Conflitto di interessi

With house architecture, gingerbread is the decorative, fluffy lace that is put on a Victorian house. Most Victorian masses are really ugly, clumsy, incompetent -- and that's why gingerbread was developed. The reason behind all this was the rise of the carpenter-designer. Victorian architecture is a product of the industrial age. Everyone wanted such a house, and with few skilled architects around, some blunt conventions were developed that any craftsman could use. And then dress up the horrendous result with gingerbread.

So it is with this film. The key problem here is that it has no master designer. The script was rather developed on the spot in Altman's famous `let's improvise' method by the rude mechanicals involved.

This film was made for one reason: Branagh had a Clinton impression he didn't want to waste. And at least his contribution is all built around his singular idea of the man, using the blunt conventions of the `thriller.' Altman is just along for the ride.

In comments on Branagh's Shakespeare (and the Shakespeare of others), I've noted the pitfalls of putting an actor in charge. Actors are very late in the dramatic food chain, and just cannot understand bigger picture dynamics. Branagh himself has escaped these limitations (when he has) only because he is adept with Shakespearian conventions. (His acting always is remarkable, but that's another issue.)

See this film. It really helps to put perspective on the very interesting adventure of Branagh's trying to grow Shakespeare from the actor's eye. And it helps one understand why his `Love's Labor's Lost' is as it is.

I expected more of Kenneth Branagh. It is a decent movie, on the low side of watchable. I prefer my suspense movies not to be predictable from the outset, which this was! We saw it for two reasons--Branagh and John Grisham. My final opinion was that Grisham wanted to try his hand at writing a screenplay, and he had the clout to get it produced. I hope his next screenplay will benefit from his first errors, as his subsequent novels have gotten better as his experience as an author grows.

It takes real talent to make a real lemon, and Robert Altman, a most talented director, has succeeded brilliantly here. He made things difficult for himself miscasting Kenneth Branagh as a boozy Savannah lawyer but the attempt to replicate the feel of a town in the grip of a hurricane really finishes things off. The last 20 minutes in the rain is truly appalling, with the audience reduced to guessing about what is going on. The lighting is awful throughout, the more so that it was done on purpose. Maybe we were supposed to experience the confusion of the lead character as he stumbled towards an answer but this does not make for entertainment. In this film noir genre to achieve tension at crucial moments the audience must know just a little more than the protagonist, not a lot less.

The story, though completely derivative, is actually quite tight, well plotted, and has a convincing resolution, but the lack of light and general confusion make it difficult to follow. Anyway, an absolute shocker, gross waste of talent and apparently a box office flop (there's some justice). Altman has since put this turkey behind him with the luminous Gosford Park but I am left wondering why on earth he did it.

You got it, even though this movie is from director Robert Altman, he has managed to produce a very average thriller here, which is raised a few bars up by the cast, which takes the movie with ease. Robert Duvall is underused (he only has three or four lines of dialogue), and Robert Downey Jr. performs his usual "wisecracker" role. The treat here is seeing Kenneth Branagh on one of his non-Shakespeare incursions and stepping into the skin of a workaholic, stressed-out, mundane lawyer which bumps into a woman that will change his way of life. Altogether it is rather watchable, but doesn't bring anything new to the genre, and one thinks if the names involved aren't just a way to promote such a standard script. Anyway, it has some fun in it, despite the clichés.

Robert Altman shouldn't make a movie like this, but the fact that he did- and that it turns out to be a reasonably good and tightly-wound thriller in that paperback-tradition of Grisham thrillers- shows a versatility that is commendable. In the Gingerbread Man he actually has to work with something that, unfortunately, he isn't always very successful at, or at least it's not the first thing on his checklist as director: plot. There's one of those big, juicy almost pot-boiler plots where a sleazy lawyer gets caught up with a desperate low-class woman and then a nefarious figure whom the woman is related with enters their lives in the most staggering ways, twists and plot ensues, yada yada. And it's surprising that Altman would really want to take on one of these "I saw that coming from back there!" endings, or just a such a semi-conventional thriller.

But it's a surprise that pays off because, oddly enough, Altman is able to catch some of that very fine behavior, or rather is able to unintentionally coax it out of a very well-cast ensemble, of a small-town Georgian environment. The film drips with atmosphere (if not total superlative craftsmanship, sometimes it's good and sometimes just decent for Altman), as Savannah is possibly going to be hit by a big hurricane and the swamp and marshes and rain keep things soaked and muggy and humid. So the atmosphere is really potent, but so are performances from (sometimes) hysterical Kenneth Branaugh, Embeth Davitz as the 'woman' who lawyer Branaugh gets caught up with, and Robert Downey Jr (when is he *not* good?) as the private detective in Branaugh's employ. Did I neglect Robert Duvall, who in just five minutes of screen time makes such an indelible impression to hang the bad-vibes of the picture on?

As said, some of the plot is a little weak, or just kind of standard (lawyer is divorced, bitter custody battle looms, innocent and goofy kids), but at the same time I think Altman saw something captivating in the material, something darker than some of the other Grisham works that has this standing out somehow. If it's not entirely masterful, it still works on its limited terms as a what-will-happen-next mystery-Southern-noir.