ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE (1998)
A Film Review by Ted Prigge
Copyright 1999 Ted Prigge
Director: Larry Clark
Writers: Christopher B. Landon and Stephen Chin (based on the novel by Eddie Little)
Starring: James Woods, Melanie Griffith, Vincent Kartheiser, Natasha Gregson Wagner, James Otis, Paul Hipp, Brent Briscoe, Lou Diamond Phillips
"Another Day in Paradise" is without a doubt a major improvement over Larry Clark's previous film, "Kids." But, then again, most anything could be an improvement over that annoyingly condescending and naive "message movie." One thing that did strike me as great about both of these films, though, and maybe the one major assett Clark has as a filmmaker, is his photography. It's gritty and painfully realistic. "Kids," for all the crap that it was, was at least well-shot, and it'd be easy that, if you didn't recognize some of the actors in later films (like Chloe Seveigny - the other major redeeming thing about that movie, by the way) or are stupid enough to think that a filmmaker could actually capture kids like this via cinema verite, you'd think it is actually cinema verite after all.
The opening shot of "Another Day in Paradise" is especially nice. It's grainy with low-lighting and a lack of edits that is refreshing from a lot of film, and it has a non-judgmental and observant serenity that was lacking sorely from that other movie (as it shall henceforth be named, at least in the confines of this review). The fact that it's just of one of our main characters getting up out of bed is nicer. And with a wonderful soul song playing on the soundtrack, this film was off to a good start for me. No pretentious message-making. Hopefully no silly excuse for a plot. Just looking at these people and allowing them to live, for Christ's sake. Even when this character, a guy in his late teens named Bobby (Vincent Kartheiser), put his clothes on, hid a knife in his pants, and robbed a couple vending machines, only to be attacked by a guard, Clark thankfully doesn't become judgemental.
The fight between he and the guard has a marvelous immediacy, with sloppy camera movements, and idiosyncratic touches by the characters. The guard wails on him real good, causing blood to pour from his mouth and all over, but Bobby manages to stick his knife in him, disabling him, and trying to run away with broken bones, desperately trying to hold onto the bag filled with quarters. The opening of that other movie, though is like this: the lead guy convinces a girl to sleep with him, but it has such a forced, staged, and worst of all, condescending feel that it's disengaging. There, Clark was trying to force something down the audience's throat, trying to stir waves instead of being true to his characters. Here, it's as if he learned something. We know what Bobby's doing is wrong, but it's not played out that way. This is, after all, how Bobby survives in life.
So far, so good, right? With or without the ridiculously condescending title (Funny. It wouldn't be like that for any other director, would it?), I was expecting a film that was as good as these opening moments. But soon a plot is introduced, and the potentiality of expanding on the characters and deepening them is abandoned for a hackney plot about low-level thieving, that, I think, is supposed to be a testament to how parents' behavior passes on to their children. A couple more characters are introduced: Rosie (Natasha Gregson Wagner), Bobby's coke-snorting girlfriend; and Uncle Mel (James Woods), a middle-aged thief/drug addict who at first heals Bobby's wounds, then takes him under his wing for a series of planned low-level robberies and drug deals. Bobby quickly agrees, and they all hop into a car with Mel's long-time girlfriend, Sid (Melanie Griffith). They party a bit. Then they rob a drug store, planning to sell the dope to others. Things go awry. As soon as they feel like a close-knit family, they all fall apart. Ho hum. Clark's opening of weird realism is instead traded in for a cliche-ridden plot, and characters who are either one-dimensional or never even bothered with.
For instance, the relationship between Mel and Sid is somewhat interesting, with a boring beginning and later hints of a pot boiling over, but there's very little interest in the relationship of Bobby and Rosie. In fact, only one scene between them is at all very good, and that's their final one, a scene that seems so improvisational that it's like one huge breath of air. Everything is pretty much saved for the end, with Sid finally gaining some complexity, as minute as it is, but with Bobby switching from admiration for Mel to contempt. But none of this feels real, at least not as real as Clark is capable of showing. His direction is right, full of daring realism, but the screenplay nearly ignores the human element, and it plays like a freakish collaboration between neo-realism and cliched robbers story, like Elmore Leonard without the wit or insight. Even Clark makes a few mistakes: a would-be harrowing shootout in a motel (featuring Brent Briscoe, who's all about shootouts this year, what with "A Simple Plan") feels fake and totally un-Clark-like (I can't believe he included such an audience-pleasing shot of Griffith with a shotgun underneath a bed, leveling an assailant a la Albert Finney in "Miller's Crossing").
The soul soundtrack is a nice touch, though: it's like it's filling in the emotions of the characters, and the pain that they are afraid to show (would work better if the characters were more complex to begin with). Only in one instance does the music feel wrong: in a later scene of such emotional intensity, what is best needed is just the sounds of human pain and the ambiance of the room. No sad music. Just crying and despearate pleading. And it's especially sad because it could have been the one scene that really deepens the character and shows his true emotions (the fact that it's ruined by something that is so often one of the best aspects of the movie is ironic, eh?).
The acting, for the most part, is mediocre, especially Kartheiser as the one-note Bobby, who's only endearing in one section of the film, and Wagner, who once again, is annoying enough to show that she's no Natalie Wood. Or even a Robert Wagner, for that matter. Griffith, though, is actually good. Every now and then the woman pulls off a performance which shows off the good aspects of her talent (remember, we all liked her in "Working Girl," didn't we?), and maybe with at least acceptable turns in "Celebrity" and "Lolita," she may have a great performance in her. And Lou Diamond Philips has a funny, uncredited role as a flamboyantly gay criminal mastermind.
But if anyone makes this movie even somewhat good, it's James Woods, who infuses the film with so much energy and vitality that he almost single-handedly makes it work by sheer force of will. Although hampered with several ridiculously cliched lines, he manages to make them as unpainful to listen to as possible, and brings depth to his character that the screenplay doesn't manage to add. Beaten down by life but furiously trying to find the holy grail of criminals, the last big score, he's the symbol of down by law tragedy. Even his more over-the-top moments seem genuine. Brilliant guy, that Woods. There were other things I admired, as well. I liked some of the more strange and quirky foibles and moments it had, like how Rosie does coke because she's afraid of needles; how the gun dealer was a seriously good Christian, who preached the word of god as he sold his weapons; and the excitement with which Woods enters every single heist that you just know he'll never make it big. It's the criminal tragedy...almost.
MY RATING (out of 4): **1/2
Homepage at: http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Hills/8335/
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