Al Pacino has become an overacting machine. For starters, as an L.A. cop in a heap of internal-affairs trouble, he puts on a Cajun accent more appropriate for a Paul Prud'homme biopic than a Hitchcockian policier. Why? Because it relieved the boredom, I guess; as does Pacino's insanely cliched habit of breaking up scenes by chewing gum. For one who should have learned something opposite DeNiro's elegant minimalism in Michael Mann's HEAT, Pacino has instead gone the opposite route. One feels as if an Actors' Studio Lifetime Achievement Show is playing inside his head 24 hours a day. Constantly aware of his Great Pacinoness, the man croons and whispers his lines as if every moment, no matter how routine, were an opportunity to thrum a big, fat bass and wiggle his fanny to the beat. He singlehandedly destroys this movie.
The director, Christopher Nolan, is a little overfond of brain-grinding sudden-switchup mysteries--genre exercises that are the cerebral equivalent of tongue-twisters. But he brings a quiet mastery of form to this picture, and some of his key notes--a chase across some waterbound logs, for example, or the final shootout--have the staccato grace of a set piece by Walter Hill at his peak. There is also an avid, eager performance by Hilary Swank as the Nancy Drew who is Pacino's junior sidekick in solving a murder in remotest Alaska; she tears into the dopy part with a sensual avidity that's admirable, even if it doesn't help the movie much. As a murderous mastermind, Robin Williams is perhaps more egregiously miscast than any actor since Lyle Lovett played the sadistic baker in SHORT CUTS; it's as if Mister Rogers stepped into Hannibal Lecter's facemask. The whole thing would be a compelling enough programmer if not for Pacino. His last good performance was in THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE, where his goofy over-the-topness fit in just fine. Someone, please, team him with Adam Sandler, where his gifts will be put to good use.
The director, Christopher Nolan, is a little overfond of brain-grinding sudden-switchup mysteries--genre exercises that are the cerebral equivalent of tongue-twisters. But he brings a quiet mastery of form to this picture, and some of his key notes--a chase across some waterbound logs, for example, or the final shootout--have the staccato grace of a set piece by Walter Hill at his peak. There is also an avid, eager performance by Hilary Swank as the Nancy Drew who is Pacino's junior sidekick in solving a murder in remotest Alaska; she tears into the dopy part with a sensual avidity that's admirable, even if it doesn't help the movie much. As a murderous mastermind, Robin Williams is perhaps more egregiously miscast than any actor since Lyle Lovett played the sadistic baker in SHORT CUTS; it's as if Mister Rogers stepped into Hannibal Lecter's facemask. The whole thing would be a compelling enough programmer if not for Pacino. His last good performance was in THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE, where his goofy over-the-topness fit in just fine. Someone, please, team him with Adam Sandler, where his gifts will be put to good use.