Step into a world woven from moonbeams, hushed whispers, and the faint fizz of backward bubbles. Long before CGI giants stomped across multiplex screens, there was another BFG, one rendered in the gentle, watercolour hues of late-80s British animation. The 1989 adaptation of Roald Dahl's beloved The BFG wasn't a blockbuster spectacle, but rather a quiet enchantment, the kind of film that felt like a secret discovered on a rainy afternoon, glowing softly from the rented VHS tape slid into the machine. It possessed a charm uniquely its own, a slightly melancholic magic that lingers long after the credits roll.

Directed by Brian Cosgrove – a name synonymous with childhood afternoons for anyone who grew up with the charmingly witty Danger Mouse or Count Duckula from his Cosgrove Hall Films studio – this adaptation captures the eerie wonder of Dahl’s original tale. The story, faithfully adapted by writer John Hambley, introduces us to Sophie (Amanda Root, lending a perfect blend of pluck and vulnerability), an orphan spirited away from her bed during the witching hour by a shadowy giant. But this isn't a tale of terror. Her captor is the Big Friendly Giant (David Jason), a lonely soul who catches dreams and speaks in a wonderfully jumbled dialect known as "gobblefunk."
The film perfectly translates that quintessential Dahlian mix: the cozy safety of the BFG's cave juxtaposed with the genuine menace of his larger, brutish brethren like the Fleshlumpeater and the Bloodbottler. Giant Country feels vast and slightly desolate, rendered in soft blues and greens, while the BFG’s home is a comforting clutter of dream jars and strange contraptions. It’s a visual language that feels intrinsically linked to the era’s hand-drawn animation – perhaps less polished than Disney fare, but possessing a tangible, almost storybook quality that feels utterly right for Dahl's world.

At the heart of The BFG is the magnificent voice work, particularly from David Jason. Already a national treasure in the UK for his role as Del Boy in Only Fools and Horses, Jason becomes the BFG. His performance is a masterclass in vocal characterisation, capturing the giant's inherent kindness, his slight melancholy, and the delightful linguistic gymnastics of gobblefunk ("Whizzpopping!" is delivered with particular aplomb). It’s warm, funny, and deeply affecting. Roald Dahl himself was reportedly delighted with Jason's portrayal, considering it the perfect embodiment of his creation – high praise indeed! Amanda Root provides the perfect counterpoint as Sophie, conveying her intelligence and bravery without sacrificing her childlike wonder. And Angela Thorne brings a delightful regal warmth to the Queen, especially during the film’s wonderfully bizarre breakfast scene at Buckingham Palace.

While the later, grander Spielberg adaptation certainly has its merits, this 1989 version holds a special place. It’s quieter, perhaps a little stranger, and feels intimately connected to the experience of discovering Dahl's worlds through books and television. The animation, while perhaps simple by today's standards, has an undeniable handmade charm. The score by Keith Hopwood and Malcolm Rowe perfectly complements the mood, shifting from gentle wonder to moments of quiet peril. It doesn't shy away from the darker elements inherent in Dahl's work – the other giants are genuinely threatening – but its core message of friendship overcoming loneliness shines through brightly. Watching it again evokes that specific feeling of curling up on the sofa, maybe with a blanket, completely lost in a tale that felt both fantastical and deeply human.
This rating reflects the film's exceptional faithfulness to Dahl's spirit, David Jason's truly iconic voice performance, the charming and distinctive animation style, and its enduring nostalgic warmth. It perfectly captures the book's unique blend of melancholy, wonder, and gentle humour. It may lack the budget of later adaptations, but it possesses a heart and soul that feels utterly genuine. A truly scrumdiddlyumptious piece of animated history.
For anyone who remembers discovering this gem on a well-worn tape, The BFG remains a comforting reminder of animation's power to transport us to places where even giants can be gentle dream-catchers. It’s a phizz-whizzing trip back to a truly golden age of children's storytelling on screen.