Movie Review – CinemAbility: The Art of Inclusion

Now Available 

From the saintly, asexual disabled women who get rewarded with a medical cure by the end of the movie (as in City Lights) to the vengeful, recently disabled, villainous men who want to take their anger out on the world (like Dennis Hopper's cop turned bus bomber in Speed), disability stereotypes have become ingrained in our culture throughout film history.

And while that doesn't of course prevent any of the films mentioned from being classics in their own right, when these and other stereotypes – whether coded or more overt – are returned to again and again on the big or small screen, the idea that they're true gets reinforced in people's minds, even if the viewer isn't fully aware of it.

A subject close to my heart, not only as a disabled woman but also as a film major who intended to make it my thesis in graduate school, in this eye-opening documentary (which should be mandatory viewing for those pursuing a degree in Media Studies), director Jenni Gold gives a fascinating overview of the subject of disability onscreen.

Chronicling the evolution of disabled character driven storytelling over roughly 120 years of cinema (and later, television), we discover how much has changed as well as how much remains the same. Additionally, Gold looks at the role that representation plays in legislation as – with the increase of more positive and diverse portrayals post-Vietnam – the Americans With Disabilities Act was finally signed into law by President Bush in 1990.

Reminiscent of a terrific small screen documentary that wouldn't be out of place on TCM, given not only its subject matter but also its slightly retro approach, CinemAbility: The Art of Inclusion is hosted and narrated by one of the film's producers, Jane Seymour and features interviews with a number of famous faces such as Geena Davis, Ben Affleck, Jamie Foxx, and William H. Macy.

Boasting a fascinating selection of film clips and some great analysis by Martin F. Norden, the author of a book I'd highly recommend on the subject (The Cinema of Isolation: A History of Physical Disability in the Movies), the Emmy winning Gold covers a lot of ground, especially in CinemAbility's powerful look at pre-World War II cinema.

From Thomas Edison's The Fake Beggar (which Eddie Murphy paid homage to in Trading Places) and Tod Browning's ouevre from his campy Lon Chaney collaborations to Freaks as well as the complex Golden Rule coded metaphorical morality of Frankenstein up through The Wizard of Oz, there's a lot to process.

And much like the strides made in portrayals post Vietnam, we received what is perhaps our earliest fully three-dimensional disabled character in the form of a WWII vet (played by real WWII vet Harold Russell) in director William Wyler's The Best Years of Our Lives.

Receiving both an honorary Oscar "for bringing hope and courage to his fellow veterans" as well as a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for the role, Russell's earnest portrayal in the film (which is not without some controversy given Wyler's decision to limit Russell's offscreen independence onscreen) helped usher in decades of new disabled characters on screens both big and small.

From The Miracle Worker to Wait Until Dark at the movies as well as Miss Susan and Ironside on television, viewers were finally starting to see characters whose disabilities were just one aspect of who they were vs. their sole definition in the '50s and '60s.

And although Russell's Oscar success might've also inadvertently led to the ongoing debate surrounding disabled characters being especially attractive for able-bodied actors to play due to their awards bait potential (considering how many bring home Oscars in films from Coming Home to Ray), it still remains that exceptionally rare instance when a disabled actor was cast in a disabled part.

However, there is a heartbreaking follow-up to the universal acclaim for Russell when Marlee Matlin's well-deserved Academy Award win for her powerful turn in Children of a Lesser God was dismissed in the press in 1987 as “a sympathy vote.” Adding insult to injury, when she worked hard to speak the names of the Best Actor nominees the following year while presenting the award to its ultimate winner Michael Douglas, she was accused of betraying the deaf community.

While the sympathy vote write-off is perhaps indicative of a gender double standard, this isn't explored in the film, which already has so much to cover given the complexity, intertextuality, and intersectionality of its subject that it could've led to a multi-part Ken Burns style documentary series.

