Before getting to that, it's important to understand how The Secret Life of Walter Mitty works. The film is rarely subtle, but it has no reason to be. "The Time and Life Building" reads the building's outside placard, which is one of the first of many uses of comic irony, since those who work in this building seem to have neither. Walter works in an archive and photo lab for Life Magazine, which is framed mostly in shadow. It's a cave he feels comfortable in and one of his few viable outlets for his eruptive creativity. Television shows like House or E.R. have shown cases of extreme brain swelling called intracranial pressure, and unless a doctor punctures the brain with a drill to allow pressure to escape, pressure continues to build to severe levels. Walter is the same way, only instead of intracranial pressure, it's his imagination. Without a release, we see it frequently suffocate his senses as he's sucked up from reality and becomes the principal character in daydreamscapes where he can tell off his sententious boss, rescue dogs out of burning buildings set to explode, or engage in superhero movie brawls. We, everyone, share in these types of fantasies, and it's a clever invitation to sympathize and eventually fight for Walter to break out of his bubble. When they become closer or in reality, those moments feel earned and thus unapologetically hopeful, sure to whisk most audiences off their feet. My own were rarely on the ground. The trouble is, these diversions don't always work, and sometimes disrupt the narrative so negatively I had a hard time finding my way back into the hearts and minds of the characters.

Really, the film is made up of a few almost contradictory parts that never quite resolve. These oppositions are deliberate, evidenced by hard cuts between the daydreams and returning to Walter's actual life that stress the difference between the two. However, the tonal shifts aren't always becoming, and sometimes serve as disruptive distractions that come off as attempts to keep a big audience happy. The use of popular music also calls unnecessary attention to itself, though I'm always a sucker for any use of David Bowie. Much of the usual Ben Stiller comedy gets laughs, but too much of it clashes with the delicate tone of the overriding film. And, although amazingly photographed by cinematographer Stuart Dryburgh, the film's many indulgences into the fantastic venture is just a tad too over the top. It's part of the cheeky charm intended by Ben Stiller, but it seemed as though what he really wanted to make was art house dramedy but didn't share the courage of the title character to do it. Many of these action moments could have stayed, albeit toned down, and used in a more tonally appropriate manner and it wouldn't have dampened the thrills one bit. In fact, it would have made those moments every bit more special for the audience as well as Walter. Walter Mitty the film couldn't nearly match the bravery of Walter Mitty the character, but the charm perseveres. You're guaranteed to leave the theater feeling energized, maybe even euphoric, and smiling.

B-