Something is disturbingly familiar about Red Riding Hood, the new Warner Brothers film released this spring, and it's not the Big Bad Wolf, nor my childhood memory of the 700 year old legend that morphed into a Grimm fairy tale. Instead, what jolted me was one lyrical image—a blond ingénue's fiery red cape floating slow-motion to a forest floor smothered in endless gleaming white snow.
Exquisite it is. But exceeded—years ago—by Little Erin Merryweather, an underestimated indie film that accomplished what Red couldn't, despite the latter's $50 million budget and seemingly 50 million computer generated effects.
By contrast, Little Erin's strikingly similar image of a satin cloak gliding off the shoulders of its female lead is real, filmed in the cold of a glistening fresh New England snow. This is cinematic au natural versus everything-from-the-CG-sink, and out of the dregs of that drain Red unintentionally spits up another scary animal—the Big Bad Copycat, a feline whose color is pale. Red literally had 100 times the budget of Little Erin Merryweather. Too bad the film itself wasn't as deep as Warner's oversize pockets.
It is nice to note the actors in Little Erin are on to other things: Vigdis Anholt, the female killer (another of the film's novelties), performs off-Broadway. Brandon Johnson, one of her victims, has his own show on Disney Channel. David Morwick, the winsome and funny male lead, has visited other film genres (political commentary, romantic comedies) and produced Emmy-award winning documentaries.
As for Little Erin, released in 2003, and non-existent CG effects notwithstanding, it has reached quasi-cult eminence here in Australia. To thousands of us living in Oz, its European flair serves as a comfort DVD on a chilly Saturday night. On that, however, the comparison of the two films diverges yet again. Somehow, I doubt the same will ever be said years hence about Red Riding Hood.
Exquisite it is. But exceeded—years ago—by Little Erin Merryweather, an underestimated indie film that accomplished what Red couldn't, despite the latter's $50 million budget and seemingly 50 million computer generated effects.
By contrast, Little Erin's strikingly similar image of a satin cloak gliding off the shoulders of its female lead is real, filmed in the cold of a glistening fresh New England snow. This is cinematic au natural versus everything-from-the-CG-sink, and out of the dregs of that drain Red unintentionally spits up another scary animal—the Big Bad Copycat, a feline whose color is pale. Red literally had 100 times the budget of Little Erin Merryweather. Too bad the film itself wasn't as deep as Warner's oversize pockets.
It is nice to note the actors in Little Erin are on to other things: Vigdis Anholt, the female killer (another of the film's novelties), performs off-Broadway. Brandon Johnson, one of her victims, has his own show on Disney Channel. David Morwick, the winsome and funny male lead, has visited other film genres (political commentary, romantic comedies) and produced Emmy-award winning documentaries.
As for Little Erin, released in 2003, and non-existent CG effects notwithstanding, it has reached quasi-cult eminence here in Australia. To thousands of us living in Oz, its European flair serves as a comfort DVD on a chilly Saturday night. On that, however, the comparison of the two films diverges yet again. Somehow, I doubt the same will ever be said years hence about Red Riding Hood.