Neil Gaiman’s work is a bit of a paradox to me. I like his storytelling and inventiveness – if sometimes reluctantly, for excessive use of pathos -, but visually he consistently seems to be balancing on the fringes of a realm of exuberant quirkyness and fantasy running wild that gives me the creeps for all the wrong reasons. This movie is no exception, with a neat twist on good/evil dichotomies, a likable set of characters, and oodles of visual frills. But several of the ideas here are so enjoyable (the birdmonkeys, sphinx/cats and the pair of giants being just three of the more memorable), that the flaws don’t much matter. Maybe I can even bring myself to read the Sandman one of these days. Why? Because it’s there.
Something to say?