And with so much on its mind from not only the depiction of disabled characters on film and TV as well as by disabled performers – before delving into the need for more opportunities behind the scenes as well as working in civil rights issues and comparisons to the strides made by African-Americans and the LGBTQ community – the otherwise outstanding doc begins to lose focus.

Jumping around in topic and tone in its last half hour, CinemAbility's talking heads discuss various aspects of on and offscreen portrayals and their reactions to everything from Million Dollar Baby to the depiction of disability based humor.

Needless to say, this doesn't flow very well and while it's all very interesting, the meandering final section of the documentary isn't nearly as solid as the stellar, film school worthy tour of disability onscreen in the first half of the twentieth century which opened Gold's work.

Ambitious, necessary, and long overdue in our cultural conversation, in the end, having too much to say is always preferable to too little. However, because of the limited format of a feature length film (as opposed to say, a five part series on issues such as: stereotypes and depictions, genre approaches, approaching role as an actor, TV vs film, and inclusion in the industry), I think Gold's subject is better served with more analysis and cinematic examples than occasionally repetitive opinions from the interviewees.

Yet, despite that, by covering so much territory, it's bound to not only inspire vital post-film discussion but also cause viewers – both disabled and able-bodied alike – to consider some of their favorite films in a new light.

A crucial jumping off point to greater study, CinemAbility is a fast-moving, funny, and frequently surprising documentary that illustrates in both its examples and interviews, how much our culture benefits when we see people from all different walks of life represented onscreen, including those that might not walk but don't have to be psychopaths, helpless, or superheroes to be fascinating in their own right.

Text ©2018, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.  FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I may have received a review copy or screener link of this title in order to voluntarily decide to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique. Cookies Notice: This site incorporates tools (including advertiser partners and widgets) that use cookies and may collect some personal information in order to display ads tailored to you etc. Please be advised that neither Film Intuition nor its site owner has any access to this data beyond general site statistics (geographical region etc.) as your privacy is our main concern.

Blu-ray Review: Rio 2 (2014)

Now Available to Own 
 

  
Related Review:
Rio (2011)

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Blue Sky Studios’ globally-minded musically driven 3D CG-animated adventure movie Rio brought its aptly named Blue Macaw Blu and his bookish owner Linda (voiced by Jesse Eisenberg and Leslie Mann respectively) from Minnesota to the titular Rio in the infectious 2011 original that enchanted viewers with its high-spirited energy and fast moving storyline which danced at a steady Samba pace.

Unfortunately while it’s as beautifully vibrant as ever in a visually breathtaking opener that once again feels like it's an animated half-pint version of the Carnival classic Black Orpheus, the second film is an undeniably busy, ambitiously overstuffed and disappointingly episodic return to the delightful high-flying world of Rio.

Strategically released to coincide with the World Cup, Rio 2 incorporates a soccer fueled scene that’s – like everything else in the film – ratcheted up a million degrees so that it’s storyboarded less like a regular match and more like a spectacular Harry Potter styled aerial game of Quidditch.

And despite its pro-nature message about preserving the Amazon Rainforest (as well as the endangered birds in another through-line admirably carried over from the first film), far too much gets lost in the shuffle of individually isolated “scenes” in a movie that ultimately lacks the cohesive focus of a well-conceptualized whole.

As Rio 2 begins, we check back in with the paired off lovebirds (Eisenberg and Anne Hathaway) from the original as the couple and their three young flappers leave Rio behind before flying into acquaintances both new and old in the sequel’s dominated Rainforest setting.

Essentially a feathered version of Meet the Parents for the small set, in Rio 2, Hathaway’s Jewel is stunned to discover that the family she’d long thought to have been deceased is alive and well in her old Amazon home.

While indulging in his opportunity to play the Robert De Niro like Parents heavy, voice actor Andy Garcia is clearly having a ball as Jewell's long lost father who takes an immediate dislike and disapproval to Blu by admonishing him as a mere “pet.” However, the biggest surprise is musician Bruno Mars, who steals several scenes in an often screamingly funny role as a childhood friend who still clearly carries a torch for Jewel.

