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Twist And Snout | Christina Ricci, rocking a scarf and pig nose, in Penelope.

Penelope
Directed by Mark Palansky. Starring Christina Ricci, James McAvoy, Peter Dinklage, Reese Witherspoon. Opens Fri, Feb 29.
2 1/2 Stars

I have one really big problem with the would-be modern-day fairytale Penelope. But before we get to that, some backstory: Penelope is about a young woman (Christina Ricci) who was born with the nose of a pig. See, way back when, for reasons I won’t bother to explain here, a curse was placed on her great-great-grandfather, dooming his first female descendant to be born with a pig’s face. As luck would have it, all his descendants have been boys—until Penelope. And sure enough, the curse came true, so Penelope’s efforts to land a Prince Charming have been pretty much in vain. Guys usually leap through the nearest window when they catch sight of her.

Here’s the problem: The pig nose is supposed to be horrifying to men. But really, it’s just not that awful. In fact, it’s kind of endearing. It’s like an exaggerated button nose. In fact, I think Ricci, already beautiful, looks even cuter with the pig nose. It’s friggin’ adorable, actually, when it should be at least mildly repulsive.

That in itself might not be such a problem, but it’s indicative of the half-measures Penelope takes throughout. It’s supposed to be a contemporary fairytale, set in an Americanized London that’s basically the present day, but where reporters still tap away on typewriters and people talk on rotary phones. The fairytale set-dressing doesn’t hold up very well, though, not extending much beyond a few anachronisms like these. The film’s whole “whimsical alternate reality” isn’t fleshed-out.

Neither is the plot. The first hour or so sees Penelope locked up in her aristocratic parent’s enormous estate, where they try to arrange meetings with potential suitors. One of these is Max (James McAvoy), a disgraced blueblood who lives in a run-down flat playing soulful, melancholy piano tunes. He has a secret, though—he’s really in the employ of Lemon, a shady tabloid reporter who wants to dig up the dirt on the Wilhern family and their never-seen pig girl. 

After a few (days? weeks?) of conversing with Penelope through a one-way mirror so that he can’t see her, she reveals herself. He’s shocked, but by this point he’s also already smitten. After an accident involving Lemon’s hidden camera, she runs off, and he goes back to the city. Penelope runs to the city too, tired of her mother’s matchmaking and her lonely life on the estate. There, she makes real friends for the first time, but her friendships are never well-established enough to be believable. And when Max breaks ties with Lemon and shows up again to declare his love, it all seems rushed, halfway there, not really convincing. (Don’t worry if it seems like I’ve given away the whole movie; I haven’t even touched on the most important plot points.)

Penelope herself also seems a little too worldly to be believable as a girl who’s been locked away from the company of others all her life. The film wants to present her as a charming naïf, bit also as a modern, empowered woman. It’s a balance the script can’t quite strike, and it lends the whole film an air of falsity. Then there’s the ending, which has a nice message about accepting yourself for what you are, but which I also thought was a bit of a cop-out. (No spoilers!)

Penelope still manages to be cute and fun and occasionally funny, thanks mainly to the performances of Ricci, McAvoy, and especially the wonderful Peter Dinklage as the gruff-but-lovable Lemon. It also never crosses the line into sappiness, which is usually almost inevitable with these kinds of films—and Penelope’s success in that regard just makes me regret its considerable flaws even more.

It’s not quite the revamped fairytale classic its creators were going for, but Penelope is still a fun renter for Saturday night with the kids.