In the last year Robin Williams has re-invented himself – Goodbye Patch Adams, hello Norman Bates. The frenetic comedian seems to have shifted 180 degrees away from the heroic nice-guy roles he became mired in and is now determined to scare us, or at least make us uncomfortable. In Death to Smoochy he was a foul mouthed lunatic bent on revenge. After that he played Walter Finch, a brutal killer and blackmailer in Insomnia. One Hour Photo sees Williams in his most introspective role yet, an obsessed photo-mart clerk on the verge of madness. Who knew Mork could be this creepy? As Sy Parrish, Williams lets go of his usual arsenal of acting tricks, and develops a powerful performance by internalizing the character’s pain. Parrish is very still, like a pot of cold water on the heat waiting to boil. Dressed head to toe in beige – even his hair is blonde – Parrish’s world is stark, boring. He knows he has no life, and has invented an intense imaginary relationship to the Yorkin family, based on the photos of theirs he develops. When he discovers that Mr. Yorkin is cheating on his wife, he springs into action. One Hour Photo is a taut thriller that will take you down unexpected paths.
What do the letters RV stand for? Most commonly they mean Recreational Vehicle, those gas-guzzling behemoths of the road that have come to represent the American Dream on wheels. In the case of the new Robin Williams movie, however, those letters could stand for Ridiculously Vacuous or maybe Really Vapid.
Robin Williams plays Bob Munro a mid-level executive with a psychotic boss. On the eve of a family vacation to Hawaii Bob is told by his boss that instead of taking time with his family he’ll have to report to Colorado for an important meeting. Torn between disappointing his family or getting fired, Bob tries to have it both ways. Rather than tell his family the truth he convinces them to take an RV “family” vacation to the Colorado Rockies—without telling them about the meeting.
Good comic premise, ripe with possibilities but instead we are treated to National Lampoon Vacation-Lite—twice the sweet stuff and only half the laughs. Like Chevy Chase in the National Lampoon series we are laughing at Robin Williams, not with him. The difference is Chase welcomed the laughs by arrogantly doing incredibly stupid things while Williams tries to be lovable as he bumbles his way through his vacation. He seems to be so desperate for approval that laughing at him just seems cruel.
Director Danny DeVito uncovers the soft underbelly of children’s television in this dark comedy starring Edward Norton and a manic Robin Williams. This is a mean spirited piece of work, so dark and profane you have to give Mrs. Doubtfire and the guy from Taxi credit for making it work. With a lesser cast and without a steady hand behind the camera this could have turned into an unredeemable mess. Instead DeVito and cast churn out a comedy that does something unusual, they remain likeable – particularly Williams playing against his recent family-man image – while delivering unpredictable laughs for those who like their humor with a mean streak. Maybe the “Posterboy for Bad Taste” Tom Green should study this movie before he writes his next screenplay.
We’ve finally reached the tipping point where casting Robin Williams has officially become a liability. A case in point: August Rush is a perfectly acceptable modern fairy tale about an orphaned young boy (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’s Freddie Highmore) who feels that his love of music will reunite him with his parents one day. It is a sweet idea, and Highmore with his sad eyes and apparent vulnerability is perfectly cast. If you buy into the idea that this neo-Oliver Twist could truly believe this airy-fairy idea about the magical power of music, then August Rush will work for you. Work for you, that is, until Robin Williams comes along with his Bono-wannabe hat and all his usual bluster and completely throws the movie off the rails.
Keri Russell and Jonathan Rhys Meyers play Lyla and Louis, musicians from two different worlds. He’s a poor rock singer, she a rich cello prodigy. They meet on a rooftop overlooking NYC’s Washington Square Park, spend the night together and conceive a child. Her overbearing father conspires to keep them apart, and following a tragic car accident tells Lyla that the child was killed, while, in fact, secretly putting it up for adoption.
Eleven years later Lyla and Louis have moved on. She’s now a music teacher, unaware that her son is still alive; disillusioned he’s given up music completely. The child, convinced he can locate his parents, escapes the orphanage where he has grown up and makes off for the big city. He comes under the spell of a “musical Fagin” named Wizard (Robin Williams) who imparts new agey wisdom like “music is the harmonic connection between all living beings” and teaches the boy how to play the music that may eventually reunite him with his parents.
You have to have a strong willingness to suspend your disbelief to buy into August Rush’s storyline, but if you can you’ll find lots here to like. Highmore is a charmer on screen, Russell and Meyers are the very definition of star-crossed and director Kirsten Sheridan gives the proceedings an agreeable fairy tale feel, but whenever Williams hits the screen it’s as though this fable’s Ogre has awoken to chew the scenery and destroy any of the good will the movie had already accrued. He’s so annoying, and in the later half of the movie, so unnecessary to the plot, that the term “over-the-top” scarcely does him justice.
August Rush is a well-meaning but clichéd film with a nice message and decent music, but is almost done in by its casting.
In the last year Robin Williams has re-invented himself – Goodbye Patch Adams, hello Norman Bates. The frenetic comedian seems to have shifted 180 degrees away from the heroic nice-guy roles he became mired in and is now determined to scare us, or at least make us uncomfortable. In Death to Smoochy he was a foul mouthed lunatic bent on revenge. After that he played Walter Finch, a brutal killer and blackmailer in Insomnia. One Hour Photo sees Williams in his most introspective role yet, an obsessed photo-mart clerk on the verge of madness. Who knew Mork could be this creepy? As Sy Parrish, Williams lets go of his usual arsenal of acting tricks, and develops a powerful performance by internalizing the character’s pain. Parrish is very still, like a pot of cold water on the heat waiting to boil. Dressed head to toe in beige – even his hair is blonde – Parrish’s world is stark, boring. He knows he has no life, and has invented an intense imaginary relationship to the Yorkin family, based on the photos of theirs he develops. When he discovers that Mr. Yorkin is cheating on his wife, he springs into action. One Hour Photo is a taut thriller that will take you down unexpected paths.
