I didn’t make it halfway through this
tedious, cryptic,
dystopian, dyspeptic romance. The Michael
Winterbottom films I have been disappointed in (Butterfly Kiss, Wonderland,
this one) now outnumber the ones that
have impressed me (The Claim, 24 Hour
Party
People). Samantha Morton is her
usual opaque, featureless self, some kind of worker drone in some kind
of Brave New World but less happy.
Tim Robbins is… oh, who cares? Not
that I could figure it out – the movie’s
got its own world with its own vocabulary (English with various foreign
words
thrown in), and it doesn’t make it easy for you to catch on (I'd have
really been in trouble if I didn't understand French and Spanish). I mean, I like a movie that makes you work as
much as – actually, more than – the next guy, but it’s got to promise
me some
kind of pay-off for the work, and Code 46
is so muffled, visually,
aurally, and emotionally, that I couldn’t see any reason to do the work.
The simplest way I can boil this down for you
is: Do you
like Terry Gilliam movies? If yes, you
will probably like The Brothers Grimm. If
no, you probably won’t.
Gilliam’s idiosyncratic style is restrained
but fully
evident here, and while I enjoyed it, I know that some people don’t. Visually, The
Brothers Grimm is
enchanting, and Matt Damon and Heath Ledger as the titular brothers are
entertaining. Damon’s Will is the slick
salesman, talking his way into and out of hairy situations; Ledger’s
Jake is
the quiet bookworm who’s sometimes so entranced by stories that he
can’t
physically contain his excitement, breaking into a gawky, endearing
dance.
I could have done without some of the other
performances –
Peter Stormare is so over the top as the oily torturer Cavaldi that he
couldn’t
see the top with a telescope, and Jonathan Pryce’s villainous
Delatombe, a
Napoleon wannabe, is just uncalled for – he’s pompous, evil (the bit
with the
kitten is unforgivable), and preposterously accented.
I had read that Damon and Gilliam wanted the
odious Samantha Morton for the role of Angelika, a fiercely
independent, strong
woman and something of a love interest for both brothers, but Bob and
Harvey
Weinstein nixed her on the basis that “Matt Damon wouldn’t fuck her.” Now, normally I would be outraged that a
normal-looking actress would be rejected because she was “too fat” or
not
supermodel-gorgeous and therefore not someone Matt Damon would fuck –
but that
was before I was once again subjected to Morton’s peculiar non-charms
(see previous review). So my verdict
instead is: wrong (wrong in so many ways) reasons,
right decision. Lena Headey is quite
good in the role, which calls for a fierce physicality that Morton
could never provide.
Gilliam weaves fairytales into the story but
ultimately
comes up with his own fable – not one that jells 100%, but with a
certain flair. It could have been richer,
but Damon and
Ledger make an appealing pair and, as one reviewer said, Gilliam lite
is better
than no Gilliam at all.
Surprisingly sweet-natured yet also very
funny. Steve Carell is okay as the titular
virgin,
the kind of guy who adores his action figures but leaves them encased
in
plastic (note subtle symbolism) because they lose their value as soon
as you
take them out of the box, but the movie really belongs to the
supporting cast,
especially Paul Rudd and Seth Rogen as two of Carell’s coworkers. They’ve got better chemistry than Carell and
his love interest, Catherine Keener.
Speaking of Keener, what a relief it is to see the hero in a
male-oriented movie fall for an adult, intelligent, mature woman
instead of
some 20-something bimbo – not that Carell doesn’t give it a shot with a
few
bimbos, but he holds out for Keener.
Nothing will prepare you for the truly wacky ending.
Back to homepage
Reviews A to F
Reviews G to L
Reviews M to R
Reviews S to Z
Search