I would like to make sure my review of Stardust has a viable place in the canon of Stardust reviews, so I will structure it accordingly;
1. Stardust has been praised for its refreshing quality of storytelling. This is false.
I suppose what most reviewers are interchanging here is a refreshing AMOUNT of story for a refreshing QUALITY of storytelling. Yes, there is a huge amount of story (never have I felt like I was watching a 2-hour trailer more than while watching Stardust, it's all expositional vignettes) but it's told very lazily and without much regard for clarity or truth. Wait, Dan, "truth" in a fantasy movie? YES! The main character, 30 seconds after traveling through space-time, figuring out that he must be beside the fallen star he thought would take a week to find, and that the star is in fact a person, he immediately decides to ENSLAVE this person. I'm fine with everything in that sentence except the all-caps. His actions are far more contrived than any of his surroundings, so the bottom falls out from underneath, because they're foregoing truth for the needs of the jam-packed story.
2. Stardust has been praised for the work of Michelle Pfeiffer. This is false.
She's really not impressive, I don't know why they're making this mistake. She falls in and out of her British accent, and she overplays most of her moments. I was waiting for Claire Danes to come back onscreen, surprisingly.
3. Stardust has been deemed an all-around passable let's-not-harp-on-it-when-there's-better-battles-to-wage fantasy film that suffers mostly from bad casting. This is true.
There's no point in raging against this movie, it's just kind of boring, but it doesn't suck. It's as if they've just started making a bunch of movies using the Harry Potter "engine", as if they were video game sequels. But Robert De Niro is garbage, and kind of offensive. And it's hard to offend me (because I keep my moral compass under lock and key!) but this comes damn close. I didn't see Chuck and Larry, but I imagine the level of gay sensitivity is about on par. Ricky Gervais is out of place, and yet somehow underused, and as one shorts-and-oakleys muttered to his girlfriend on the way out of the theater, "needed more Rupert Everett".
And with all weaknesses of the tome addressed and my own insights added to the mix, I am forced, immodestly, to review my own review: nuthin but net!