dir. Jeffrey Walker
It has to be hoped, even assumed, that the book on which The Portable Door is based has much more depth, character, and general sense to it than this film adaptation. Our protagonist Paul is shown as a perpetually late, hapless, bumbling sort who can’t work a toaster properly and goes on weedy rambling monologues about how terribly awkward he is. He achieves an intern position at a mysterious firm alongside a young woman named Sophie, and soon, magical antics ensue. The Portable Door vaguely touches on interesting fantasy concepts – the engineering of coincidences, control over someone’s soul, a door which can take you anywhere – and then completely undermines them via a complete lack of exploration or explanation. Why does the firm facilitate meet-cutes for people? Why do they decide to make Sophie like liquorice when she previously hated it? Why did they hire Paul based entirely on the fact that he saw some wall cracks which resembled a map of London? Why do the buildings’ secret goblins change allegiance on a whim? What is this strange fascination they all have with office stationery? Beyond this, goofy acting and bizarre cinematography, including the most blue-washed London ever seen by humankind, mean the film isn’t even competent on a technical level. Of course, in the end, Paul is a sort of “chosen one” who possesses power beyond comprehension and saves the day – unfortunately The Portable Door could not transport us to a realm beyond mundane cliché.
BMDb 