The Canterville Ghost, with the Voice of Stephen Fry

Not all ghosts are scary. Some are rather sad, because they mark the passage of time. Sir Simon de Canterville is definitely like that, but he also shares a kinship with Captain Gregg, Mrs. Muir’s ghost. He was once a holy terror, but he meets his match in a thoroughly modern American family in Kim Burdon’s animated adaptation of The Canterville Ghost, co-directed by Robert Chandler, which opens Friday in theaters.

For three hundred years, Sir Simon scared the willies out of everyone who tried to inhabit Canterville Chase. Unfortunately, Yanks like the Otis family are far too materialistic for ghosts. Virginia’s father Hiram considers himself a man of science, whose electric lights frazzle the ghost’s nerves. Her bratty twin brother torment poor Sir Simon with practical jokes. Of course, she is not scared of him either, but as the late 19^th Century equivalent of a moody goth teen, she is drawn to Sir Simon’s tragic romanticism.

Alas, the ghost would much prefer to be dead, so he can finally be reunited with his beloved wife. Death played a mean trick on him, which made him onery. Otis would like to break his curse, but that will be a complicated and dangerous proposition.

Screenwriters Cory Edwards, Giles New, and Keiron Self collectively did a nice job adapting Oscar Wilde’s novella, retaining his major themes, while punching up some of the dark and stormy bits, for Halloween. Wilde scholars might take issue with Hugh Laurie’s Angel of Death character, but he helps stir the pot and raise the stakes. There is plenty of animated mayhem, but deep down, this film is sadder and wiser than Casper or Topper.

Canterville is indeed a tragic figure, given Shakespearean dimensions (and references) by Stephen Fry’s hammy voice. Emily Carey makes Virginia Otis appealingly smart and sensitive, despite her teen angst. Freddie Highmore sounds appropriately young and befuddled as the Duke of Cheshire, but his voice works surprisingly well in conversation with Carey’s.

The Inventor, the Animated Da Vinci

Everyone knows Leonardo da Vinci was Italian, but there is a good reason why so much of his art is in France. That would be King Francis I, da Vinci’s final and closest patron. That Mona Lisa probably turned out to be a solid national investment. The polymath has reached his twilight years, but there is still much he wants to learn in Jim Capobianco’s The Inventor, “co-directed” by Pierre-Luc Granjon, which opens Friday in New York.

As the film opens, the free-thinking da Vinci’s position in Italy is tenuous at best. His patron Cardinal is fading in health and influence, while Pope Leo X grows increasingly bellicose. He sounds a lot like Steven Toast, so you know he must be a blowhard. Providentially, the younger, more cultured Francis I offers a handy escape hatch.

Nevertheless, da Vinci and his apprentices still reasonably assume it is best to keep his anatomy dissections under wraps, even in France. Da Vinci remains consumed by his quest to discover the seat of the soul, but Francis wants him to whip up something big to impress his fellow monarchs. Da Vinci’s progressive architectural concept for the “ideal city” is not exactly what the King had in mind, but his sister Marguerite is convinced, perhaps more so than da Vinci intended.

The Inventor is a charming animated film that should delight fans of Will Vinton’s Adventures of Mark Twain. It takes liberties with history and science, but it embraces the spirit of da Vinci (at least as we have come to understand it). Also quite refreshingly, Capobianco’s screenplay is completely disinterested in da Vinci’s sexual exploits or speculation on his sexuality, unlike Da Vinci’s Demons and especially Leonardo.

Instead, The Inventor prioritizes animation to explore da Vinci’s inventions and scientific studies. Most of the dramatic scenes are animated in a stop-motion style not unlike vintage Vinton. However, the 2D animation, inspired by the look and feel of da Vinci’s sketches are probably even more distinctive, even though they are largely devoted to da Vinci’s expressionistic reveries.

Wagner & Me: Stephen Fry Geeks Out

Can you separate an artist’s work from their offensive ideology?  Hollywood asks Middle America to do exactly that nearly every weekend.  Granted, the case of Richard Wagner is of a much higher magnitude.  After all, we know whose favorite composer he was.  Stephen Fry is also an ardent admirer, who tries to reconcile his beloved music with the man’s problematic legacy in Patrick McGrady’s Wagner & Me (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Fry is clearly a civilized man of the arts, who actually lost family members in the Holocaust.  He also loves Wagner’s music.  Love might be an understatement.  Touring the celebrated Bayreuth concert hall built to the composer’s specifications as it prepares for its annual Wagner festival, Fry is absolutely giddy.  All his sophistication deserts him.  It is a total fanboy geek out.

Frankly, Fry might cringe at some of this footage in years to come, but on the other hand, cynicism is overrated.  Fry conveys his passion for the music and God bless him for it.  To his credit though, he does not ignore the dark side of Wagner.  While he does not delve too deeply into the composer’s documented anti-Semitic sentiments, he fully explores the way Hitler and the National Socialists used the long deceased Wagner to legitimize their reign of insanity.  W&M is particularly eye-opening when addressing the support Wagner’s heirs lent to Hitler at a very early stage in his career.  Fry also visits a violinist who survived the concentration camps to get her considered judgment on Wagner, which is indeed quite reasonable and reflective.

Wagner will always be a tricky figure to come to terms with.  On a basic level, an artist like Wagner or a veteran of film and television like Fry cannot help it if some unsavory characters become fans of their work.  Yet, many will fairly argue there were chauvinistically nationalistic themes in Wagner’s operas that were all too compatible with National Socialism.  Fry somewhat tries to rehabilitate his idol (while wisely refraining from the “he was a big fan of Mendelssohn and some of his best friends were Jewish” defense the Wagner establishment has floated), but he never closes the deal.

In fact, viewers might walk away from W&M more critical of Wagner the man than when they walked in.  That is a testament to Fry’s honesty if not necessarily his persuasiveness.  Interesting but not essential, Wagner & Me opens this Friday (12/7) in New York at the Quad Cinema.