Why You Liked … Stardust

What’s got Marvel’s Daredevil… okay, yeah, some DC too with Superman, but roll with me here… And isn’t a superhero movie?

Neil Gaiman wrote Stardust way back in 1999. It took less than ten years for this to bust onto the screen in 2007 with an all-star cast including Magneto—I mean Ian McKellen—as the narrator, Matt Murdock aka Daredevil—I mean Charlie Cox—as hero Tristan, Clark Kent aka Superman—I mean Henry Cavill—as the contentious love triangle rival Humphrey, Sinestro—I mean Mark Strong—as the prime antagonist Septimus, and Janet van Dyne—I mean Michelle Pfeiffer—as evil villain witch Lamia.

If the all-star Marvel and DC power doesn’t bring a tear to the eye, it’s also got the outstanding Claire Danes, who you might also favourably remember from Homeland.

Stars Will Fall

It’s in the nature of the heavens to move and stars to fall. Stardust is one of the enviably few movies that stand alone from its source book. While Gaiman’s book was lovely, the movie trims some of the meandering subplots to deliver a more concise, whimsical narrative. Stardust as a movie is an absolute charm offensive from the opening scene.

We follow lovesick Tristan on his quest to return a fragment of a fallen star to Victoria. Tristan is clueless and single-minded, characteristics shared by many young men. Victoria is a mean girl, a user and abuser, embodying superficial charm and carrying a manipulative streak to drive her own agenda. She can see the benefit of marrying a man for a piece of the heavens. So, Tristan sets out from the ordinary village of Wall to the magical kingdom of Stormhold (on the other side of the wall) to get the fallen star, which, it turns out, is actually a who: Yvaine, played by the smashing Claire Danes.

See, in our world fallen stars are just lumps of celestial rock, but in Stormhold, magic is real. Stars are people, and they watch our world in fascination and horror. When Tristan and Yvaine meet, Tristan brokers a deal with Yvaine: come with me to Victoria and I’ll give you an artefact that will return you to the heavens.

What unfurls is a plot that’s relatively special: it has more than one hero and more than one villain.

Star Power

While Tristan starts off as a bit of a dick, he’s tempered by his journey across Stormhold. While in the magical kingdom, he faces witches and corrupt rulers. The thing is, he’s not the only hero. Yvaine has strength and power of her own, and it’s ultimately her belief in herself and Tristan that allows the movie to end as wonderfully as it does.

Tristan is also aided by an unlikely motley of friends and allies. The slave girl Una, whose history is complex and interwoven with Tristan’s past. The prince Primus, a good man born into an evil house. And even Mark Strong’s Septimus; much like Strong’s other roles, Septimus is complex, rich, and yet… with his vileness comes a level of reluctant alliance that plays out well to the end. It adds a depth to his villainy and a pragmatism that overlaps with the hero’s goals: Septimus lacks neither courage nor drive, both characteristics initially missing from reluctant protagonist Tristan.

The villains are done well. We’ve talked of Septimus, but we can’t overlook either Ditchwater Sal, who arguably started this whole affair by trapping one of the royal line with a magical chain, and Michelle Pfeiffer’s Lamia. Lamia is all the things we expect a witch to be; she avoids the shallow, cackling witch trope, delivering a villain both powerful and tragic. She is a master of the dark arts who has lived countless lifetimes with those she loves and will not be denied. Pfeiffer’s portrayal bonds Lamia’s depravity with her astonishing beauty, creating a villain as powerful and tragic as the heroes’ quest is poignant.

See, it’s not that Lamia is evil that’s so troubling. It’s that she’s evil in a way we can understand. She’s loyal to her sisters and simply wants life everlasting. She doesn’t betray her family like the royal house does; she is powerful, and like many powerful people, she merely views the rest of us as hot-swappable components in their empire.

Brilliance

Stardust’s visual world-building is dazzling and deserves at least a mention. The mix of magic, fantasy landscapes, and intricate costumes is one of the movie’s standout features. It presents a visual treat, blending this whimsical fantasy with dark and enchanting magic in such a way you can even see the seam. Even the film’s magic system feels ancient yet alive, blending beauty with danger in a way that enriches every conflict.

It stands as a refreshing take in a genre often filled with grimdark epics. Fantasy films are often serious or overburdened by lore. Stardust feels… light and fun, and the combination of the two delivers true magic to the cinema audience. We get to be visitors in a magical kingdom, if only for a little while.

The Flawed Diamond

A component the movie won’t be remembered kindly for is its depiction of gender and representation. A comedic slice of the movie is given over to Robert De Niro’s Captain Shakespeare. Shakespeare is a privateer-slash-pirate with a fearsomely bloody reputation, but really he is like many of us: in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shakespeare’s trapped in a role that doesn’t reflect who he is nor who he yearns to be.

See, Shakespeare enjoys comforts over bloodshed, culminating in the reveal of his cross-dressing nature. While this component is well-delivered, the subsequent conversation with his crew where he’s referred to as a ‘whoopsie’, is only funny when viewed through a 2007 lens. This is a minor misstep in an otherwise priceless movie, but serves as a reminder that whenever we mock a group of people, that bullshit can come back to haunt us.

None of this takes away from De Niro’s performance, which is just off the chain in all the right ways. It’s Shakespeare’s charm and gentle nature (the very heart of what the movie uses as a joke) that lets Tristan see Yvaine for who she really is: a wonderful person, both inside and out, and a stark contrast to his betrothed Victoria.

It also takes nothing from the film’s positive representation. In 2007, films like Stardust were starting to experiment with inclusivity but still carried the biases of the time. While imperfect, it’s a stepping stone in the larger narrative of evolving representation in fantasy cinema. The complex and independent female characters of Yvaine and Lamia provide a counterweight to the flaws we see in Shakespeare’s representation. Stardust is a time capsule, a memory handed to us from 2007 where we tried to provide equal footing to our onscreen heroes, but were still trying to learn to narratively walk ourselves.

So, What?

Stardust is one of the most delightful movies to ever grace the screen. It’s a masterful screenplay adaptation, an absolute testament to director Matthew Vaughn and a 100-level course on how to adopt a book for the moviegoer.

Its astonishingly adept use of star power, pun intended, not just for brand cachet but for the perfection of mapping actor to role, leaves a memory that outlasts the shine of its two-hour runtime. It’s a delight to see Danes and Cox bounce off each other. Stardust shows us how actors we normally prize for gravitas can deliver whimsy, delight, and likability.

Stardust is a love letter to the magic we all secretly hope is hiding just on the other side of the mundane. It reminds us that even the unlikeliest heroes can shine if given the chance and that the best treasure might not be what you set out looking for. Sure, the film has its moments of 2007 awkwardness, but those are small blemishes on what is otherwise a cinematic diamond. It’s a reminder of what storytelling can be when it’s imbued with a sense of wonder, humour, and just a touch of starlight.

If you haven’t seen Stardust yet, what are you waiting for? It’s got swashbuckling, magical battles, unforgettable characters, heroism, villainy, wonder, depravity, humour, drama, and Robert De Niro sword-fighting while cross-dressed. Truly: what more could you ask for?

For those of us who have seen it, Stardust is that rare kind of movie that feels like a warm blanket on a cold night. It’s rewatchable, quotable, and its charm sticks with you like glitter after a party. Stardust reminds us that magic might just be waiting beyond the walls of our everyday lives (and that sometimes the best stories are the ones that surprise us). Even fallen stars can light the way. Stardust isn’t just a reminder of the magic in storytelling; it’s a rare fantasy film that dares to find joy and warmth where others lean into darkness. You’re going to find sparkles in your soul for days, and just maybe, forever.