Simply put, this film disregards almost every aspect of story-making. It feels like the writer and the director are complicit in their dastardly plot to sell a movie that functions under the guise of moral relativity and shocking content, but does little to actually challenge the audience. The main thing is that there is pitiable protagonist and he hires a sex surrogate, no judgment, but she's really just a prostitute, but you're supposed to question your policies on prostitution in order to appreciate his emotional need for affection. This is very valid, but the movie does very little to hit you in the stomach with that idea. I mean it really could have hurt if they tried harder.
There needs to be another character, the big-shot Hollywood producer who says "THIS is how you make a movie!" It's a shoddy job of adapting a person's life to the silver screen, and although it pretends to pull no punches (full-frontal nudity) it pulls all the punches. There's no serious drama; It's a comedic attempt at a tragedy.
Notable in it though, are John Hawkes' and Helen Hunt's performances which are the most compelling bits of emotional realism. In other scenes Hawkes is usually being sarcastic and making jokes, but with a sense of humor that relies on him being seriously disabled, so to say the humor isn't great, but the content (the fact that his life sucks) makes it amenable because you're glad he's upbeat.
Scenes with William H. Macy are particularly culpable of this pathetic comedy. Everything about the dialogue between the two is as natural as Macy's hairdo. Seriously look at Macy's hair, it's so stupid, I mean for a goshdarn priest; There has never been a priest with a hairdo like that. It may seem like I'm nit-picking here, but it's so absurd it angers me, and I'm not usually one to notice the cosmetic aspects of movies. Everything about their conversations feels contrived in order to convey Hawkes' rosy demeanor about the whole thing and justify his buying a prostitute.
All that said, the actual story behind the movie is a compelling reason to see it despite everything the director, writer and producer do to counteract its true appeal to human nature. And the acting by Helen Hunt and John Hawkes is moving. This could have been a great movie, but it just misses on so many levels.
There needs to be another character, the big-shot Hollywood producer who says "THIS is how you make a movie!" It's a shoddy job of adapting a person's life to the silver screen, and although it pretends to pull no punches (full-frontal nudity) it pulls all the punches. There's no serious drama; It's a comedic attempt at a tragedy.
Notable in it though, are John Hawkes' and Helen Hunt's performances which are the most compelling bits of emotional realism. In other scenes Hawkes is usually being sarcastic and making jokes, but with a sense of humor that relies on him being seriously disabled, so to say the humor isn't great, but the content (the fact that his life sucks) makes it amenable because you're glad he's upbeat.
Scenes with William H. Macy are particularly culpable of this pathetic comedy. Everything about the dialogue between the two is as natural as Macy's hairdo. Seriously look at Macy's hair, it's so stupid, I mean for a goshdarn priest; There has never been a priest with a hairdo like that. It may seem like I'm nit-picking here, but it's so absurd it angers me, and I'm not usually one to notice the cosmetic aspects of movies. Everything about their conversations feels contrived in order to convey Hawkes' rosy demeanor about the whole thing and justify his buying a prostitute.
All that said, the actual story behind the movie is a compelling reason to see it despite everything the director, writer and producer do to counteract its true appeal to human nature. And the acting by Helen Hunt and John Hawkes is moving. This could have been a great movie, but it just misses on so many levels.