Starring: Voices of Adam Sandler, Andy Samberg, Selena Gomez, Kathryn Hahn, Kevin James, David Spade, Steve Buscemi, Keegan-Michael Key, Jim Gaffigan, Molly Shannon, Fran Drescher, Mel Brooks
Distributor: Sony Pictures
Runtime: 97 mins. Reviewed in Jun 2018
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I must admit that the words “Hotel Transylvania” at the start of a title have never attracted me to a film. Turned off by the cheap slapstick exhibited by the early trailers for the first instalment and a voice cast dominated by Adam Sandler and his merry band of tired comics, I never bothered seeing the first film. Two years ago, I was assigned to review its sequel, and wrote that “Kids could certainly do worse than ‘Hotel Transylvania 2’, but parents will just as certainly hope for better come the next school holidays.” Despite my reservations, ‘Hotel Transylvania 3’ is surprisingly good. It’s predictable and clearly made for short attention spans, but it lands plenty of its jokes and stuffs the screen with visually rich creativity. Sandler’s immature, gurning brand of comedy still makes the occasional, grating appearance, but the rest of their monster trip is fun and funny enough to endure even his trademark schtick.
The titular vacation is brought about by “young” 125-year-old vampire Mavis (Selena Gomez), who is worried that her Dad Dracula (Adam Sandler) is working too hard at their hotel. Although Drac is stressed, in truth it’s because he’s lonely and wants a new partner, Mavis’ mother having died over a century ago. As Drac prefers not to tell Mavis about his desires, he, Mavis, her human husband Johnny (Andy Samberg), their son Dennis (Asher Blinkoff), and a host of Drac’s monster mates all pack their bags and head off to the Bermuda Triangle for a relaxing monster cruise.
The film’s story gives director Genndy Tartakovsky (‘Dexter’s Laboratory’, ‘Samurai Jack’) plenty of room to show off his signature, heavily stylised animation. After the characters endure a flight on board Gremlin Airlines (a set piece loaded with wacky slapstick), their Bermuda Triangle destination appears as a triangular hollow stretching down into the depths of the sea, from which rises a jenga-like tower of wrecked ships and planes, their rusting hulks providing a scaffold that guests use to board their cruise ship. The ship is exaggerated too, impossibly tall and thin – almost square when viewed side-on – and replate with the franchise’s penchant for steampunk-inspired gadgets.
Relaxation quickly gets pushed from Drac’s mind when he “zings” (the monster equivalent of “love at first sight”) with the ship’s operator, Captain Ericka (Kathryn Hahn). As the cruise takes them past underwater volcanoes and deserted islands (locations fertile for more sight gags), Drac only has eyes for Ericka, and must balance his attempts at courtship with keeping his feelings from Mavis. What Drac doesn’t know is that Captain Ericka is secretly a Van Helsing, the notorious family of monster slayers introduced briefly in the film’s prologue trying to slay Drac and Co. Now that Ericka has lured a boatload of monsters into her clutches, her great-grandpappy’s plans of monster destruction can be set in motion. While Ericka and Drac’s collision course goes exactly how you probably expect it will, an innovative story was never this threequel’s biggest selling point.
The screenplay, co-written by Tartakovsky and Michael McCullers, makes savvy use of its holiday setting, with observations that both ring true and hit a nice comedic angle. When Drac’s buddies Wayne the Werewolf (Steve Buscemi) and his wife Wanda (Molly Shannon) stumble across the “Kid’s Club” and drop off their horde of rambunctious wolf pups, parents will relate to both their relaxation and the madness that transpires in the Club. The mass of green jell-o known as Blobby (Tartakovsky again), who stole the second film with his gelatinous body gags (“splatstick” seems an apt designation), gets a few of the big laughs again, and even doubles the fun when he somehow barfs up a little Blobby Jr. after getting a touch seasick. The cruise ship’s troop of staff, half-man-half-fish creatures voiced by the irrepressibly dry Chris Parnell, are also capable of some strong deadpan delivery (including rapping expressionlessly along to a Macklemore track).
For the most part though, whenever Sandler’s Drac jerks and staggers his way onscreen, the laughs become more juvenile, spanning his immature touchstones from flatulence to spouting gibberish. I’m by no means anti-Sandler as a rule (see ‘The Meyerowitz Stories’ for a recent refresher of the excellence he’s capable of), but when he’s in his “comedic” mode, the obnoxiousness of Sandler’s voice alone is aggressively hit and miss. That said, he still seems to understand what children like – the young kids in the packed preview screening in which I saw the film laughed loudly and regularly at his material. I can’t say that he gets what anyone over the age of 13 likes, but then again, who is this movie (and by extension, his performance) really for? Leaving the theatre, I overheard a boy of about eight loudly declare that it was the best movie that he’d ever seen – he can be forgiven for forgetting whatever animated classics he’s presumably seen previously, because if there’s one thing that Sandler’s performance reminds us, it’s that our attention spans are never shorter than they are in childhood.
Having directed the first two films, Tartakovsky understands the potential of the ‘Hotel Transylvania’ franchise and its monstrous players. By taking over writing duties in this instalment, he has far better aligned the tone of the material with the richness of his playful visual wit. He still has to shout to be heard over the Sandler variety show, but shout he does, and enough to make the whole experience a decent holiday diversion. Ironically, there’s nothing scary about that – quite the opposite, in fact.
Callum Ryan is an associate of the Australian Catholic Office for Film & Broadcasting.
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