A Light, Simple Story with a Master's Touch
In nearly all of Steven Spielberg's films, you can feel his enthusiasm for the material. The exuberant musical number that opens Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom; the color and swagger of Catch Me If You Can; the slow, tight push toward a president explaining his legal and political reasoning and methods in Lincoln. Spielberg is rarely bored by his own work, and even with a light, slight story like The BFG, you can feel the warm smile he must have had on his face while making the film.
Adapted by screenwriter Melissa Mathison from the Roald Dahl book of the same name, The BFG follows the precocious orphan Sophie (Ruby Barnhill) as she's snatched from her bed by a giant man she dubs the Big Friendly Giant (Mark Rylance). The BFG whisks her away from 1980s England to Giant Country, where every giant but her captor is a carnivorous man-eater with a particular taste for children.
Spielberg's penchant for casting magnetic child actors continues with Barnhill, who absolutely sells the illusion of interacting with giants and giant objects, not to mention holding her own with her veteran co-stars. Barnhill isn't given any material with the same weight as Elliott having to say goodbye to E.T., but she's always a confident presence onscreen, often more so than Rylance's giant, who is the runt of the giant world.
Rylance, collaborating again with Spielberg after Bridge of Spies, is a perfect fit for the BFG, who is wizened, wise, and yet childlike and gentle. Though the CGI that morphs Rylance into the lanky and big-eared BFG isn't always perfect, his motion capture performance is never lost, and the twinkle in his eye is ever-present. Rylance demonstrates a particular talent for spouting Dahl's gobbledygook names for things—remember Wonka's Everlasting Gobstoppers?—and he manages to sell each and every "whizzpopper" and "snozzcumber" line with sincerity.
Just as Rylance is dedicated to Dahl's language, Spielberg and Mathison have crafted an adaptation that appropriately plays like a bedtime story come to life with the same enchanting touch. The story isn't a deep one, but it's always pleasant, and Spielberg often makes it a delight to watch. Once Sophie arrives in Giant Country, the film turns into a bit of a giant hangout film, where the BFG and Sophie get to know each other while doing their best to avoid the snarling bullies led by the Fleshlumpeater (Jermaine Clement). It all plays a bit like E.T. (which Mathison wrote for Spielberg), with Sophie as the alien in a strange place, but without the narrative urgency of sending E.T. home. When the BFG and Sophie decide to pay a visit to Buckingham Palace in the film's third act, the story gets a much-needed shot in the arm with comedy as the BFG plays the fish out of water character.
Throughout the slower midsection of the film, Spielberg keeps things visually playful and energetic. There are only so many things he can do with his camera in a historical drama while maintaining some restraint, so it's always a treat to see the master cut loose with a fantastical story. The way the BFG plays with shadows and light when he hides amongst the English people is inventive, and the way Spielberg gets to play with perspective in Giant Country is great fun, especially as Sophie runs around a workshop while hiding from the Fleshlumpeater's gang. He achieves long, rollercoaster-like tracking shots not easily achieved in reality, but fully available in the digital realm (Spielberg was similarly playful with The Adventures of Tintin), and Spielberg's mastery of furthering the story with camera movements makes these more than just whimsical diversions.
Though he's made historical films a regular part of his filmography for the last three decades, Steven Spielberg has never stopped making films for children in one form or another. He's a great fit for their stories, because even as he's gotten older, he's always imbued his kids movies with innocence, not childishness. One of the funniest scenes in The BFG involves a lot of farting, and it's hilarious because it's done with a wink and not a snicker (and for the record, it's the best farting scene since Blazing Saddles). Like Roald Dahl, Spielberg doesn't talk down to his audience, even if they're looking up at him, and it's that's consideration for his material and audience that makes Spielberg right for this story. The BFG doesn't approach the narrative and emotional heft of E.T., but it's still a charming tale told by a man who truly cares.