Worst. Jellyfish. Ever

There comes a moment in every young films life when it must make a decision about its future. Does it, for example, carry on as it has previously, or does it take the road less travelled and dare to be different?

Stormbreaker, the first (and possibly last) Alex Rider film, based on a successful series of teen books by Alex Horowitz, makes that fateful second choice and confounds the viewer by turning into an entirely different film altogether. Well, I say turns. Rather it screeches to a halt and makes a fairly radical 180 degree revolution, throwing out grit and smoke and leaving an impressive set of tire tracks on the ground behind it. Watch the film and you'll be able to spot the precise moment for yourself. It occurs around a third of the way into the film, when our young hero enters the Bond-esque villains lair for the first time. Right up until that point, the film succeeds in taking itself relatively seriously and has made no bones about what it is: a James Bond film aimed at kids.

Within the space of mere moments it decides it wants to be comedy instead. Watch with mirth as in short order we're introduced to the evil villain of the piece, his tall, blond, Germanic dominatrix with a comedic accent that must be heard to be disbelieved, and the secondary sidekick, a mute deformed manservant with a talent for knife-throwing, who later attempts to mutilate our hero whilst dressed in a cape. It almost seems that this transition occurs without reason, but no, look carefully and you'll begin to piece together the true reason for this jarring transformation in tone: The Jellyfish!

In the Bond and non-Bond villain canon, villains have been graced with a variety of nefarious pets, from flesh-eating piranhas to sharks (with and without friggin' lasers), but there have been none, I dare say, none to match that with which Stormbreaker presents us. The Jellyfish.

I'm picturing the scene, as the director of the film walks onto the set of the villain lair set for the first time and sees what the effects team have wrought of his beloved jellyfish, the centrepiece of his vision for the completed film. He sees it and stops moving. His lower lip trembles. Not a single word is spoken. With great effort he raises one arm and points a single, trembling finger at the magnificent mockery of a jellyfish before him, his hopes, dreams and future career crashing down to earth before him. A lowly toady bravely sidles up to him and whispers in his ear. "Don't worry boss. We can fix it in post production. A bit of cgi and it'll come out all lovely, like."

I'm really being serious. The film actually tries to introduce the creature as Portuguese man of war, but the thing in the tank is barely recognisable as a jellyfish, let alone a specific species of jellyfish. It truly hearkens back to the low point of Dr Who monsters of the 70s and 80s. I can only imagine that the budget ran out and the vaunted cgi jellyfish was never allowed to materialise. Realising that they'd be stuck with the thing in the tank masquerading as a jellyfish, the production team decides to simply go with the flow and play the whole thing for laughs instead.

And strangely, it kind of works. Bond films have always made allowance for a little humour now and again (perhaps excessively so during the Roger Moore era), and Stormbreaker was perhaps a shade too earnest during it's first act. That said, I'd still argue that the shift in tone was far too sudden, and the film from that point onwards too over the top given what preceded it, but it's heart was generally in the right place, and I still believe the central concept is sound enough to warrant its existence (I base this on the fact that the me of 20 years would probably have had a rollicking time watching it). As it was those of us who saw the film still enjoyed ourselves tremendously, but I do believe a lot of that was due to our dissection of it afterwards.

Suffice it to say, it involved much commentary on my part regarding the jellyfish.