There are bad movies, there are messy movies… and then there’s Disney’s 2018 A Wrinkle in Time, which manages to make a pile of garbage look like “freshly washed laundry tucked neatly into a carefully painted new wardrobe.” It had a hefty budget, a beloved cast, and source material that’s inspired generations — yet somehow the film plays like someone wrote ideas on index cards, threw them in the air, and filmed whichever ones landed on a dog poo.
From the get-go, it’s a story without agency. Meg and company are essentially abducted by plot. The three mysterious women arrive out of nowhere, herd the kids along without explanation, and the characters just… go with it. The young genius Charles Wallace, instead of being an interesting wild card, is presented as a flawless wunderkind — a cinematic red flag for boredom. In the movie we got, he turns evil out of nowhere. In the movie we could have gotten, he could’ve been an antagonistic thorn in Meg’s side from the start.
Giving Meg the Reins
In our rewrite, the three women aren’t random fairy godmothers — they’re cosmic investigators, looking into a dangerous, unexpected “tessering” event. They suspect it’s connected to Meg’s missing father. Meg, sharp and restless, overhears their conversation and puts two and two together. Instead of being whisked away, she makes a choice: she’s going through that portal.
She drags Charles Wallace and Calvin with her — Charles against his will, Calvin out of fascination (and maybe a dash of teen awkwardness). This single change flips the movie’s energy. Now Meg’s driving the plot, Charles has a legitimate reason to be irritated with her, and Calvin’s loyal, slightly worshipful presence balances the sibling friction.
Charles Wallace: The Slow-Burn Villain
From the moment they leave Earth, Charles questions Meg’s every decision. He doubts her instincts, scoffs at her optimism, and accuses her of chasing a hopeless dream. This isn’t just bickering for the sake of drama — it’s setting the stage for his eventual turn.
Just as Meg is on the verge of breaking through to her father, Charles’s ego pushes him over the edge. Unwilling to admit she might be right, he gives in to IT’s influence, twisting the fabric of space to keep their father hidden. His transformation isn’t random — it’s the inevitable climax of his arc.
A Father Lost in the Corners of the Universe
The original film plops Dad into an empty cosmic room, moping like he’s been waiting for a table at a crowded restaurant. Our version grounds his predicament in lore: tessering requires precise cosmic coordinates and a calm mind. As a newcomer, he overshot his destination and landed in a remote alien village, immediately incarcerated for his different appearance — fed, clothed, but never trusted.
Stressed and untrained, he couldn’t tesser back even if he wanted to. He doesn’t know Earth’s “vibrational signature,” and every failed attempt sends him in circles. Meg and Calvin must follow faint echoes of his failed tessers to find him — a breadcrumb trail sabotaged by Charles at every step.
From Under 5 to Solid 6?
The IMDb score for A Wrinkle in Time sits under 5, the cinematic Bermuda Triangle where films go to be politely forgotten. With stronger character agency, a sibling rivalry that escalates into a meaningful emotional climax, and a father’s plight that makes sense within the story’s own rules, this version could easily climb into the mid-6 range — not perfect, but enough to turn “unwatchable” into “worth a rainy afternoon.”
In short: give the characters a reason to be there, give the relationships tension, and maybe — just maybe — your flying manta ray moment won’t feel like the idea card that stuck because it has gotten some dog poo on it.
Thanks,
Ira