Burning through subplot and supporting characters (including a return of the first film’s fan favorite Jemaine Clement who’s now partnered with Kristin Chenoweth), from its snappy one-liners to obligatory pop songs and brightly colored, firework-fast diversions, Rio 2’s key takeaway about preserving plant and animal life on Earth gets pushed into the periphery.

Sloppily written, the film shortchanges its talented cast and expectant audience alike with a collection of sitcom level scenes edited together with a few eye-opening epic moments (such as the aforementioned opener) buried in between in order to satisfy the shortest of attention spans.

A pleasant enough diversion for your tiniest tots especially given the multiple format combo pack release which boasts a Blu-ray, DVD and digital copy, director Carlos Saldanha’s effort works better than a majority of run of the mill fare like The Nut Job.

And likewise given the studio's dedicated to discovering new topics, techniques, and terrain (even by way of a preexisting template), it is a stronger than average follow-up as far as animated movies go.

Nonetheless there’s still no beating the South American spirit of Blu’s original opus that showed ticket-buyers that outside of the frozen tundra of the impressive Ice Age franchise, Blue Sky has a bright future ahead of them in the sun.

   

Text ©2014, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited and in violation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.  FTC Disclosure: Per standard professional practice, I may have received a review copy of this title in order to evaluate it for my readers, which had no impact whatsoever on whether or not it received a favorable or unfavorable critique.

Blu-ray Review: The Soloist (2009)

Now Available to Own

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Click Here to View the Bonus Short Film "Beth's Story"

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I. An Introduction

With American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Jarhead, Revolutionary Road and now Away We Go, British director Sam Mendes has repeatedly proven his knack and keen desire to explore life for those living in these United States regardless of the decade, genre or if in fact a majority of it is even set within its boundaries (Jarhead).

And it's often been said that part of Mendes' success with American work is in his ability to approach things as an outsider which was precisely the same hook that finally enticed fellow British director Joe Wright (Atonement, Pride and Prejudice) to journey to La La Land for his American debut, The Soloist.

Hesitant to film in a country wherein he curiously notes on this Blu-ray release that he feels he has less of an understanding of it the more time he spends in the United States-- finally he realized that much like Mendes' sense of being an outsider in this enviornment, he could instantly relate to the fellow outsiders he'd be filming in the form of characters Steve Lopez and Nathaniel Ayers.

And his passion for the project extended to the filmmaking process as he further revealed the fact that Wright would only make the film on the condition that he would be working with the homeless citizens of Los Angeles who reside in and around Lamp and Skid Row as he shares in one of the many extras included on the disc.

Obviously, since this was an unprecedented experiment since real lives would be affected in a biopic that was now teetering on the verge of a docudrama, this proved to be a challenge not just to both DreamWorks and Universal but the organizations located in the area as well since the results of such an experience would be uncertain.

However, eventually everyone agreed and Joe Wright embarked on a filmmaking experience that couldn't have had less in common with Atonement, despite the fact that themes of Pride and Prejudice seem to emanate throughout. Since I was fortunate enough to have reviewed the film in time for its theatrical release, I'll republish my original review below and go into the Blu-ray analysis and technical details in Part III.

II. Original Theatrical Review



Originally Published in April, 2009

Similar to the old adage that there’s no “I” in team—most reporters will tell you that there should be no “I” when it comes to covering the news. However, this rule is immediately overlooked for those not working via the inverted pyramid style lead-heavy cover stories of the A & B sections. For, as once we venture into the realm of columnists and feature writing-- part of the charm of a solid article is a writer’s ability to interject their own personality into a piece to add a unique flavor to slice-of-life vignettes.

