We're accustomed to Robin Williams playing quirky characters. From the unscripted Mork to the unconventional Patch Adams, we have learned to cut him slack in taking roles to enhance his range rather than his image. This one is a stark contrast to his recent touring performances and HBO special, and perhaps it's his way of achieving balance.
We see a remarkable portrayal of Seymour (Sy) Parrish, a lonely guy getting his life experiences by vicarious means and an extra copy of selected prints. Without a life of his own, Sy lives through his fantasies triggered by the photos he expertly develops. His narrative on the lives of select regular patrons of his shop is a classic of middle American profiling. And his strict attention to detail brings him close to blows with a repair technician whose reality is closer to pedestrian standards.
Beige is Sy's theme from his clothes and car to most of his apartment. The contrast between his sallow life and his target fantasy family is vivid. His only friends seem to be imaginary as Sy move from fantasy to reality in dream sequences that get more bizarre as the story moves forward.
Gary Cole portrays the typical discount store manager (Bill Owens) who's waiting to pounce on any oversight as he peers out from the perch overlooking his domain. His management style, as evidenced by Sy's discharge, is a textbook example of bad management, but more the rule rather than the exception for a mall manager.
When Sy begins to use his camera as a weapon (with an interesting explanation of the derivation of the word "snapshot") he really goes for revenge. And by the time he's through, you have a very strong argument for digital photography and marital fidelity.
In the absence of a dark room - since these high-tech developers do it in broad daylight - we have a very dark film. Not one that will give you nightmares, but you'll never again leave your real address with the clerk at your one-hour photo.
We see a remarkable portrayal of Seymour (Sy) Parrish, a lonely guy getting his life experiences by vicarious means and an extra copy of selected prints. Without a life of his own, Sy lives through his fantasies triggered by the photos he expertly develops. His narrative on the lives of select regular patrons of his shop is a classic of middle American profiling. And his strict attention to detail brings him close to blows with a repair technician whose reality is closer to pedestrian standards.
Beige is Sy's theme from his clothes and car to most of his apartment. The contrast between his sallow life and his target fantasy family is vivid. His only friends seem to be imaginary as Sy move from fantasy to reality in dream sequences that get more bizarre as the story moves forward.
Gary Cole portrays the typical discount store manager (Bill Owens) who's waiting to pounce on any oversight as he peers out from the perch overlooking his domain. His management style, as evidenced by Sy's discharge, is a textbook example of bad management, but more the rule rather than the exception for a mall manager.
When Sy begins to use his camera as a weapon (with an interesting explanation of the derivation of the word "snapshot") he really goes for revenge. And by the time he's through, you have a very strong argument for digital photography and marital fidelity.
In the absence of a dark room - since these high-tech developers do it in broad daylight - we have a very dark film. Not one that will give you nightmares, but you'll never again leave your real address with the clerk at your one-hour photo.