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By EdwardHavens
December 12th, 2007
To be certain, there are quite a number of faults within Michael Schroeder's "Man in the Chair," a film that probably never wouldn't have seen the light of a projector if it wasn't for some kind of "Let's get Actor X that long-deserved Oscar" grab by the filmmakers and distributors. It didn't work for Peter O'Toole last year, and it won't work for Christopher Plummer here.
Indeed, I was kind of shocked, while researching some information for this review, that Plummer has never been nominated for an Academy Award, and that his lone Golden Globe nomination was for playing F. Lee Bailey in a television movie about the O.J. Simpson trial. Surely, he had been nominated for his superb work in "The Insider," or at least been a part of the "Sound of Music" bandwagon. Alas, twas I who was mistaken. At least O'Toole has been invited to The Dance several times. Plummer has spent almost fifty years waiting in the wings, never once invited to stand in the spotlight.
Does he care about these things? Probably not. His character here, Flash, the aging one-time gaffer for Orson Welles who now lives in a movie community-related nursing home, isn't very impressive, and Plummer doesn't really make much of an attempt to imbibe Flash with an ounce of uniqueness. Most actors have made careers out of playing variations of the same general character, but when you Jack Nicholson or Robert DeNiro or Al Pacino take ahold of a character, it becomes hard to see anyone else playing that role. Plummer, as good an actor as there is working today, doesn't exactly phone it in here, but he doesn't put any kind of personal stamp to make it indelibly his, nor is Schroeder a strong enough writer or director to send Plummer to the places the character needs to go to be interesting or even believable.
Michael Angarano, who first came to notice as the even-younger version of Cameron Crowe in "Almost Famous," stars as Cameron, a troubled high schooler from a broken home whose sole joy in life is going to the movies and hoping to become a filmmaker someday. At the New Beverly Cinema, one of the last remaining revival movie houses in the country, Cameron discovers a somewhat drunken and disheveled Flash while the latter heckles an intellectual (who teaches "The Virtues of Cinematic Morals" at a local Cal State university) during a screening of "Touch of Evil." Intrigued by this mess of a man, Cameron (on a bike) follows Flash (on a bus) from Hollywood to Encino (a good twenty mile ride), which leads Cameron to the Motion Picture Residence for the Elderly, where Flash spends his remaining days. The two bond over their love of film and, unaware of Flash's history other than what he heard during the heckling, Cameron talks the curmudgeon into helping him on his film, which Cameron plans on entering in a short film festival whose first prize is a scholarship to the Los Angeles Film School. In quick order, Flash rounds up his fellow Residence compadres (the cheapest, most experienced crew Cameron will ever have), Cameron changes the direction of his student film from one about skateboarders to one about abuses in nursing homes, and Flash helps the kid get his film financed.
It should come as little surprise that Schroeder, whose sole claim to fame is being the one who "discovered" Angelina Jolie while casting "Cyborg 2," keeps everything... the emotions, the motivations, the characterizations, everything... surface deep. Flash drinks because some Hollywood producer-type stole his wife away from him fortysomething years ago. He hurts because he identifies with the caged dogs at the pound somewhere near the Residence. He wants to help Cameron because the kid promises to pay him in Wild Turkey and Cuban cigars, as if a teen with no job who constantly finds himself in lockup can not only afford a good Cohiba, but would know where to obtain them. What we're left with are some good actors (including M. Emmitt Walsh and Tracey Walter) getting some much needed screen time, and a great actor (Plummer) having a good old time cursing like a new Naval recruit, going from scene to scene without any sense of purpose.
There is little doubt Schroeder loves cinema, or at least wants to think he loves cinema. The deft use of clips from "His Girl Friday" and "Touch of Evil" give a knowing wink to those of us who lament the loss of their beloved revival houses. Making Flash be a member of the crew of "Citizen Kane" is meant to hook in film buffs who wish they too could have worked with the iconic filmmaker on his first masterpiece. But Schroeder's playing fast and loose with real film facts in this fictional work will likely bother those he wants the film to most identify with. (I do have a laundry list, but will not bore you with such trivial matters, suffice to say all these inconsistencies kept pulling me out of the narrative.)
If there is an audience for "Man in the Chair," it exists solely in cities with a healthy film community, and even then only for those who have yet to make a film of their own looking for validation to keep pursuing their own dreams. It's a wish fulfillment fantasy that could have used a lot more work before the cameras started to roll, and something an actor as good as Plummer should have realized will not help to fill his unjustly empty awards cabinet.
My rating: C-