related topic galleries: Christina Ricci, Adrien Brody, Reese Witherspoon

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