The Shape of Things

Adam Sorenson (Paul Rudd) is a simple, insecure and shy student that works half period as a security guard of a museum and in a rental. He meets the anarchist and transgressor student of Arts Evelyn Ann Thompson (Rachel Weizs) trying to paint a penis in an important statue, and after arguing with her, in the end they schedule a dinner. Evelyn becomes his girlfriend and he introduces his best friends, Jenny (Gretchen Mol) and Phillip (Frederick Weller), to her. As long as they stay together, Adam's behavior changes and his appearance and confidence improve influenced by Evelyn. He has an affair with Jenny, betraying and lying to Evelyn and to Phillip, and destroying their friendship. When Evelyn presents her thesis for the Master degree, Adam is surprised with revelations.

When I saw the cruel "In the Company of Men" in 1997 or 1998, I became a great fan of Neil LaBute. However, his next good movies have never been in the same level of his debut. In "The Shape of Things", Neil LaBute is in shape again and presents a magnificent cruel and heartless tale of seduction and manipulation. I felt the same surprise as Adam with the plot point of the story, which is a great study of human behavior, with excellent performances of Rachel Weisz and Paul Rudd. My vote is nine.

Title (Brazil): "Arte, Amor e Ilusão" ("Art, Love and Illusion")

After the first 30 minutes I felt like the film lacked energy. The pace was a little too slow for my taste, and the intensity too low. I wanted it to be snappier, more sizzling.

But then, about halfway through, it got really interesting. The second half, although it still suffers from some pacing problems, makes up for the first. And then the third act is one of the most brilliant and satisfying third acts I saw in a long time. The ending brings together all of the elements and themes that were planted throughout the movie (our obsession with the way things look, the line between art and real life) to form insights about our lives that are as brutal as they are true.

I am generally fond of Neil LaBute's work - most of the time his works contain more than what they initially seem to be (I haven't see "The Wicker Man" remake yet, but I heard it was horrible). Here, what starts off as your run-of-the-mill romantic comedy/drama, develops into a cynic's paradise, presenting insights into our lives which are as brutal as they are true.

Three of the four actors do a splendid job (Weisz, Rudd & Mol). I especially liked Paul Rudd's performance, and the way his character changes throughout. All three, and especially Rachel Weisz, are convincing in their roles, and deliver multi-layered performances with lots of subtext. Fred Weller's performance leaves something to be desired, but the fact that his role is well written somewhat makes up for that. LaBute has successfully made all four characters three-dimensional and they feel like real people.

Overall, I'd say it was a pretty great movie, certainly entertaining, and an important one to watch and analyze if you are into writing, directing or acting. Somewher, though, I feel like it didn't live up to its full potential. This script, if directed with more intensity, could have become one of my favorite movies, up there with films such as "Closer", "Glengary Glen Ross" or "Oleanna". Maybe it's the transition from the stage to the screen that made LaBute feel like he should make everything more minimalistic and restrained. But it's definitely worth checking out.

'The Shape Of Things' gave me the impression of being an unconventional romantic comedy. It starts that way and pretty much stays that way in the first half hour. But, in a very subtle way, director LaBute, as though peeling the story, gradually reveals its darkness. The movie gets darker and darker by the minute and the ending is unsettling as Evelyn's revelation is exposed like an unexpected punch in the stomach. This also makes one question the 'little sacrifices' they make to satisfy their partners and the extent one is willing to go. LaBute has based the film on his play and it seems to have translated well on screen. With fine cinematography, tight editing, soulful score and solid writing, 'The Shape of Things' is certainly well made but what would it have been without its outstanding performances. Rachel Weisz is marvelous as Evelyn the artist. It can be described as a tour du force performance. Being more specific would risk revealing spoilers. Paul Rudd brilliantly suits the role of Adam (the names Adam and Eve(lyn) are an obvious reference that may define their relationship, depending on the viewer's perspective). Frederick Weller is great as Rudd's caddish friend and Gretchen Mol is very good. 'The Shape of Things' is certainly not your average rom-com. In fact, it isn't a rom com at all.

Terrifying but so true tale about the way people can control us and the reasons we just let them do it. Rachel Weisz is amazing as art student who makes changes to a lonely guy who just wants to fit in. The story in true Neil Labute fashion takes a macabre turn and makes you question everything that you have done in your relationship and gives you a well deserved punch in the stomach in the reality department as well. The acting is beyond top of its game with Rachel Weisz proving once again to be one of the most talented and gifted actresses of our generation. Her performance is beyond brilliant and she single handily carries this movie on her shoulders with her performance. Paul Rudd, Fred Weller and Gretchen Mole do great work as well and Neil Labute proves once again to be a profound playwright of uncanny wisdom of the evil that resides in the human heart.

I do hope that Weisz and Labute work together again.

Years ago, when I was young and naive about movies, I read a harshly critical review of "The French Connection." The critic's main objection was that the movie deliberately rubbed the viewer's nerves raw in scene after scene, and then when that wasn't enough, applied something like cinematic rubbing alcohol to the abrasions to goad still more extreme reactions. The critic felt bruised and manipulated when the movie was over.

This movie doesn't rub nerves raw and then apply rubbing alcohol; it drills holes straight into the viewer's skull and pours in battery acid. The trouble with this approach is that the viewer is lobotomized almost instantly, unless the viewer is old enough and crusty enough to have seen the kinds of tricks that Hollywood uses to goad us into strong reactions. There's a scene where the anti-protagonist tells the people attending the unveiling of her latest art project that she knows some people will have strongly negative reactions to her work. "Diversity is good," she says in one of the only lines in the movie where her delivery registers just slightly above the robotic, "just don't be apathetic."

That's what the makers of this movie believe in. Love it or hate it, just please please pretty please don't yawn during the movie.

Well, I yawned.

This movie is the cinematic equivalent of every novel Ayn Rand ever wrote, in the sense that its "story" is really a manifesto, and it shows. Sure, if you're young and still intellectually a blank slate, but hungry for ideas, it can provide the starting point for vigorous debates. I suppose. For those of us who don't view the people around us as bugs in a collection, however (probably because we've already had our turns at being treated as a bug in a collection), this movie is just more pseudo-intellectual bile-venting all dressed up as serious, grown-up thinking. Consider such profound observations as, "Cute guys always develop a potty-mouth sooner or later; they think it makes them more adorable." Does this sound like Hegel to you? Or just a cheap cliché?

I wasn't outraged or shocked or horrified or invigorated or captivated or astonished or anything else by this movie, any more than I am by some modern art exhibit that consists of an empty room with flashing lights, or the feces of an artist in a tin, or a severed penis in a jar. No: Just bored. I've seen it before. Five or six years down the road, someone else will come up with essentially the same idea, but they'll have to twist the knife just a bit harder to try to get a reaction from an ever-more jaded audience.

Maybe this time the artist will kill her ersatz boyfriend. In the movie after that, she can cook and eat him. And in the one after that, she'll announce that the hors d'ouevres that her guests are nibbling are none other than the hapless Addam. Each will feature the same huge banner that reads, "Moralists have no place in an art gallery" (remember to make the letters EXTRA BIG like a Wal-Mart banner) and the same pale, Botoxesque, expressionless, emotionless "artiste" that the movie is lauding and skewering at the same time.

Yawn.