It’s when the writer has to negotiate the balance of understanding that on a cynical level you may be exploiting another to sell papers and earn a heavily read byline and where your responsibility lies to a fellow human being that makes this an ethical gray area for journalists. And of course, this dichotomy is made doubly complex when one’s subject is physically and/or mentally disabled and one isn’t quite sure whether or not they actually have “permission” to begin writing about a person who seems lost in his own world.

Such is the case of British filmmaker Joe Wright’s first American film, The Soloist, which finds the award-winning Pride and Prejudice and Atonement director leaving his homeland to-- as he explained-- blend “Hollywood and British realism together,” for a piece “that might benefit from his distinctly outsider’s point of view.”

The film, which centers on two very different outsiders in its unique approach of a male friendship love story benefits from the dedication shown for the material via Erin Brockovich screenwriter Susannah Grant’s adaptation of Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez’s feature articles that began in the spring of 2005 about a homeless, schizophrenic, exceedingly talented Julliard trained musician.

The Soloist-- which stars Robert Downey Jr. fresh off his 2008 blockbuster run as Iron Man and the all-time method actor in Ben Stiller’s Tropic Thunder as Lopez-- manages to engage us in an action oriented beginning wherein he’s injured in a bike accident and told he is going to be disoriented for four to six weeks.

However, Grant (or perhaps the film’s editor) inexplicably drops the thread of this great set-up and lead-in to Lopez’s first encounter with Jamie Foxx’s Nathaniel Anthony Ayers that-- handled a bit more directly-- may have helped give us a better sense of who these two men truly are and why they connect.

Instead of implying that perhaps they may have bonded precisely because they may have shared a similar sense of being a bit out-of-sync with the Los Angeles surroundings-- as depicted, Lopez’s character simply appears as though he’s just fishing for a story idea by any means necessary.

Thus, essentially starting the film twice with two introductions to our lead character and still a bit confused about his true personality-- the compelling “initial opening” feels like a first draft that gets discarded when the “new one” takes over. This kicks off as Lopez finds himself drawn to the charismatic but rambling, manic, mile-a-minute soloist currently spending his time on the streets of Skid Row, passionately serenading the environment and the wondrous statue of his idol, Ludwig Van Beethoven with his badly worn two-stringed violin.

When Lopez discovers that Ayers’ story checks out and he did indeed study at Julliard—the reporter in him takes over and as the positive reader response pours in with endless e-mails, Lopez continues to seek out Ayers learning that he’s moved locations to now performing in a busy Los Angeles tunnel as cars fly by.

With the gift of a cello sent in by a caring reader, Lopez takes it upon himself to at least attempt to get Ayers back onto his feet—as much as he can anyway—by encouraging him to stay at the Lamp Community, which is an “advocacy group that offers nearly 200 private apartments for the homeless.”

Frustrated by the potential of the undeniably gifted musician and the possibility that all it could take to set him back on the path to life as a professional musician is the right psychiatric medication, Lopez tries to morally and ethically rationalize just how involved he should get with the man who begins as simply his subject but becomes a true friend as the story continues.

It's a rare glimpse into a community that Wright cites as the reason he made the film—namely Los Angeles’ Skid Row. Describing them as a group of “people [who] are the most disenfranchised people in American society and don’t generally have a voice,” Wright takes great pains to take a movie he initially envisioned as one that was stylistically influenced by John Schlesinger’s Midnight Cowboy in its gritty depiction of honest male friendship into something that later he ended up blending with the social reality of Italian neorealism and docudrama.

All in all, it's an intense work that boasts predictably excellent turns by its leads especially Jamie Foxx. Still, more often than not, the well-intentioned and big-hearted film falters throughout with some scenes that feel as though they are figuratively hitting you over the head as “message” moments as opposed to the more seemingly natural situations utilized in Mike Binder’s fictitious yet far more authentic work Reign Over Me starring Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler.

