Aquillyne

A Wrinkle in Time tries hard to be a thoughtful, original, family- friendly science-fantasy. But so hard does it try, it ends up self- aware, genre-confused and slow. Hindered by poor acting, the film will satisfy only the most patient and simultaneously uninvested of viewers.

While I applaud any film confident enough to take its time setting a backdrop and building characters, this film just takes its time. Largely this is down to the wooden acting, even though the source material (it is based on a book) must also bear some of the blame.

With character names like Mrs. Whotsit, it's clear the story wishes to be charming and maybe even childish. But this is then mixed with extended, shallow expositions about human nature or the Universe, ridiculously precocious (and arrogant) youngsters with a budding but lacklustre mature romance, and quotations from classical literature (plus a splattering of pop culture). It's hard to see who the story could appeal to.

So much time is spent trying to establish an emotional connection, if they'd even spent a fraction scouting for decent lead actors and rewriting the script, they might have succeeded. As it stands, it's simply painful to watch the lead actress rattle off pretentious speeches, inane colloquialisms and emotional exclamations each with the same expressionless face and measured voice. Against stirring piano and violin.

I don't know whether it's the filmmakers' or the original author's fault, but infecting a mediocre kid's plot with an adult's intellectual indulgence - or is it an adult's intellectual indulgence wrapped in a mediocre kid's plot? - can only result in the dilution of each part with the other: the dull smudge that results from the child's fallacy of a more exciting hue created through colours smeared together - which, coincidentally, is the visual image on which the film ends.

You may find reviews of 'Stargate: Continuum' inflated because of its contrast to the preceding 'Ark of Truth'. Whereas 'Ark' was in many ways, but not completely, a huge disappointment, 'Continuum' is and does everything 'Ark' failed at: the plot grips you, and isn't so linear; it surprises you, twists unexpectedly, rolls back on itself and weaves several arcs together, just like any good story should; there's genuine character development; and a deepened attention to detail and realism. Take your pick on one of the best ever 'Stargate SG-1' episodes, and imagine it being given the royal, feature-length treatment. 'Continuum' finally realises this notion without the symptoms of a clumsy transition between 42-minute episodes and an attempted epic that 'Ark' suffered from.

For any of you who are new to the Stargate franchise, I will provide a brief explanation - but thankfully 'Continuum' doesn't make 'Ark's mistake of being incomprehensible for someone who hasn't watched Stargate for 10 years. The Goa'uld are a snake-like race of aliens who implant themselves inside humans, thereby taking total control of their bodies. Some of these aliens have amassed huge power, controlling vast fleets of ships and armies of "Jaffa" warriors, by using various technologies to give the impression that they are gods. Known as the System Lords, they have been conquering the galaxy for millennia. Near the end of 'Stargate SG-1', the System Lords were all but defeated - except for the most cunning, Ba'al, who managed to clone himself in an attempt to render himself unstoppable. 'Continuum' picks up after our heroes, SG-1 - the primary five-strong team taking orders from the U.S. Government to counter such inter-galactic threats - believe they have the last Ba'al remaining.

But Ba'al is tricky as ever and, as ever, Cliff Simon plays him with a delicious mix of scheming genius, elaborate malice and exuberant vanity that has made Ba'al the villain we love to hate and hate to love. Indeed, Cliff Simon gives his singularly best performance of Ba'al to date, and is without a doubt the star of the show. In one dedicated, extended, excruciating sequence, Ba'al's character is really given a playground with the feature-length treatment he's always deserved: if you know Ba'al already you won't be able to stop grinning; if you don't you will fall hopelessly in love. This scene is rivalled only by a truly tense hostage sequence that rivals the best.

In 'Continuum', SG-1 probably faces the toughest trials it ever has, causing the usually gentle-mannered Daniel Jackson to exclaim in profanities twice throughout the film. Initially this shocked me, as care is usually taken to ensure Stargate productions can be watched by all ages - but actually this elevation of maturity really added some welcome grit to the story, and is matched by a handful of graphic, gory killings. This grittiness is enhanced by the aforementioned attention to realism that a full-length movie allows time for. In your typical Stargate episode, being stuck in an ice cavern isn't all too bad - you'll find your way out soon enough. In 'Continuum' this entails that there's no light, you can't light a fire, your fast, hard breaths billow visibly through the air, you're shivering uncontrollably and eventually you'll get frostbite with dire consequences.

At its heart, 'Continuum' is a time-travel story - a staple of science fiction and certainly of Stargate - but handled much better than usual. Whereas the 'SG-1' episode 'Moebius' thought it could hush the time paradoxes it generated aside, 'Continuum' faces them head-on. However, like the best sci-fi, it doesn't attempt to deliver you pseudo-scientific explanations, it just highlights the puzzles for your attention - they're interesting issues as questions alone. Of course, the time-travel itself is no real focus of the film, but more of a device to shake things up; in a sense, 'Continuum' is one, big, Stargate-themed "What if?" Characters are tested to extremes, are forced to interact with completely different roles, and the opportunity is seized to throw in more guest appearances of old characters than you can count.

Besides all this praise there are some things 'Continuum' really lets itself down with. Some very awkward dialogue between the SG-1 members at the beginning reeked of the writer not really knowing what else to say - although there is an extremely bold speech from Vala, impressive only on account of the boldness of writing it in. Some crucial plot moments are swept over far too quickly - how quickly do you think you could be persuaded that your mortal enemy is actually your friend if you'd never met him before? Well, pretty damn quickly, 'Continuum' seems to think - although again there is enough material for the hardcore fan to "explain away" this kind of problem. It was also disappointing that Joel Goldsmith's score was disappointing - many scenes that really needed a strong sense of drama are overplayed by bright, bouncy music, which slightly jars; one thinks, "Aren't people dying here?" That said, it equally has its moments of grandeur.

