
...
home
| art & architecture | books & cds | dance
| destinations | film | opera | television | theater | archives
|
||
Gus Van Sant both directed and wrote his early films -- Mala
Noche, Drugstore Cowboy, My Private Idaho -- and they were films that showed
originality, exuberance, and integrity: the promise of an auteur. Then there were some
less successful outings followed by a breakthrough of sorts--the hugely successful Good Will Hunting, which earned him an Oscar
nomination. Matt Damon and Ben Affleck won the Oscar for their script for Good Will
Hunting, a script full of youthful idealism which Van Sant proficiently molded into a
popular product that managed to avoid going completely overboard with sentimentality.
With Finding Forrester, Van Sant is marking time, paying the
rent. (Maybe marking time is the wrong phrase. The film runs nearly two and a half hours
with long stretches that lag badly.)
The script is a first one for Mike Rich, and while it occasionally
offers some skillfully written dialogue, the story is hackneyed. William Forrester (Sean
Connery) wrote a widely admired novel forty years ago and then became a recluse, never
leaving his old family apartment in the South Bronx, now a black ghetto. Through a highly
contrived bit of plotting, Forrester comes into contact with Jamal Wallace (Rob Brown), a
neighborhood high school kid who happens to be not only a brilliant student and aspiring
writer, but also a star-quality basketball player. Jamal manages to draw crusty old
Forrester out of his shell sufficiently to establish a mentoring relationship, Forrester
advising and guiding Jamal in his writing.
Connery delivers his usual skilled performance, but there's only so
much that he can do with a script that doesn't provide him with convincing motivation--for
his self-imposed seclusion in the first place, for coming out of his shell in the second.
A reason is mentioned for the former, but only in passing and it's not suggested with
sufficient emotional impact to support the premise. Forrester's opening up to Jamal is at
the heart of the film and, while Jamal is a pretty special character, that Forrester would
have been swayed by Jamal's notebook writings to break out of four decades of
solitude, is only tenable through an exerted suspension of disbelief.
Rob Brown, in his film debut, is poised and appealing, catching the
intelligence of Jamal and his street smarts as well. When Jamal enters an exclusive prep
school on scholarship, he is crossed by an embittered teacher (talented F. Murray Abraham
wasted in a stock role). The formula requires that it must all come to a climax in which
things will be made right on all sides. This scene involves a public reading. The weakness
of the script is underscored when, instead of having inspiring or beautiful words read
that would carry the audience into the magical quality of fine writing, Van Sant utterly
cops out, drowning out the words with music that sounds like a watered down theme from Chariots
of Fire.
Finding Forrester is a movie about two writers, but it doesn't
seem to have a clue about why writers write or about how writers write. Showing fingers on
a typewriter begs the question