The Californians

This is a film that fails greatness by a stretch, but is still better than most of the trite by-the-numbers crud churned out by Hollywood for the Spike TV crowd these days. "The Californians" features a few genuinely funny moments and some quietly competent acting by a fine cast. Just when you think you have it pegged as an "ecofreak" movie or a satire on hippy-dippy California culture or a send-up of greedy and insatiable developers, it makes a sharp turn into something else. I have a sneaking sympathy for films that violate expectations and refuse to be pinned down. No easy answers; no car chases; no Star Turns -- can you deal with it?

If John Muir were alive today, he might make a movie like The Californians. Gavin Ransom (Noah Wyle), an avaricious real estate developer and land exploiter has a twin sister, Olive Ransom (Illeana Douglas) who is a passionate environmentalist and vegan. Their diametrical philosophies illuminate the intricacies of hypocrisy. Olive discovers a mellifluous vocalist, Zoe Tripp (Kate Mara), whose pro-ecology ballads are reminiscent of Joan Baez. Soon Zoe is offered a recording contract, which excludes her guitarist-accompanist father, Elton Tripp (Keith Carradine), and the lyrical import of her songs is threatened by commercialism, as many species are threatened by builders and human population growth. A romance develops between Gavin and Zoe, despite Olive's opposition, as Gavin loses his way on the road to quick riches, and finds other values aside from money.

One has to wonder how did Henry James novel "The Bostonians" inspired Jonathan Parker into re-telling it using themes of ecology, greed and love in the Californian landscape of Marin County. The basic problem with the film is that it throws a lot of ideas around, but eventually none of them come to be realized.

The idea that a young woman, Zoe, the daughter of progressive parents that are into the environment and that falls for the greedy developer, Gavin,is something that doesn't pan well. The same goes for Olive, the sister of Gavin who is opposed to all his big plans to create a gated community where multi-million dollar homes are going to built.

The only interesting thing in the film is the cast that Mr. Parker attracted. Noah Wyle, Ileana Douglas, Kate Mora, Joanne Whalley, Keith Carradine, Cloris Leachman, and Valerie Perrine, are among the players of this satirical film that doesn't live to its premise.

Generally I view films out of the USA as second class. They all appear to be obsessed with violence, nudity, sex or drugs. None of which I will watch.

This movie had none of those disgusting attributes. While it was a satire that did "take the mickey" out of both sides of an issue, as previously mentioned, it did have an underlying message with meaning (actually meanings).

I found the text enjoyable and easy to listen to. I found the singing by all artists excellent. Notwithstanding other comments, the movie did have a flowing story.

I urge the movie producers of this planet to learn that they can produce quality.

I live in Marin County where this flick was filmed and was an extra in it. I remember watching Jonathan Parker direct his actors and thinking, "This is gonna look better in the finished product. It HAS to." Because what I was seeing looked laughably amateurish. If not for the presence of name actors like Noah Wylie and Illiana Douglas, I would have assumed I was watching the production of a student film.

Well, when this baby finally hit screens at the Mill Valley Film Festival, I was surprised to find my suspicions had been correct: no amount of editing or re-packaging was gonna polish this turd.

What's too bad about all this is that, at its core, the movie had some good ideas. The ongoing battle between slick, greedy developers and aging, environmentalist hippie boomers is a very real one here in the Bay Area, and there's ample hypocrisy and fodder for satire on both sides.

But Parker gets lost in a sea of tired clichés and labored, talky dialog and in the end can't decide what kind of movie he wants to make. Is it a satire of the tug-of-war between progress and preservation and the colorful players involved? Or is it a sappy, love-triangle romance? Or how about the tale of a short-sighted man's redemption by way of a flighty young songbird? The Californians tries to be all these things (and more) and ends up being nothing more than a muddled, uneven mess.