'Continuum' succeeds by walking the line between returning to SG-1's roots and mixing up the formula. Original series developer Brad Wright writes, with direction from more recent talent Martin Wood. His flair really shows - watch out for an extended tracking shot in the first few minutes of the film that climaxes with the entrance of the heroes. Whereas 'Ark' doesn't at any point seem to know quite what it's doing, 'Continuum' feels guided by more confident creatives, resulting in a satisfying movie for fans of the show.

'Stargate: The Ark of Truth' closes the story left open after the series 'Stargate SG-1' was cancelled. What we must bear in mind however is that the story it closes only began in SG-1's ninth season, and only lasted 40 episodes. The main storyline of 'Stargate SG-1' was already closed at the end of Season 8, after 174 episodes; and I personally would have preferred if the show had ended there. The last two seasons of SG-1 suffered a severe dip in quality that runs straight through into 'The Ark of Truth'.

The film makes absolutely no compromise for new viewers, so I will provide a brief backdrop (although even this will be insufficient to understand the film fully). The Ori are beings living on a higher plane of reality posing as Gods, and the more people who worship them as such, the more powerful they become. A set of similar beings, known as the Alterans (or Ancients) are the only defence against the Ori taking over the Milky Way. However, neither beings are able to directly interfere with physical reality, and hence the Ori use their religion, "Origin", to have their bidding done by humans. A huge army of followers has created a "Supergate", a teleportation device, that they will use to send a fleet of starships and troops to Earth - where they will convert its inhabitants to "Origin" by force. SG-1 is the primary five-strong team taking orders from the U.S. Government to counter these inter-galactic threats.

There was a lot that could have been done with a Stargate film - something that hasn't been seen since 1994 - and the fans of the TV show were certainly expecting a lot. This is perhaps why the film begins so badly - it's like they couldn't think of anything good enough to match the anticipation, so for safety they picked something completely nondescript. That is, a full 2 minutes of mountains; and literally nothing to go with the mountains other than music. I do not exaggerate - there aren't even titles or credits. It's like it's trying to be the epic introduction to 'The Two Towers' (Peter Jackson, 2002) - which begins by gliding through the snowy peaks of a fantasy land - but lacking the brevity, grace, grandeur and beauty. The only thing epic about 'Ark's beginning is the anticlimax.

The ultimate downfall of the film is encapsulated in these first 2 minutes: the production team behind 'Stargate SG-1' had spent ten years making 42-minute episodes - they just didn't know how to handle the scale of something feature-length. The whole film feels like an early Season 10 episode with 60 minutes of padding, as exemplified by these opening fly-bys. Why mountains? As the plot reveals, the mountains have nothing to do with anything. I can easily imagine a brainstorming session the creative team went through, where someone suddenly shouted, "Mountains! Mountains are epic! Just look at the start of The Two Towers!". Any entertainment production needs to grab you from the outset, and 'Ark' crucially fails to do this.

What is perhaps most annoying about the introduction, besides its sheer tedium, is that Joel Goldsmith did indeed provide the film with a grandiose score, and it completely fails to make use of it. In the overture, a subtle, multi-instrumental build-up leads to the familiar but deeper and richer Stargate theme tune which, as anyone who has heard it will know, has a very clear "moment of climax". Indeed, in every Stargate production made to date, except one or two early episodes, this climactic musical note signalled the moment for the display of the title. 'Ark' ignores this and continues flying past its unimpressive selection of mountains.

Immediately following the introduction we have a short discussion between some Alterans, set millions of years ago when they were human in form. They decide that they cannot use the eponymous 'Ark' as a weapon against the Ori as it is too unethical. Immediately we skip to the present, and SG-1 is searching for the Ark to use as a weapon against the Ori. Have I missed something, or has Stargate quite simply thrown away the very thing that made it stand out from the crowd of sci-fi productions; i.e. philosophically and ethically troubled protagonists? This notion is dealt with very lightly; the main character throws some lines at the screen a few times about how the use of the Ark is the better of two evils, or that they are in desperate times, but this pales in comparison to the Season 5 episode where he literally gave his life to save a civilisation. Why the change? The answer is simple: the writers couldn't think of a better solution to the Ori threat, and so they needed their characters to be okay with it.

Because ultimately, what could the solution have been? The show had spent 2 years reiterating that the Ori were a force impossible to reckon with, that their technology was superior to Earth's by light-years, and that if Earth ever came into any kind of combat with them they'd be frazzled before they could don their uniforms: this overbearing power was a necessity both to create tension and also to make the Ori an even more potent foe than the mega-enemies that had just been defeated at the end of Season 8. So when Season 10 concluded, and the Ori were on the brink of invading Earth, what could the solution have been? War would have been out of the question, 40 episodes had demonstrated that negotiation or reason was impossible - we were doomed. Enter the Ark. It is a Deus Ex Machina solution of dizzying proportions, and a McGuffin that sends SG-1 on a padded hunt for 90 minutes, interrupted with improbable enemies. I would have appreciated more creativity than what is effectively looking for a device that has a button reading 'Click Here to Beat the Ori'.