And while these failures of over-wrought sequences in The Soloist are possibly again the fault of the editing process as it ultimately abandons subtlety in favor of driving its very valid but extremely repetitive and—ironically-- exploitative points home, an unhealthy portion seems far too forced. For in certain instances, even an enormous talent such as the one possessed by Downey appears as though he’s just hitting his marks a few times by angrily shouting or kicking something to try and emphasize just how much he cares.

Despite this—the cinematography by Wright’s Oscar nominated Atonement lensman Seamus McGarvey which was painstakingly storyboarded and captured via 35mm anamorphic format to give The Soloist as McGarvey explains “an even stronger sense of veracity,” is a standout as we’re swept away by the dazzling bird’s eye view shots of the city of isolated Los Angeles residents.

While aside from one Disney Hall sequence ruined by setting Beethoven’s third symphony to a near parade of colorful flashing lights straight out of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey—it’s the visuals that leave us breathless as well as the strong sense of music that fills every scene from not only the classical sources but also from the Oscar winning Atonement composer Dario Marianelli.

Last week, the film was listed as one of the four most recent recipients of Heartland’s Truly Moving Picture Awards. And while the uneven Soloist is filled with the positive message of the importance of human connection, compassion and friendship, it’s also one in which thankfully Grant—taking a cue from Lopez’s writing from both the column and his subsequent book—attributes the relationship as having benefits for both the journalist and the musician.

And although it’s hard to fault Joe Wright’s admirable intention to bring the devastating problem of homelessness in Los Angeles to attention—more often than not, the Skid Row sequences overpower the plight of Lopez and Ayers. Thereby, it throws the narrative off balance and indicates that Wright was really trying to squeeze two different films into one and the humanistic tale of two unlikely friends is the one that ultimately suffers, which may have been why this film’s release date was continually pushed back from the fall of 2008 until its eventual debut in spring of 2009.

However, one benefit is—considering a few of the artistic liberties taken with the facts and the reminder given the film’s flawed structure that the columns were all jumbled together for dramatic effect—in the end Wright and Grant do manage to call much needed attention to the dying newspaper industry.

Therefore, despite the fact that contrary to the true art-form of feature writing, the “I” and the “reporting” get jumbled together in this big screen version of Lopez’s articles—the filmmakers of The Soloist succeed mightily in making those of us still left with unanswered questions want to read Lopez’s original columns either through the L.A. Times or captured in book form.

III. Blu-ray Review

While I've struggled with the sound balance on a few previous DreamWorks releases despite their unparalleled clarity, this release from not just DreamWorks but Universal, StudioCanal and Participant manages to excel in both technical areas, no doubt realizing that since music is such an integral part of the work, it would be under the closest scrutiny for those pursuing the film on Blu-ray.

As he cited that Midnight Cowboy was an influence, some of Seamus McGarvey's cinematography is purposely filmed grainy and docu-style in the Lamp and Skid Row scenes but the sweeping crane shots still soar even on the small screen. Their usage is not just for beauty's sake however but purposely illustrating as those involved note-- the not-too-far divide between the haves and the have-nots since Disney Hall is that close to a place where people are residing for whom wishes upon stars haven't managed to come true.

It's evident that almost like a community organization or volunteer experience, it was Wright's purpose all along to train and work with the residents in the area and collaborate with local leaders of centers for rehabilitation by having them as involved in the creation of the film as possible.

Providing them with skills and training to contribute as extras and help the process, they created what is overall an admirable message movie but one that again sometimes teeters over the brink from exposing the issue to exploiting it both in the feature and in a few comments made in the extras.

And unfortunately, there's yet another cringe-worthy politically incorrect slip-of-the-tongue when Downey Jr. praises his co-star. Although you can initially write it off as an extension of his Tropic Thunder character who lectured Ben Stiller for trying to play a disabled character to win an Oscar, when Downey raves about Foxx and says that he won't name names but he's "seen crazy done wrong" and shares that you don't want to mess with "crazy" since it means as an actor "you suck" you want to reach into frame and remind him he's not on Tropic Thunder anymore and may want to stay on script about the term schizophrenia. Still, as a Downey fan and realizing he worked on so many movies last year that I know he probably didn't mean it in the bullying sense of those who'd tormented the real Ayers, it's easily forgiven but it does stand out on a disc filled with acceptance and open-armed support of the mentally ill and homeless.

