City of Angels (1998)
My wife said it best as we left the theater, It was uneven.
What's charming about the film are its engaging takes on life -- city, human, celestial. When we first look upon the angels Seth (Nicolas Cage) and Cassiel (Andre Braugher) sitting atop superhighway signs, we know the narrative will be pleasantly slanted and watchable. Their wings and halos replaced by black overcoats, these messengers from God patrol streets, construction sites, and especially libraries. It is in the library that Seth and mortal Dr. Maggie Rice (Meg Ryan) meet in two emotional scenes, one beginning their relationship and the other determining if it will end.
I found the angels' ability to read humans' thoughts not so much original as fascinating. As the camera moves among the cars in a traffic jam or among carrels in the library, we are permitted to mind-surf, catching glimpses of what life is like in this very human, "naked city." It is gritty yet beautiful, from the scenes in the hospital in which Meg tries to prolong life, to the scenes in which the angels – seen only by us and by those they choose – give humans small embraces of protection. John Seale's cinematography paints Los Angeles in colors Maxfield Parrish would use: glowing and clean; even shots of seaminess are uncluttered and objectified.
The major roles are indeed well-acted. Cage, his hair meticulously in place, even his eyebrows handsomely trimmed, casts his big, compassionate eyes upon human suffering. Unlike most of his fellow celestials (who at times look alarmingly remote and agent-like), Seth pursues a human. (Isn't it a breach of the ethics of invisibility to watch a woman as she bathes, or kisses her boyfriend?) On her part, Meg Ryan is appropriately tentative in dealing with Seth. Where another might think him an odd preacher or even a stalker, Maggie eventually realizes his gentleness, and soon harbors amorous thoughts that Seth intercepts. Her performance is most riveting when she discovers Seth's corporeal form is bloodless; her mix of fear, bafflement and anger alerts us to the crux of her emotional predicament.
The minor roles in this picture function like confidants in a good play, enabling the leading roles to succeed. Dennis Franz does a most convincing job as Nathaniel Messinger, a gluttonous, life-loving patient of Maggie's. It's not far-fetched that Franz will get a nod as Best Supporting Actor nominee. One of the hard-to-believe sequences has Nathaniel leaving the hospital to chow down at a diner (while Seth, who has manifested himself to another mortal, eats nothing). But Nathaniel's gusto, along with Maggie's mutual feelings, causes Seth to take a fall into the grimy pleasures of humanity. In his role as Cassiel, Andre Braugher (say it ain't so, Andre, that you're leaving Homicide!) is underused. Further, some of his banter with Seth is not transparent enough.
Just as Braugher does a masterful job with average lines, Cage admirably juggles a handful of clichés. Are we to believe that Seth, formerly an immortal who for ages has observed humans, is not cagey enough to avoid hitch-hiking, in the rain, outside a nude-dancing palace, and then benevolently greeting a carload of scumbags who mug him? Would he really act so child-like at the strong scent from a bottle of perfume? And possibly the most unforgivable piece of writing has Seth making no direct communication with his Maker. It is stated in the film that "No one believes in us (angels) anymore"; a big problem is that the movie contradicts this claim by further popularizing all things angel. What we wind up with is another New-Agey, secular treatment of religious themes.
Let me end by commending the sequence in which Seth falls to earthiness. Director Silberling's black-and-white montage is dramatically brilliant, evoking the precious and intimate side of humanity remembered by the deceased characters in Our Town. I also liked that the ending of City of Angels would not please followers of Disney. I only wish the ending sustained the emotional power of what comes just before it. And I'm an easier critic than my wife.
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