Director and co-screenwriter Todd Phillips, who is best known for blunt,
in-your-face comedies (Old School, The Hangover trilogy) instills his first
foray into “serious drama” with a singular heavy-handedness that never lets up.
Let’s just say that dude needs to learn the art of subtlety. The myriad messages
contained within the story (inadequacy of social services systems in America,
corrupt businessmen, mental illness, the cult of personalty, amongst others)
are delivered with somewhat ham-fisted bravado and utterly lacking any sense of
nuance.
One thing not lacking is exposition. I usually feel that most modern Hollywood fare tends to go light on exposition, here, however, Phillips generously ladles it out. The judicious amounts of set-up prevent the film from really percolating until the latter half of the third act. I get it, it’s meant to be a character study, but there is such a thing as too much character development. Also, the pacing could have been just a tad more brisk. By the time our protagonist completely unravels it’s a bit underwhelming. The long journey we are led on just doesn’t warrant the ultimately predictable end.
But perhaps the most distracting element is the relentless and overbearing score by Hildur Guonadottir. Her string heavy sounds feel as if they were meant for a different film, possibly some cold, arctic drama, not a gritty urban nightmare. What’s more, Phillips has her atonal notes blaring at maximum volume throughout the bulk of the film, rarely allowing for moments of subdued background noise or quietude. The end result is that the music often drowns out the emotional impact of the story, almost as if Phillips is trying to force particular emotions on the audience rather than letting them be cultivated naturally.
The other things bogging the film down are the obvious nods to DeNiro’s classics The King of Comedy and Taxi Driver. The fact that DeNiro himself is a character in the film doesn’t help alleviate these comparisons. While some might find it ironic having the former Travis Bickle be the object of Fleck’s obsession, I did not.
On the plus side there’s Zazie Beets, who although a minor character in the story, still manages to outshine just about everyone else in the cast (fwiw, she has become one of my favorite actors in terms of her ability to disappear completely into every role she has taken to date). Additionally, sprinkled throughout the film are some truly spectacular moments: Fleck, amidst utter chaos in the streets, spreading his bloody fingers across his mouth to create a demonic crimson grin; Fleck’s sweetly creepy clown routine at a children’s hospital; All of Fleck’s Gene Kelly-inspired flights of fantasy; The next-to-last scene when he walks out of a counseling session at Arkham Asylum. There are others, but alas a smattering of well choreographed and artistically composed scenes do not a great movie make; for every one of these moments there are equal moments that were unnecessary or just fell flat (the final scene with Phoenix running through the hallways of Arkham being chased by an orderly as if recreating some scene out of an Abbott and Costello film, for example).
All in all it feels as if Phillips was just a bit too earnest with his first “serious” film, trying too hard to prove that he is more than a a master of crude comedy fare. It also doesn’t help that the spectre of the Batman mythos lurks in the background, yet is never fully developed. In many ways this film might have worked better had it not had any ties to the Caped Crusader at all.
RATING: 2.5 / 5
RIYL: King of Comedy; Taxi Driver
One thing not lacking is exposition. I usually feel that most modern Hollywood fare tends to go light on exposition, here, however, Phillips generously ladles it out. The judicious amounts of set-up prevent the film from really percolating until the latter half of the third act. I get it, it’s meant to be a character study, but there is such a thing as too much character development. Also, the pacing could have been just a tad more brisk. By the time our protagonist completely unravels it’s a bit underwhelming. The long journey we are led on just doesn’t warrant the ultimately predictable end.
But perhaps the most distracting element is the relentless and overbearing score by Hildur Guonadottir. Her string heavy sounds feel as if they were meant for a different film, possibly some cold, arctic drama, not a gritty urban nightmare. What’s more, Phillips has her atonal notes blaring at maximum volume throughout the bulk of the film, rarely allowing for moments of subdued background noise or quietude. The end result is that the music often drowns out the emotional impact of the story, almost as if Phillips is trying to force particular emotions on the audience rather than letting them be cultivated naturally.
The other things bogging the film down are the obvious nods to DeNiro’s classics The King of Comedy and Taxi Driver. The fact that DeNiro himself is a character in the film doesn’t help alleviate these comparisons. While some might find it ironic having the former Travis Bickle be the object of Fleck’s obsession, I did not.
On the plus side there’s Zazie Beets, who although a minor character in the story, still manages to outshine just about everyone else in the cast (fwiw, she has become one of my favorite actors in terms of her ability to disappear completely into every role she has taken to date). Additionally, sprinkled throughout the film are some truly spectacular moments: Fleck, amidst utter chaos in the streets, spreading his bloody fingers across his mouth to create a demonic crimson grin; Fleck’s sweetly creepy clown routine at a children’s hospital; All of Fleck’s Gene Kelly-inspired flights of fantasy; The next-to-last scene when he walks out of a counseling session at Arkham Asylum. There are others, but alas a smattering of well choreographed and artistically composed scenes do not a great movie make; for every one of these moments there are equal moments that were unnecessary or just fell flat (the final scene with Phoenix running through the hallways of Arkham being chased by an orderly as if recreating some scene out of an Abbott and Costello film, for example).
All in all it feels as if Phillips was just a bit too earnest with his first “serious” film, trying too hard to prove that he is more than a a master of crude comedy fare. It also doesn’t help that the spectre of the Batman mythos lurks in the background, yet is never fully developed. In many ways this film might have worked better had it not had any ties to the Caped Crusader at all.
RATING: 2.5 / 5
RIYL: King of Comedy; Taxi Driver
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