Crazy On You

originally published June 20, 2007

At the risk of universal collapse, this week’s column includes NO documentaries. Instead, LPS takes a look at three independent films with protagonists who have such loose screws, said screws screw up the lives of those around them.

The King (R) 2005.

Transvestite, communist revolutionary, priest, dogfighter: there isn’t a role Gael García Bernal won’t take on. And when he does it, he does it oh so well. Unfortunately, Bernal’s avarice and sex appeal can’t save this indie flop.

In James Marsh’s The King, a young Naval officer finishes his tour of duty and embarks on a personal mission. The son of a prostitute, Elvis Valderez (Bernal, Amores Perros) sets out to find his estranged father, a man known to him only by name: David Sandow. He drives to a community church in Corpus Christi, TX, where David (William Hurt), now a pastor, preaches every Sunday.

Sandow is less than receptive to Elvis’ revelation, having shoved his past under the rug for many years. David’s rejection doesn’t deter Elvis, though. Falling for his 16-year-old half-sister Malerie (Pell James), Elvis seduces the young girl and slithers into the Sandow family’s life. The two carry out a steamy, illicit affair until Malerie’s upright and earnest older brother, Paul (Paul Dano, Little Miss Sunshine), confronts Elvis. It’s all downhill from there.

Despite Bernal’s keen performance, Elvis’ dimensionless character fails to reveal any motive for his malicious behavior, besides the obvious “fatherless upbringing.” He’s an enigmatic bastard (pun intended) who has no qualms offing people who get in his way. That’s about as deep as Marsh takes us into his protagonist’s psyche, and Elvis is whittled-down into a heartless paper doll.

The King fumbles around the question of whether or not anyone can get right with God, whether God listens, or some similar socio-spiritual quandary. The story fails to give a clear answer, or any answer for that matter, and the result is a self-indulgent, senseless tragedy, and a very dry, slow-moving one at that.

D-

Mrs. Harris (R) 2006.

She’s come undone. An HBO original film, Mrs. Harris is based on the eccentric Jean Harris (Annette Bening), who was accused of murdering her boyfriend, the author of the bestselling Scarsdale Diet, Dr. Herman Tarnower (Ben Kingsley). Harris claimed the murder was a result of her botched suicide, but the State of California disagreed.

Mrs. Harris opens with Jean’s side of the story in flashback. A failed attempt to reconcile with Herman sends Jean into a suicidal tailspin. In a desperate cry for help, she drives five hours to his home and attempts to shoot herself in the bedroom. When Herman intervenes, Jean's gun misfires, fatally wounding the doctor. From there, the film returns to the present-day trial, moving back and forth between witness testimony and scenes from Tarnower’s and Harris’ rather loveless courtship.

For a film about a homicide, Mrs. Harris is rather light-hearted and quirky.

The disastrous chemistry is captured perfectly by two veteran performers. Bening’s portrayal of the neurotic, insecure school teacher is uncanny (earning her both Emmy and Golden Globe nods), and Kingsley’s execution of the self-centered, womanizing egomaniac is as convincing as his Gandhi (how’s that for versatility?). Together, they create an on-screen chemistry that comically captures the codependency that kept the couple’s ailing relationship afloat for years. Fun fact: Ellen Burstyn was nominated for an Emmy for her role as one of Tanower’s ex-lovers, although she’s only onscreen for 11 seconds. Kudos, Ellen.

B

Sorry, Haters (NR) 2006.

A Syrian chemist working as NYC cabbie to support his sister-in-law and nephew, Ashade (Abdel Kechiche) is trying to get his Canadian-citizen brother out of U.S. Government custody. He shares his story with a late-night fare, a high-strung American producer whose success includes reality series "Sorry, Haters." The producer, Phoebe (Robin Wright Penn), slowly lures Ashade “under her wing” with promises of legal aid and amnesty. Too late, he realizes Phoebe is using him for sinister (but unclear) intentions, and the innocent cabbie is taken for a wild and deadly ride.

Director and writer Jeff Stanzler (Love Gets You Twisted) is overambitious with his latest dramatic endeavor. Sorry, Haters begins with an interesting concept (a Syrian cab driver seeking help from a self-centered, depressed television producer), but it forces the audience to swallow too many social issues at once: racism, paranoia, terrorism and depression. Things spiral downward so quickly, without any remnant of redemption, that the result is an oversimplified shock film, not far from the likes of Flowers In the Attic.

Criticism made, the film is 83 minutes of entertainment, Wright Penn’s performance is excellent, and the ending is disturbing and hilarious.

C-

Robin Geddie