The forest has a thousand eyes...

It's that time again, finally facing down the terrible demon of legend that is Rose Fossil's dreaded "Sort and back up later" folder. There are a great many things that comprise the body of this haunting gestalt entity; some of the less threatening things are files with recognisable names, that can easily be classified and sent in peace to their intended destination... others are more vague and ominous, though. Strings of letters and numbers; dates; zip folders of fonts I couldn't be arsed to install; fucking WEPB images!!!; file formats that Windows 11 will randomly decide it doesn't want to work with anymore (RIP.rtf) - the horrors! However, it's in among one of these vaguely named files, that I found treasure...

And that treasure is a mid-'90s TV film adaptation of Roald Dahl's tongue-in-cheek version of Little Red Riding Hood, from Revolting Rhymes (a classic, I loved that book when I was a kid.) This film passed me by, though; I didn't see it on TV, or on tape for that matter, but at some more recent point in time I evidently downloaded a relatively poor quality file, which appeared to have been taped off the telly (there was even the old BBC One logo from the Virtual Globe era!), banged it in this completely disorganised folder and forgot all about it, until this pleasantly bright and sedate Sunday morning.

This film started life as a theatre production (there's some background information on that here), later being recorded and broadcast as a Christmas special of the arts program, Omnibus, and you can definitely see that theatrical lineage here. The cast aren't afraid to bring out some absolute Stage Presence; they are chewing the scenery and coming back for seconds - it's a joy to behold.

We also have woodland and farm animals represented by people in splendid costumes with realistic-leaning animatronic heads, and that is every bit as uncanny as it sounds (I mean that as a glowing compliment.) Among the forest, we're treated to lavishly designed sets, such as the tight thickets and undergrowth where the narrator hides out; Little Red Riding Hood's whimsical fairytale cottage, channelling some serious Pierre et Gilles energy, and Grandma's cottage which is charmingly rustic with its woodland decor, but also sorely run-down, cobweb-ridden and absolutely boughtered in empty booze bottles. All of this is tied together by a lovely score by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. The whole thing is just festooned with love and passion, and I can't get enough of it.

Among the woodland and farmland critters, we have adorable lambkins, hauntingly innocent fawns and boisterous pigs, but my favourites have to be this scruffy sheep and his dreamy-eyed cow companion 'ere - they're just too precious and they have a genuinely wholesome relationship. There's also a biker wolf, a "cool customer" according to our narrator, a minpin (a sort of savvy forest sprite if I remember correctly), portrayed by Ian Holm in delightful fashion. I do wonder if the biker lad was a cheeky nod to the Shangri-Las song, 'Leader of the Pack', or if it was a coincidence. It was a fun moment either way.

There's plenty of breathing room in this film, with fair stretches lacking any dialogue at all, and it's really refreshing to see the audience being trusted to take an interest and find worth in these quieter moments. They invite us get more of a feel for the forest, the tone of each scene and the characters. In among the flow of the story, we're also treated to superb shots of the scenery, whether the camera is picking its way carefully through the undergrowth, gliding through the branches of trees, giving us close-ups of leaves on a rainy night or gazing up at the sun shining through the parting clouds after a storm. It's all very lush and immersive.

It's also well balanced in terms of staying true to the source material and building upon it where necessary, so we get some additional context and gags that weren't there originally, but they complement the original poem well, rather than feeling bolted on. One extra moment in particular is the epic showdown between Grandma and the Big Bad Wolf - it's chaotic, hilarious and it's got Julie Walters and Danny Devito going off with an electric amount of energy. Honestly, what more could you ask for?

Likewise, we have more screentime given to the dichotomy of Little Red Riding Hood herself; she's perfectly in line with the subversive tone of the poem and that is given plenty of time to play out here. It's particularly interesting that Julie Walters portrays both Red Riding Hood and Grandma, two distinctly different characters sharing a very cynical world view, but in different ways, and she conveys these nuances in a delightfully over-the-top way. Our first encounter with our protagonist is while she's cruising along a swanky motor, complete with dapper chauffeur, custom license plate and what appears to be a bottle of champers, exuding low-key mob boss energy while a cuddly, well-spoken wolf news reporter on an adorable little CRT telly announces the murder of the very wealthy Grandma, to which Red chuckles ominously. The gallows humour is already completely off the scale and by this point, we're only a few minutes in - the way this film goes to 11 with absolutely everything is delicious, it must be said.

When we cut to the main meat of the story, Red makes her appearance as a suspiciously sweet spring breeze in her colourful fantasy digs with her delicate ungulate friends (to reiterate: the sheep are so cute, I would die for them) but the sweetness of this scene is quicky undercut as she ties them up and later on, we see her dragging along these same lambkins and fawns on ropes to sell to the surly sow, and not a word is said about it. What feels like a surprising moment for the audience is just another day to her and again, cannot stress this enough, I adore this kind of storytelling. These moments help to set up the payoff towards the end when, of course, "She whips a pistol from her knickers/She aims it at the creature's head/And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead."

So there you have it, a little surprise that made my Sunday morning special, and I'd definitely recommend it if you're looking for something cheeky, surreal and beautifully presented. It's a shame that there doesn't appear to be a better quality version of this about (at time of writing); can't find a DVD anywhere; I checked Archive.org, Youtube and what-have-you, no such luck. Still, it's a delightful little time capsule, a fun curio with a dark sense of humour and above all, a gorgeous celebration of creativity. For that, let us remember this adaptation of Little Red Riding Hood.

This bloke 'ere, just chillin' in the forest, living the dream.