Hey, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab.
Must... see... now!!!
Harry,
Last night in Edgewater, NJ, Miramax held a test screening for Clooney's upcoming directorial debut, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and let's just say it was certainly different from what I expected, and this is coming from someone who absolutely adored Being John Malkovich.
This is not to say, though, that I didn't like the film. In fact, I felt it was borderline great. Obviously, it was a nearly completed work in progress with some color and sound touch-ups needed, but otherwise the film looked rather in order. There will be a couple of scenes, I feel, that will be excised upon release later this year, since they are too silly, and this film, no matter how oddball and ridiculous it is, is not really that silly.
Instead, we are given a consistently surreal, increasingly suspenseful, and shockingly poignant film. While I won't get into much detail about the plot (that should not be spoiled), I will reveal that this is one of the better actor/director outings - and, aside from Eastwood's Unforgiven, the riskiest. The fact that this is a film directed by a mainstream matinee idol in his debut makes it even more of a curio, and a wildly successful one at that. Not everyone will go for this film, but that should be the case, anyway. John Q. Popcorn Gobbler didn't exactly take to Being John Malkovich, either.
Though I continue to bring up BJM, I must stress that this a wildly different film, other than Drew Barrymore's Penny, Chuck Barris' most consistent sex partner and quasi-main squeeze, who seems to combine the sexual frankness of Catherine Keener and the aloof sweetness of Cameron Diaz. Barrymore is quite good, too.
As for Julia Roberts, she nearly steals the movie simply by playing against type as a cold-hearted, ruthless CIA seductress, Barris' other love interest of sorts.
Clooney himself is terrific as CIA agent Jim Byrd, the all-business agent who pulls Barris into the world of international espionage and assassinations. Out of the supporting characters' relationships with Barris, the rapport with Byrd was the most compelling.
Which now brings us to the film's star, who also happens to be the least known out of the marquee list, even including Brad Pitt and Matt Damon in hysterical cameos. Sam Rockwell gives a brilliant, dynamic performance as Chuck Barris. He is a chameleon, and the breakthrough he makes here, it seems, should be considered equal to that of Robert DeNiro's as Travis Bickle. On terms of sheer technique and execution, Rockwell should earn an Academy Award nomination, though I have a feeling that this film may be left out of the loop, altogether. He imbues Barris, one of the most maligned minds in the history of television, with an anti-hero humanity, to the point where the audience may acknowledge they wouldn't like him in real life, but would feel for him on the screen. Neither he, Clooney, nor Charlie Kauffman judge or make a joke of Barris. And this is no small feat for a man referred to by the entertainment press as the downfall of society, or, addressed as, by a Playboy Playmate in the movie, as "the most insidious, despicable force in entertainment today."
Barris' story, whether true or not, should be told, and this is the way to tell it. Clooney, Kauffman, and Rockwell create a paranoia, a true question of reality, and a loony virtual world that was so sorely missing from last year's (unfortunate) Best Picture A Beautiful Mind and Milos' Forman's Man on the Moon. If Howard's film had the paranoia and grittiness of this movie, it would have actually deserved to win, while Andy K. would have gotten a fair cinematic representation as a truly impenetrable multi-dimensional trickster. No attempt is really made to explain Barris' psyche, other than a relevatory, though enigmatic montage at the end, set to "If I Had a Hammer," a musical motif throughout the picture; so, instead, the filmmakers simply create a world worthy of his seedy, misanthropic imagination, whether he was a covert operative or not.
A fine film. Clooney deserves acclaim for his offbeat, though self-effacing, approach, which does hint a little of Soderbergh (an executive producer), but stands alone as a very original piece of work.
That's all I can say.
Call me Gabby Johnson
