HOPE FLOATS
A movie review by Joe Barlow
(c) Copyright 1998
STARRING: Sandra Bullock, Harry Connick Jr., Gena Rowlands,
Mae Whitman
DIRECTOR: Forest Whitaker
WRITER: Steven Rogers
RATED/YEAR: PG-13/1998
RATING: * (out of a possible *****)
Not long ago I read a fascinating book on Jack the Ripper, a subject which has always intrigued me: the images of dark London streets, draped in the glow of gaslights and a damp blanket of fog, embody a certain romance for me. But the thing that struck me most about this particular volume was the cold, blunt way in which it described the ferociousness of the killer, with statements like "The victim was stabbed fifty-three times, with twelve of the wounds being fatal in and of themselves." The horrific image this conjures up in my mind, of a Victorian woman desperately trying to free herself while knowing she's going to die, actually gave me nightmares when I began researching the subject for a report several years ago.
"Hope Floats," the new film starring Sandra Bullock, is similar to Saucy Jack's victims in one respect: it knows it's dying, but continues to struggle. As screenwriter Steven Rogers stabs his script with the most cliched dialogue and situations I've seen all year, the story still valiantly attempts to break free. Unfortunately, like the Ripper's victims, we know it will never escape: any number of its wounds are also fatal in and of themselves.
In our opening scene, we meet the lovely Birdee (Bullock), a former Texas beauty queen who's been invited onto a Jerry Springer-type talk show by her best friend, Connie (Rosanna Arquette). The sweet but naive Birdee thinks she's there to get a free makeover, but Connie just wants to reveal that she (Connie) has been having an affair with Birdee's husband, Bill. Zoom in on Birdee's shocked and hurt expression.
Humiliated and angry, Birdee and her daughter Bernice promptly move back in with Birdee's mom, Ramona (Gina Rowlands). Birdee must now come to terms with being back in the same sleepy town in which she grew up, a place she's been trying to put behind her for years. Along the way, if we're to believe the script, she rediscovers herself, puts the past behind her, and quickly learns to love again.
The film wastes no time: mere moments after she returns home, Birdee meets Justin Matisse (Harry Connick Jr.), a local handyman. Thanks to the Laws of Hollywood Cliches, we know that he'll become the new love interest in her life because (1) he's attractive, (2) Bernice hates him, and (3) he's pretty much the only guy in the entire town. I could forgive all of the above if only the two of them had any screen chemistry together; sadly, there's nothing there. Bullock and Connick have both done fine work in other films ("Speed" and "While You Were Sleeping" for Bullock, "Memphis Belle" for Connick), but this isn't a great pairing. One of the reasons I thought "Titanic" worked so well was because I believed the passion that DiCaprio and Winslet had together; in "Hope Floats," our two romantic leads seem like just what they are: two actors reciting memorized dialogue to each other. Affection never really touches either character's eyes, and Connick in particular seems to be thinking about other things most of the time.
After a bit, a ridiculous subplot develops involving Bernice's torment at the hands of "Big Delores," the school bully. (We know Delores is evil, because she's not beautiful.) This subplot is not so much resolved as forgotten: one moment Bernice is scared for her life... then suddenly, all is well and Delores is never mentioned again. This type of unfocused quality is typical of the film's construction. What happened to Justin while he was in California? What's the fate of Travis (Cameron Finley), the little boy that Ramona is watching while his mother (Birdee's unseen sister) is out of state? Does Birdee's father, who recently had a stroke, ever recover? We don't find out. The run-of-the-mill dialogue adds no surprises or insight.
The film is so formulatic that the plot becomes little more than a paint-by-numbers exercise. It's the sort of movie where, after seeing the first scene, you can predict the rest of the story without even bothering to watch it. Each scene sets up the next so obviously that actually watching it seems redundant. Just like this paragraph.
"Hope Floats" also hits upon one of my big pet-peeves: beautiful actresses playing characters who think they're ugly. The lovely Janeane Girafalo began this unfortunate trend in "The Truth About Cats and Dogs"; "Hope Floats" takes things one step further with Birdee's belief that she's ugly and worthless. Ugly... despite the fact that Sandra Bullock is beautiful. Despite the fact that all the other women in the story envy Birdee's good looks. Despite the fact that the film tells us quite clearly that Birdee was the most beautiful girl in school, even winning the local beauty padget three years in a row. Despite the fact that all the women in town marvel at how Birdee hasn't aged since high school (and is therefore still beautiful).
One bright spot in the film is the performance by young Mae Whitman, who plays Birdee's daughter. She's absolutely flawless: awkward in her new surroundings, angry at her mother, hurt by her father's behavior, aloof from her new schoolmates, Whitman plays the role like her salvation depends upon it. (The scene in which Bernice tries to get her father to take her away with him is one of the most heartbreaking performances I've ever seen from a child actor.) Keep an eye on young Ms. Whitman: she may very well turn out to be the next Christina Ricci.
There's little point of seeing this film, though. "Hope Floats" is by-the-book screenwriting, created strictly for the lowest common denominator, and I can't imagine anyone even remotely film-savvy enjoying it. The biggest flaw: in a story that's so clearly character-centric, we never really get to know any of these people. Justin is just as big a mystery to us at the film's conclusion as he is at the outset, the young Travis seems to have no purpose in the story other than failed attempts at comic relief, and Ramona is the kind of mother we all love to hate. The film commits drama's worst sin: it remains boring right up to the final shot, in which all the characters join hands and walk into the house, while holiday fireworks cheerfully explode overhead. Puh-lease.
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