Eye of the Beholder (1/2* out of ****) Starring Ewan McGregor, Ashley Judd Directed By Stephan Elliot Destination Films, Rated R, 2000 Running Time: 1 Hour 49 Minutes
by Sean Molloy
[MEDIUM SPOILERS]
I should have known, damn it, I should have known. Ewan McGregor - Codename: "Eye" - is pointing a high-tech rifle-ly gadget at a fat, bald business-oriented American engaging in illicit sexual activities in a window across the street. We get the requisite electro-green through-the-sight view. We the audience, seeing a high tech rifle-ly gadget, of course think that Eye is going to assassinate the target, but instead, he pulls the trigger and the rifle takes twenty or so hazy, low-quality photographs, which Eye then proceeds to fax and e-mail to everyone in his target's office. All right, so thirty seconds in, I was slightly befuddled by this seemingly pointless rifle/camera, but I was still open minded... maybe there's a really good reason for it. I've got reason to believe, you see - I admire a lot of Ewan McGregor's previous work... and he's Obi Wan Ke- friggin-nobi for God's sake. And director Stephan Elliot's last movie Priscilla, Queen of the Desert was a quirky little delight. There's some genuine talent involved here.
I think at the twenty minute mark, there was still a spark of hope in my heart. Eye has been assigned to investigate the leader of his organization's son (I still have no idea what this organization was - British intelligence? National Spy Ring? Private investigation?), who is apparently stealing from his trust fund. He has received his assignment from k.d. lang, through an elaborate and expensive teleconferencing briefcase. When Eye tracks his target to an expensive- looking secluded house, he witnesses a mysterious and beautiful woman (Ashley Judd) take a knife out and proceed to stab the poor bastard. OK, that's odd, I think to myself, this could be interesting. Then she starts to cry, and through her tears exclaims "Merry Christmas, dad!" for the first time.
So begins our tale of obsession... or... something.
The rest of the movie involves Ewan McGregor's Eye character following Ashley Judd around to every corner of the United States, totally and completely obsessed by this woman from afar. Throughout his entire professional life, he has been a voyeur; so when he falls for someone, the only way he can handle it is to watch and drool through telescopes and cameras. Fine, that's a lovely premise, I suppose. But gosh darn it, if you're going to go there, you better have some sort of explanation. And that's precisely where this film fails.
This is the kind of movie that pisses me off. It's an abortion, a collection of half-formed and wasted ideas that amounts to absolutely nothing in the end. It pretends it is something that it is not - a surreal and deep psychological character study wrapped in a high-tech thriller. Here, the filmmakers have confused "surreal" and "deep" with "vaguely unclear" and "crammed full of insultingly obvious metaphors."
I never, even for an instant, had the foggiest idea why Eye would fall so in "love" with this woman who changes wigs and kills people. The movie offers only two explanations, neither of which make a lick of sense. Explanation Number One: The obnoxious presence of Eye's imaginary daughter, who was taken away from him by his wife some time ago, tells him he shouldn't leave Ms. Judd. Explanation Two, which by the end of the film has been beaten into our heads through imagery and dialog and even the title of the movie: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Whoo hoo, that helps, thanks a bunch, case closed. That's as deep as it gets, folks. There is an attempt at an explanation in the final minutes, which, instead of tying everything together, ends up being as profound as a clever sixth-grade Mad Lib.
There are secondary characters that move in and out of the picture and serve little or no purpose except to make the audience wonder what the hell the point was. My personal favorites include: the prison-matron modeled after Austin Powers' Frau Farbissina, who apparently taught Ms. Judd everything she knows about wearing wigs; Jason Priestley's awfully played Dirty Desert Vagrant #1, who tries to emulate Dennis Hopper a la Blue Velvet, but fails miserably; and the cop-who-sees-Ashley-fleeing-an-accident-scene-and- then-wants-to-pay-for-sex- but-is-shot. Each one in this sad little parade is a little more pointless than the last.
The script pays no attention to the laws of time and space. Any time one of the frequent location changes occurs, the camera zooms in on a souvenir snow globe, and minutes, weeks, or years could have passed. Bewilderingly inane stylistic decisions plague the whole affair - one character passes a glass of cognac to another in a slow-motion close-up awash in a lot of bass. Ewan McGregor at one point takes up residence in a bell tower just so he could be repeatedly awakened and deafened by the giant bell. Jason Priestly starts philosophizing about sharks, then laughs maniacally... cut to random guy with eye patch... iguana out of focus... iguana comes into focus. Wow, man.
When I found out afterward that this film was based on a novel, it came as no surprise to me. There are plenty of elements here that, if extended and fleshed out more, would have made for a decent story. And I wouldn't be surprised if I found out there was an hour and a half of footage cut from this movie lying in a landfill somewhere, or waiting in the wings for the DVD Special Director's Cut... Not that anything would ever possess me to purchase such a thing to find out what I was missing.
The last ten or so minutes featured a conversation between the Eye and the Judd that was supposed to be some sort of revealing exposition. Some guy in the back of the theater was talking on his cell phone, and this time I didn't particularly care all that much because what was happening on the screen was a steaming pile of unholy crap; the audience around me chuckled and whispered sentiments similar to what I was thinking. Someone near cell-phone-guy did eventually yell, "Shut the hell up!", but it was a lot funnier when we thought he was talking to the screen.
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