One of the strongest extras included on the disc was a featurette interview with the real Steve Lopez and Nathaniel Ayers whom we're thrilled to discover are still not only good friends but both fondly recall their experiences together. Additionally, it offers commentary from the director, deleted scenes and two important extras regarding the issue of homelessness including the short film "Beth's Story."

Yet the sole Blu-ray exclusive is a worthwhile albeit extremely brief salute to Julliard and the importance of arts institutions to continue to exist which can no doubt double as a great political ad and call to help raise funds for the schools that provide an outlet for those like Ayers who would never have managed to flourish or function nearly as well without creativity or music.

Text ©2009, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com

Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited.

Movie Review: The Soloist (2009)

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Similar to the old adage that there’s no “I” in team—most reporters will tell you that there should be no “I” when it comes to covering the news. However, this rule is immediately overlooked for those not working via the inverted pyramid style lead-heavy cover stories of the A & B sections. For, as once we venture into the realm of columnists and feature writing-- part of the charm of a solid article is a writer’s ability to interject their own personality into a piece to add a unique flavor to slice-of-life vignettes.

It’s when the writer has to negotiate the balance of understanding that on a cynical level you may be exploiting another to sell papers and earn a heavily read byline and where your responsibility lies to a fellow human being that makes this an ethical gray area for journalists. And of course, this dichotomy is made doubly complex when one’s subject is physically and/or mentally disabled and one isn’t quite sure whether or not they actually have “permission” to begin writing about a person who seems lost in his own world.

Such is the case of British filmmaker Joe Wright’s first American film, The Soloist, which finds the award-winning Pride and Prejudice and Atonement director leaving his homeland to-- as he explained-- blend “Hollywood and British realism together,” for a piece “that might benefit from his distinctly outsider’s point of view.”

The film, which centers on two very different outsiders in its unique approach of a male friendship love story benefits from the dedication shown for the material via Erin Brockovich screenwriter Susannah Grant’s adaptation of Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez’s feature articles that began in the spring of 2005 about a homeless, schizophrenic, exceedingly talented Julliard trained musician.

The Soloist-- which stars Robert Downey Jr. fresh off his 2008 blockbuster run as Iron Man and the all-time method actor in Ben Stiller’s Tropic Thunder as Lopez-- manages to engage us in an action oriented beginning wherein he’s injured in a bike accident and told he is going to be disoriented for four to six weeks.

However, Grant (or perhaps the film’s editor) inexplicably drops the thread of this great set-up and lead-in to Lopez’s first encounter with Jamie Foxx’s Nathaniel Anthony Ayers that-- handled a bit more directly-- may have helped give us a better sense of who these two men truly are. Instead of implying that perhaps they may have bonded precisely because they may have shared a similar sense of being a bit out-of-sync with the Los Angeles surroundings-- as depicted, Lopez’s character simply appears as though he’s just fishing for a story idea by any means necessary.

Thus, essentially starting the film twice with two introductions to our lead character and still a bit confused about his true personality-- the compelling “initial opening” feels like a first draft that gets discarded when the “new one” takes over. This kicks off as Lopez finds himself drawn to the charismatic but rambling, manic, mile-a-minute soloist currently spending his time on the streets of Skid Row, passionately serenading the environment and the wondrous statue of his idol, Ludwig Van Beethoven with his badly worn two-stringed violin.

When Lopez discovers that Ayers’ story checks out and he did indeed study at Julliard—the reporter in him takes over and as the positive reader response pours in with endless e-mails, Lopez continues to seek out Ayers learning that he’s moved locations to now performing in a busy Los Angeles tunnel as cars fly by.

