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Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the theatres, screaming teenagers have come back for the latest supernatural romance thriller. While Catherine Hardwicke’s Red Riding Hood is innovative in that it’s a far cry from the bedtime story you remember from your childhood, the film still falls drastically short of its concept.  

It’s hard to reconcile Hardwicke’s first critically acclaimed film, Thirteen, with her take on Red Riding Hood: it’s Twilight with a better standing cast. This red-hooded protagonist, Valerie, played by the doe-eyed Amanda Seyfried, is romantic and rebellious. She is torn between two hunks, Henry (Max Irons) and Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), one of whom may be a werewolf. Does this sound vaguely familiar? It should; Hardwick was, after all, the first to direct the Twilight films.  

Although Valerie is in love with Peter, a poor woodsman, her parents have arranged for her to be married to the wealthier blacksmith, Henry. When Valerie’s sister is killed by a wolf, however, her plan to run away with Peter has to be put on hold, After the men of the town fail to find the murderous wolf, they call on the town priest, Father Solomon (Gary Oldman), to help solve the furry problem. He reveals that the town is haunted not by a mere wolf, but by a werewolf, who takes human shape in the absence of the full moon and lives among them. But who is the big, bad wolf?  

Despite the grown-up makeover of this children fairytale, the film fails to enable the audience to invest in the characters. Seyfried’s Valerie seems more like a Goldilocks who stole Little Red Riding Hood’s cape. As Peter, Fernandez is supposed to be the brooding, reclusive rebel, but acts more like one of Robin Hood’s merry men in tights strolling around town. Acting giants Gary Oldman and Julie Christie are unable to execute their trademark performances, which fizzle underneath their over- the-top-characters as Father Solomon and Grandmother, respectively.  

The romance itself is a superficial plotline that barely scratches the surface, as the seemingly tension-filled love triangle quickly dissolves and transforms into a whodunit mystery.  

The problem with the film is that Hardwicke tries to do too much at once, setting up the film as the stage for a fairytale orgy. For example, during the town’s celebration, the villagers act out a scene from the story of The Three Little Pigs. There’s even a reference to the rabbit’s fur being “snow white.” At one point, Hardwicke starts to mix fairytale elements with religious zeal, at point going as far as to mimic the Salem Witch trials.

Regardless of the wannabe-Twilight characters and narrative, the cinematography was quite beautiful at times. And to be fair, Hardwicke was right to develop Red Riding Hood as a film about sexual awakening rather than simply a girl who tries to visit her ailing grandmother. But she unsuccessfully executes her ideas and in the end, all we got was a mess.