The Gingerbread Man
Cast: Kenneth Branagh -- Rick Magruder
Embeth Davidtz -- Mallory Doss
Robert Downey Jr. -- Clyde Pell
Daryl Hannah -- Lois Harlan
Robert Duvall -- Dixon Doss
Tom Berenger -- Pete Randle
Directed by: Robert Altman Written by: Al Hayes (Robert Altman), based on a story by John Grisham
I saw The Gingerbread Man in an art-house theater, where it was showing alongside Ma Vie en Rose, Mrs. Dalloway, and Men With Guns. The latter two were sold out, which is why I ended up watching a movie I can only describe as a prettily-dressed, well-directed John Grisham flic. Not a surprising description, I suppose, all things considered. It's directed by Robert Altman, stars Kenneth Branagh, Embeth Davidtz, Robert Downey, Jr., Daryl Hannah, Robert Duvall, and Tom Berenger, and was based on an original story by John Grisham. Which all adds up to mean that the movie should have a pretty sheen (much like the glistening of sweat in A Time To Kill), but not much underneath.
True and false. There really is a surface to this movie that, when poked through, reveals nothing more than illogic. The shell, though, isn't pretty. The movie focuses on high-powered Savannah lawyer Rick Magruder (played with a convincing Southern accent by Branagh), who's just won a suit condemning a police officer who shot a civilian. At a party celebrating his victory, he manages to argue with his ex-wife and her boyfriend / divorce lawyer, shoot off some sparks of sexual tension with his assistant Lois Harlan (Hannah), and initiate a mating dance with caterer Mallory Doss (Davidtz).
However, by the time he's gotten to bed with Mallory, all signs already point to there being something wrong in Savannah. First off, Mallory's dad stole her car, then returned it to her house. Second, Mallory inexplicably strips to her birthday suit within two minutes of being home, and while she and Rick are arguing about whether or not she should do something about her insane, fanatical father.
Now, while I say that the surface of the movie isn't pretty, I don't mean that it isn't good. Altman injects mood into each scene, and the camera-work, while not radical, maintains interest in more subtle ways. Altman has a particular fascination with shooting scenes through windows, particularly with ever present rain trickling down them. (Courtesy of a tropical storm brewing close by, ready to strike when the plot requires.) This trick, along with others, builds upon the servicable script to create enough tension to make me know something about this neatly-tied story was wrong, even if I couldn't figure out exactly what.
Unfortunately, the twist is another one of those that sub-par writers use in order to feign complex characters and plot: it's the twist which no one could reasonably figure out. Even after it happens, you could go back and watch the movie ten more times and not see any way you could have divined that this ball was going to fly in from left field.
And it really is too bad that the plotting is so illogical, because the acting, like the directing, is pretty damn good. Branagh makes more out the run-of-the-mill Southern, Grishamesque lawyer than I've seen before. In fact, Magruder is down-right seedy at times, but the seediness only makes him more sympathetic by the end. Downey, Jr.'s also strong, his natural charisma oozing through the one-dimensional drunk, womanizing private detective. Hannah's fine in her underwritten role, and Duvall manages to force at least a little depth from a villain the audience never gets to know.
All in all, though, the movie feels too much like watching hand-drawn cardboard cut-outs run around on a two-dimensional board, chasing and shooting at each other. Too bad the board-game's so well-conjured and the actors are good enough to even make some of the stock-paper come to life time to time.
Rating: 6 / 10
More reviews available at: http://www.stanford.edu/~mrich
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