March 08, 2007
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Understanding a car crash.Is anyone else extremely tired of ghosts and supernatural entities solving crimes? It seems you can't take a stroll through a foggy graveyard these days without some spook or spectre asking questions as to your whereabouts on a cool summer evening over 25 years ago. Unless you got a warrant, Mista Ghost, I ain't answerin' no questions, you got that? And if you wanna push da issue, feel free to contact my attorney, one Mr. Darryl Isaacs. That's right, punk: THE HEAVY-HITTER. Yeah, that's what I thought!
Err...
Whenever my brain is overloaded with the trials and tribulations of the recently deceased, I often recall a simpler time in our pop culture when murderers were apprehended by human beings who weren't possessed by the angry spirit of a man-handled rape victim. Call me heartless if you like, but I prefer the dead to stay, you know, DEAD. If I want a mystery solved, I'll call Matlock. Thanks for playing, though.
This may explain why I am so disappointed with Asif Kapadia's lackluster murder mystery The Return. A murder mystery, you ask? Yes, dear readers, a snore-inducing murder mystery with a completely unbelievable supernatural twist. To add insult to injury, the film casts award-winning playwright/actor Sam Shepard as Sarah Michelle Gellar's father, then proceeds to do absolutely nothing with him. How in the hell do you waste Sam Shepard? The guy is fried gold marinating in mystical butter on an angel's silver hotplate. Kapadia, you should be ashamed of yourself. Please sit in the corner silently while I verbally urinate all over your movie.
Freddie Prinze, Jr.'s financial stability stars as Joanna Mills, a troubled young woman with a lot on her mind. Years ago, this headstrong bottle brunette was involved in a nasty car accident that left her more than a little jumbled, psychologically speaking. As an adult, Joanna spends her days as a sales representative for a large corporation, a job that allows her to live out of hotel rooms as she hops from one podunk town to the next. Her current assignment finds her speeding back to Texas, a state that many people across this wonderful nation associate with bad feelings and awful nightmares.
Before you know it, the adorable lass is traipsing through junkyards and redneck bars in search of answers to the onslaught of questions going through her mousy little brain. For instance, who is that impossibly scruffy guy with the split ends and dirty work boots? Why is she strangely drawn to the mysterious hunk with the fists of fury? More importantly, will any of this stuff make sense by the time all is said and done? Watch in absolute rapture as Gellar wanders around for 80 minutes, then sit in stunned disbelief when the film ends and you're left with nothing to show for it. Except an empty wallet, of course.
As I revisit those snarky opening paragraphs, I realize I'm probably making The Return seem much worse than it really is. Despite my eagerness to rip the film to tiny bite-sized pieces, I must say that there's really not a lot wrong it. Asif Kapadia's direction is spot-on, and his visuals are just as striking and eye-catching as they were in The Warrior. Why he decided to make his big Hollywood debut with a silly Sarah Michelle Gellar vehicle is beyond my range of comprehension. I'm sure it had something to do with a paycheck, one that probably had quite a few zeroes printed on the appropriate line.
What sends you off to Sleepyland faster than fourteen candy-coated Xanax is Adam Sussman's lifeless script. The story just kind of lays there, begging someone -- nay, anyone -- to kick it around a bit. Sussman has seemingly raped and pillaged the supernatural mystery genre in search of inspiration. Problem is, he bought one too many trinkets at the Cliche Gift Shop on his way to the word processor. If you want your narrative to unfold slowly, that's fine, but at least try to give the viewers a few crumbs to munch on while they're waiting for the good stuff.
Oh, and be sure to include the good stuff, too. Crucial, that.
The acting isn't too bad, but it's nothing to write home to mother about, either. Gellar is just as hollow and empty as she always is, leaving her listless co-stars to foot the bill. Australian actor Peter O'Brien is probably the film's best kept secret. His turn as Terry Stahl is sharp and engaging, allowing him to easily eclipse the flick's top-billed actress whenever the two share a scene. And please don't get me started on Sam Shepard again, okay? Blink twice and the man is simply gone. Unreal.
The Return, I'm sorry to say, is nothing more than a watered-down episode of Ghost Whisperer masquerading as a faux-spooky horror picture. Truth be told, it's barely anything at all, just a collection of scenes that build to a climax that leaves you wondering why you bothered giving it a chance in the first place. Asif Kapadia is better than this, and I hope he finally gets a Stateside project worthy of his talent. Slumming with the likes of Gellar isn't going to help his career whatsoever. If you doubt my words, just as Freddie Prinze, Jr. Go ahead!
He's in the backyard right now, cleaning my pool.
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