I’m inclined to be immediately skeptical whenever another live-action remake of an old animated Disney classic is announced—something that now seems to happen with increasing regularity. There’s no question that resurrecting cherished properties is a gamble: the new films are faced with wholly different contexts and audiences than the originals, with the associated evolution in expectations that this implies—expectations that are generally near impossible for such dated stories to meet unless they’re willing to be vastly altered. In that case, is there even a point putting all that effort into updating something so thoroughly that it becomes unrecognisable? Wouldn’t it be better to just let these fairy tales stay in the past, where they belong? But, of course, we live in times of bankable nostalgia, and Hollywood isn’t about to let go of a chance to cash in on even the merest hint of affection that we might have for a franchise, least of all something as beloved as Beauty and the Beast, the latest entity to be yanked out of Disney’s archives and given the live-action treatment. 

Not that the results of such revivals have always been terrible. Amidst the duds, we’ve also had the occasional unexpected gem, proving that there do indeed exist ways in which the old and the new can be combined so as to appease modern viewers. And while the most recent addition to the list, directed by Bill Condon (Gods and Monsters, Dreamgirls), falls well short of the high bar set by 2015’s Cinderella and 2016’s The Jungle Book, it’s also not to be discounted entirely. It manages to—for the most part—make decent use of the possibilities offered by state-of-the-art digital technology while retaining a dash of the charms of the source material, namely, the 1991 animated feature that it hews close to. 

I’m certain you know the drill: Young Belle (Emma Watson) dreams of a life beyond the rote, “provincial” confines of her tiny community somewhere in France, but so far, the only adventures she’s had have been of the vicarious sort, lived through the pages of the many books she always has her nose stuck in. She is soon about to get her wish, but not nearly in the way she imagined: when her father (Kevin Kline) loses his way in a nearby forest and stumbles upon an old, decrepit castle therein, he is locked up by the owner of said castle, a moody monster (Dan Stevens) who isn’t one to suffer trespassers gladly. 

You see, the Beast had once been a handsome young prince with the world at his well-buffed fingertips, until the day he’d managed to peeve off a passing enchantress with his vain, arrogant ways, and been swiftly turned into his present-day hideous form. Belle meets him when she arrives on scene to rescue ol’ dad and valiantly offers to exchange her own freedom for her father’s, becoming thereafter the Beast’s prisoner. But there’s little time to indulge in self-pity, for the castle is packed to the brim with incredible enchanted objects competing for her attention. As the days pass, even the Beast softens in her view, turning out more of a misunderstood, lonely brute than anything truly sinister. 

Condon and his collaborators set up some pretty remarkable sights along the way: the castle alone is an elaborate gothic wonderland, stuffed to bursting with the odd and eerie. The costumery too is fantastic—Belle’s outfits in particular are something to behold, not least that iconic yellow ball-gown, which receives an extra sprinkle of magical detailing in this iteration. But there are times where the special effects are just so loud and imposing that they crowd out reality, making certain scenes feel overtly manufactured and difficult to become immersed in. This is especially true of the Beast and his household staff—overzealous attempts at rendering them more “photorealistically” through a combination of CGI and motion capture has actually had the opposite effect, draining the characters of expression, so that they have a queer, soulless air about them.

As for the story, Condon and screenwriter Stephen Chbosky have chosen to keep much of it as it was in 1991, apart from a few tweaks here and there, mostly in good taste. We’re offered, for instance, more of a backstory on Belle’s family and her past, as well as that of the Beast, and more scenes of the two talking and getting to know each other—something the original had been happy to gloss over—allowing for a relatively better insight into the cross-species attraction. Other, deliberately “revisionist” add-ons are less effective—whether it’s having Belle invent a crude washing-machine that causes a right scandal in the village, or forcing more diversity into the cast, including that controversial (talk about mindless overreaction!) gay character played by Josh Gad; clearly tossed in to placate demands for more progressive gender portrayals and more inclusivity in the script, but coming off rather superficial. 

Of course, we have to remember that Beauty and the Beast is essentially a Stockholm Syndrome romance—no matter which way you try to turn it, Belle’s fate rests entirely in the Beast’s hairy hands… she might gradually come around to warm, fuzzy feelings for her captor, but the scales of power are very clearly, and dangerously, tipped in his favour the whole time. I suppose what I’m trying to say is, given the inherent creepiness of the entire premise, we can at least appreciate the writers’ attempts to give this Belle a touch more sense and spunk, however paltry such efforts might ultimately prove in the grand scheme of things. 

And while Watson makes for the perfect vehicle for the aforementioned sense and spunk—proven many times over during her decade-long association with the Harry Potter series—there’s something a little lacking in her performance here; it’s a touch too subdued, a bit on the passive side. She still does a good job, don’t get me wrong, but she could’ve brought more urgency to the role than she does, including to the songs, which don’t soar quite as they could’ve. Stevens, meanwhile, manages to give his Beast some personality, even under all those CGI layers, working a dry, self-deprecating wit to successful ends. Luke Evans and Gad, rounding off the villainy corner, look to be enjoying themselves immensely in their cartoony avatars, as do the voice actors, comprising a rich list of talent including Ewan McGregor, Ian McKellen, Emma Thompson and Stanley Tucci, among others.  

There’s no question that comparisons with the original animated version will not be kind to Condon’s adaptation—despite the millions spent on production design, it is still the simple two-dimensional, hand-drawn cartoon that remains with you for longer. Considered on its own, though—to the extent that it’s possible for someone to take such an objective view—it still makes for a pretty enjoyable children’s film, less snarky and smug than what we’re used to these days, pretty to look at on most counts and with reliable performances overall. As far as Mouse House revivals go, this isn’t the worst, but it’s also not among the best.