With the gift of a cello sent in by a caring reader, Lopez takes it upon himself to at least attempt to get Ayers back onto his feet—as much as he can anyway—by encouraging him to stay at the Lamp Community, which is an “advocacy group that offers nearly 200 private apartments for the homeless.”

Frustrated by the potential of the undeniably gifted musician and the possibility that all it could take to set him back on the path to life as a professional musician is the right psychiatric medication, Lopez tries to morally and ethically rationalize just how involved he should get with the man who begins as simply his subject but becomes a true friend as the story continues.

A rare glimpse into a community that Wright cites as the reason he made the film—namely Los Angeles’ Skid Row—which he describes as a group of “people [who] are the most disenfranchised people in American society and don’t generally have a voice,” Wright takes great pains to take a movie he initially envisioned as one that was stylistically influenced by John Schlesinger’s Midnight Cowboy in its gritty depiction of honest male friendship into something that later he ended up blending with the social reality of Italian neorealism and docudrama.

All in all, it's an intense work that boasts predictably excellent turns by its leads especially Jamie Foxx. Still, more often than not, the well-intentioned and big-hearted film falters throughout with some scenes that feel as though they are figuratively hitting you over the head as “message” moments as opposed to the more seemingly natural situations utilized in Mike Binder’s fictitious yet far more authentic work Reign Over Me starring Don Cheadle and Adam Sandler.

And while these failures of over-wrought sequences in The Soloist are possibly again the fault of the editing process as it ultimately abandons subtlety in favor of driving its very valid but extremely repetitive and—ironically-- exploitative points home, an unhealthy portion seems far too forced. For in certain instances, even a talent such as Downey appears as though he’s just hitting his marks a few times by angrily shouting or kicking something to show just how much he cares.

Despite this—the cinematography by Wright’s Oscar nominated Atonement lensman Seamus McGarvey which was painstakingly storyboarded and captured via 35mm anamorphic format to give The Soloist as McGarvey explains “an even stronger sense of veracity,” is a standout as we’re swept away by the dazzling bird’s eye view shots of the city of isolated Los Angeles residents.

While aside from one Disney Hall sequence ruined by setting Beethoven’s third symphony to a near parade of colorful flashing lights straight out of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey—it’s the visuals that leave us breathless as well as the strong sense of music that fills every scene from not only the classical sources but also from the Oscar winning Atonement composer Dario Marianelli.

Last week, it was listed as one of the four most recent recipients of Heartland’s Truly Moving Picture Awards, while the uneven Soloist is filled with the positive message of the importance of human connection, compassion and friendship, it’s also one in which thankfully Grant—taking a cue from Lopez’s writing from both the column and his subsequent book—attributes the relationship as having benefits for both the journalist and the musician.

And although it’s hard to fault Joe Wright’s admirable intention to bring the devastating problem of homelessness in Los Angeles to attention—more often than not, the Skid Row sequences overpower the plight of Lopez and Ayers, throwing the narrative off balance and indicating that Wright was really trying to squeeze two different films into one and the humanistic tale of two unlikely friends is the one that ultimately suffers, which may have been why this film’s release date was continually pushed back from the fall of 2008.

However, one benefit is—considering a few of the artistic liberties taken with the facts and the reminder given the film’s flawed structure that the columns were all jumbled together for dramatic effect—in the end Wright and Grant do manage to call much needed attention to the dying newspaper industry.

Therefore, despite the fact that contrary to the true art-form of feature writing, the “I” and the “reporting” get jumbled together in this big screen version of Lopez’s articles—the filmmakers of The Soloist succeed mightily in making those of us still left with unanswered questions want to read Lopez’s original columns either through the L.A. Times or captured in book form.

New on DVD for the Week of 11/23/08

DVD Pick of the Week:

Bottle Rocket

Bottle Rocket [Criterion Collection]

Composing the Beatles Songbook: Lennon & McCartney (1966-1970)

Fred Claus

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Meet Dave

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