Photo by: film.com
Daniel Radcliffe has already done everything most Hollywood stars would want to do in a lifetime. Yet blockbuster stars usually try to prove themselves as serious actors, and Radcliffe takes a swing at it in “The Woman in Black,” which pays homage to the British ghost-story films of old.
The obvious question is if Radcliffe can shed his “Potter” persona for “The Woman in Black,” and he does, to a certain extent. The wardrobe change certainly helps it along; wizarding robes have been exchanged for a black frock coat, round glasses and a scar for perfectly coiffed hair and sideburns. After seeing Radcliffe play someone as dynamic as Harry, though, a more reserved performance, however well-intended, was kind of disappointing.
Radcliffe plays Arthur Kipps, a young, Victorian-era lawyer assigned to manage the affairs of the recently deceased Alice Drablow. Still distraught over his wife’s death in childbirth four years earlier, Arthur realizes he must pull himself together on this case or risk being let go and unable to support his son Joseph (Misha Handley, Radcliffe’s actual godson).
Arthur is immediately rebuffed by locals when he arrives in Crythin Gifford, but a wealthy man named Sam Daily (Ciarán Hinds) offers to let him spend the night with him and his wife (Janet McTeer). Finally able to bribe a carriage driver, Arthur sets off for Eel Marsh House the next morning, where he has the first of several encounters with the spectral Woman in Black. In this haunted house, director James Watkins is careful to comply with horror movie standards: Doors swing shut, the title character flits in and out of the frame, and we jump at the expected-but-unexpected blare of music as a crow flies into a room.
When a local girl dies after drinking lye, the aggrieved parents believe Arthur is to blame. Daily explains that the townspeople think he has awakened the Woman in Black, who makes local children commit suicide as revenge for losing her own child. Even though Daily’s wife claims to be in contact with their self-drowned son, he remains unconvinced, while Arthur remains unconvincing; Radcliffe staggers through the creaking, carpeted house wielding an axe for protection, but never actually seems very scared.
Harry is the benchmark against which all of Radcliffe’s future performances will be judged. It’s hard not to draw comparisons when Arthur fumbles with keys in an attempt to open a locked door; I kept muttering “Alohomora!”
Then again, “The Woman in Black” wouldn’t have been half as scary if Arthur could blast the crazy lady away with a flick of his wand.
