Review: 'The Woman in Black', starring Daniel Radcliffe

Of all the Harry Potter alumni, Daniel Radcliffe is probably in the most tenuous position now that the blockbuster franchise has ended it's decade long run. He's dabbled in other projects outside of the boy wizard's adventures before, and has generally shown to be a talented and more than capable actor. But he's also most likely to be pigeonholed, with people unable to accept him as anything other than a kid with a magic wand and pet owl. Even so, he's still in a better position than poor Rupert Grint. So what's the best decision Radcliffe can make? To star in another film that has him dealing with big houses and supernatural forces. Probably not the wisest move, and his Harry Potter fans who follow him into the tedious The Woman in Black may start wishing for someone to cast a spell and speed up time.

Based on a Susan Collin's dreary but effective novel, the deliberate pacing is one that plays out better on the printed page than on screen. Daniel Radcliffe plays Arthur Kipps, a gloomy lawyer struggling to cope with the death of his wife, who passed tragically years earlier after giving birth to their son. Arthur apparently hasn't smiled since, so much so that his son draws depressing pictures of his Dad(to comical effect). His demeanor is so bleak that Arthur is on the verge of losing his job. Nobody wants a stick in the mud as a colleague. Given one last shot to redeem himself, he's sent to the depressing village of Yorkshire to settle the affairs of a recently deceased woman.

Upon arriving, it's pretty clear nobody wants him there, and the reason has to do with the woman's creaky old home, which as you probably suspected is plagued by an evil spirit. Aren't they all? In this case it's of a woman, wronged in life and separated forever from her dead son. As retribution, her malevolence has plagued the entire village's children, and the streets are littered with the ghosts of her victims who stare blankly out of windows and hang around the woods like creepy stalkers. The town itself is little more than a mudpit with a bit of smog surrounding it, but it's like heaven compared to the house itself, which is full of every horror cliche in the book. Creepy marionettes that look extra spooky in the dark, the type no parent would ever buy their child. Every corner is a blind hazard, every step another rickety shriek of worn out wood, and behind every door lies the possibility of a vengeful poltergeist. Shutters flap, people knock on the door at the most fearful moments. Let's just say that Arthur doesn't get a lot of work done.

Radcliffe may seem like an odd choice to play a grieving widower, but he proves to be the film's greatest asset. His youthful features appear appropriately hardened by years of overwhelming grief, and you can tell his every action is labored by life's meaninglessness. But when faced with immediate danger, some of the old Harry Potter spirit comes through. In contrast to the rest of the cast, including veteran actor Ciaran Hinds, Radcliffe is the only one who seems to be bringing everything he has to what is a very understated role.

It's just unfortunate that so much of the film is completely conventional. Despite director James Watkins' skillful depiction of smog and soot filled Victorian England, the script by the usually reliable Jane Goldman doesn't take us anywhere we haven't been. Atmosphere can only get you so far, and some of the film's old school horror charms wear thin from overuse. How many times are we expected to leap from our seats at a close-up of a toy monkey? Without genuine scares, the glacial pace becomes an even bigger problem. Watching both chapters of Deathly Hallows feels more brisk than this film's plodding 90 minutes.