WHAT DREAMS MAY COME
A movie review by Joe Barlow
(c) Copyright 1998
STARRING: Robin Williams, Cuba Gooding Jr., Max von Sydow,
Annabella Sciora
DIRECTOR: Vincent Ward
WRITER: Ron Bass (based on the book by Richard Matheson)
RATED: PG-13 (for adult language and potentially disturbing
visuals)
YEAR: 1998
SEEN AT: Park Place 16, Morrisville NC
RATING: **** (out of a possible *****)
In some respects, "What Dreams May Come" reminds me of Richard Bach's "Johnathan Livingston Seagull," a book which sparked my imagination with an intensity that few other works of art have ever equaled. It was a novel that challenged the way I approached the very concepts of religion and spirituality. Although I didn't agree with every aspect of the story (and still don't, incidentally), the sheer beauty of its presentation was more than enough to make up for its shortcomings; when I finished reading it, I found myself deeply moved by both its power and message. Walking out of an opening-day screening of "What Dreams May Come," I felt a similar sense of awe... even though, once again, I didn't agree with everything that was said.
A brief collection of scenes, displayed during the film's opening credits, sets the plot in motion. Chris Nielsen (Robin Williams) and his wife Annie (Annabella Sciora) meet while on vacation in Europe; soon, they fall in love and marry. They eventaully have two children, but Fate has a nasty shock in store: both kids are killed in a car accident while in their teens. Annie, who asked the housekeeper to drive the kids to school that day, blames herself for their deaths, figuring that things may have turned out differently if she'd been behind the wheel. Years pass, and the couple's emotional wounds slowly heal. Then one day, Chris offers to run an errand for Annie; while doing so, he is killed in another car accident.
Chris's soul, after coming to terms with his death, makes the journey up to Heaven. He finds a place of such astonishing beauty that I will not even attempt to describe it with words; suffice it to say that the film's visuals are among the most awe-inspiring ever captured on celluloid. Heaven, it seems, is somewhat like the Holodeck from "Star Trek": it can be completely customized, based on the wishes of its occupant. Everyone's Heaven is different: because Chris was such a fan of art in life, he chooses to live in a world comprised of painted landscapes, like those Annie used to create. Albert (Cuba Gooding Jr.), Chris's spirit guide and friend, teaches him to manipulate his environment, and in time Chris is even reunited with his children. The only thing missing from his world is Annie, who he wistfully watches from afar.
But Annie, nearly comatose with grief after losing her entire family, decides that she no longer has any reason to live; soon after Chris's death, she takes her own life. Chris assumes that his wife will now join him in eternal paradise, but it is not to be: suicide victims are forever barred from the rewards of the afterlife, and he can only watch helplessly as Annie is sent to Hell. Despite the wonders of Heaven and the reunion with his children, Chris refuses to spend eternity without his soulmate, and decides to gamble his own soul in a desperate attempt to save her.
To say that Robin Williams is excellent in his role would be redundant, as the man is incapable of being anything less; also, Cuba Gooding Jr. is the very picture of warmth and patience as the understanding spirit who helps Chris make the awkward adjustment from life into death. Best of all may be Annabella Sciora's portrayl of Annie: it's she who undergoes the greatest number of emotional changes over the course of the story, yet she always remains a fascinating (if occasionally unsympathetic) character. But Max von Sydow, who plays a helpful "soul mercenary" named The Tracker, is significantly less interesting: he adds little to the story except some vaugely philosophical dialogue that doesn't really go anywhere.
The truth is, the characters in this film take a back seat to the experience of just *watching* the thing; in that regard, I was reminded of "Brazil" and "2001: A Space Odyssey." The movie is far from perfect, and the unneccessarily "cute" final scene does much to undermine the previous fifteen minutes of the story, all so the filmmakers' can make the audience go "Aww." The biggest problem, however, is the simple fact that we don't see enough of our heroes' "lives" after they die; instead, the film presents us with so many tedious flashbacks that the story screeches to a halt nearly every time one appears on the screen. In addition, the cloying score from composer Michael Kamen actually crosses that fine line which separates sentimentality from self-indulgence, and we're forced to listen to him throttle the audience's emotions with a sweeping arrangement of strings that never lets you forget that you're supposed to be sobbing into your popcorn. It's even worse than the score for "Volcano," a feat I thought was impossible.
But none of that really matters. "What Dreams May Come" is so strikingly original that it's worthy of respect and serious analysis, despite the occasional flaw. There's an undeniable grandeur to the production, an epic quality that raises the film from mere cinema into a sensory odyssey. Director Vincent Ward had no interest in making a timid film, and indeed he hasn't; for that reason, I'm willing to give the story some slack. I highly recommend that you see this movie with several of your closest friends. Afterwards, go get a cup of coffee and discuss what you just saw. I promise, it'll keep you talking for the rest of the evening... and maybe the whole week.
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