I’m not going to beat around the bush here. THIRD PERSON is the worst film I’ve seen so far this year. Sure, it’s easy to dump on a lame comedy like TAMMY but Oscar-winning writer/director Paul Haggis’ new drama aims so high so has that much farther to fall. Best Picture Oscar notwithstanding, I’ve never met another film lover who has much good to say about Haggis‘ CRASH. It’s hard to think of a more ham-handed piece of popular filmmaking in memory that scored such big prizes (at least until 12 YEARS A SLAVE). In THIRD PERSON Haggis copies the CRASH template by setting up three seemingly random episodes with three seemingly random sets of characters, some of whom eventually become intertwined with one another during a two-day period. The resulting film is overlong, self-indulgent and thoroughly uninteresting.
Liam Neeson plays Michael, an unhappy Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist staying in a luxurious Paris hotel, failing in his attempt to bang out a book worthy of his earlier successes. Also at the hotel, in a separate room, is Anna (Olivia Wilde), the mistress and protégé Michael had left his wife Elaine (Kim Basinger) for a couple of years earlier. Michael and Anna play often-cruel, passive-aggressive games when they’re not criticizing each other’s writing. Her dark secret involving a mysterious older man may spark the motivation he’s looking for.
Meanwhile in Italy, we first meet shady American businessman, Scott (Adrien Brody) frustrated that the barkeep at a tavern called ‘The Americano’ doesn’t speak English (by his reasoning, all waiters at U.S. Italian restaurants should speak Italian). There he meets seductive gypsy Monika (Moran Atias) who quickly confides that she’s about to pay $5,000 to a smuggler to be reunited with a daughter she hasn’t seen in two years. When the money’s conveniently lost, Scott decides to help, especially since he has his own daughter that age (or does he?). Though leery of being conned, Scott joins Monika’s dangerous and costly quest that leads to the darker neighborhoods of Rome.
Finally in New York City, Mila Kunis plays Julia, a stressed-out former soap star who is attempting to regain custody of her son Jesse (Oliver Crouch) after the boy almost died in her care. He is now with his father Rick (James Franco), a pretentious abstract artist and his girlfriend played by French supermodel Loan Chabanol (there are no homely people in this movie). Julia is desperately trying to prove her stability by taking a job as a hotel maid but keeps aggravating her lawyer Theresa (Mario Bello) by missing family court dates.
Almost from the start, THIRD PERSON becomes preoccupied with its own importance. At least some of the characters in CRASH were working class folk we could relate to, but THIRD PERSON is the soap opera world of authors, painters, and actors and Haggis seems to think just putting Paris and Rome in a movie will give it the air of inevitable romance. Dario Marianelli’s tinkly overburdened score swells up to make it appear as if we’re being profoundly touched but THIRD PERSON comes off as trying way too hard, and thus it never gets under your skin or into your heart. As Haggis shuffles through these characters’ boring lives, he leaves more questions than answers. Why would Scott, who seems to hate Italy, risk so much to help Monika, who’s a clichéd Italian spitfire? Why does everyone in the bar think Monika’s abandoned purse contains a bomb? Why does Michael keep calling his ex-wife for feedback on his writing and how did he ever win a Pulitzer when what we see of his work is so awful (“White. The color of trust.”)? And most oddly, why is Julia, whose tale is unfolding in New York, suddenly cleaning Michael’s Parisian suite? This last point initially seems like the ultimate continuity screw-up but Haggis, in a lame attempt to be mystical, throws in an interpretive ‘out’ at the end with a symbolic wrap-up that doesn’t make it any less a cheat. At 137 minutes, THIRD PERSON is too long. Not just long, but long about getting to its points, to its connections, because it has to set up all these many characters and their situations first before showing how they connect. By halfway, one can see it’s a strange, rambling wreck of a movie. This wouldn’t be so bad if THIRD PERSON was clever or entertaining or at least so-bad-it’s-good. But it’s not. It’s deadly dull.
The acting in THIRD PERSON is mostly top-notch, but when you cast your film with Oscar winners and A-listers, that’ll happen. While it’s nice to see Liam Neeson in a role that doesn’t require neck-breaking ‘special skills’, he’s completely charmless, spending much of his time growling at his laptop and slamming it shut in frustration. Brody gives the grouchy Scott a nicely troubled edge and Kim Basinger shines in a role that seems like it was trimmed down to a couple of scenes. Not faring well is Mila Kunis, who lacks the acting chops needed to generate much sympathy. She comes off as a crybaby mess who makes poor decisions and she gets some of the film’s worst dialog (“Why do you get to play God?!?” she tearfully asks a bored Franco). Olivia Wilde is so beautiful that you almost don’t expect a great performance but she transcends the lousy script and effortlessly pulls off the film’s only complex and interesting character (though the icky twist Haggis gives her near the end does not work and I wish he hadn’t gone there). In the film’s best scene, and the only moment when THIRD PERSON comes alive, Wilde’s Anna is trapped in the hotel’s hallway completely nude, frantically racing up floors to get back to her room. Only because of the playful way Wilde plays this scene, and because she looks so great performing it naked, THIRD PERSON earns a single star.
1 of 5 Stars
THIRD PERSON opens in St. Louis Friday, July 11th exclusively at The Tivoli Theater
