"First Daughter" Headed for Impeachment

But life outside of the White House can be just as hectic and insane as life living within it when you’re the daughter of the world’s most powerful man, especially when he’s running for re-election. Hunted by paparazzi, under constant supervision by black-clad Secret Service Agents and with professors acting more than a bit star-struck, University life might be a bit more ungainly than anticipated. Undaunted, Sam does her best to loosen up trying to follow the lead of her devil-may-care roommate Mia (Amerie) and experience things by the seat of her pants. She has an unexpected ally in dorm resident assistant James (Mark Blucas), a good-natured fellow student unafraid of descending into friendship – maybe even more – with the attractive first kid. Together, these three sidestep the Secret Service and drive Samantha’s father nuts, the young student experiencing things her privileged and protected background never allowed.

If any of this sounds familiar, think back to last January and the Mandy Moore romantic adventure “Chasing Liberty” and substitute college life for a tour of Europe and you you’d be left with “First Daughter.” Heck, the two pictures even share a major climactic plot point, so much so even the most dodo-headed can figure it out the moment a certain central character makes like a smart-ass in English class. But whereas “Chasing Liberty” never had ambitions to go beyond its limited MTV bubblegum roots, “First Daughter” has the potential to be so much more, calling to mind classic golden age fairy tale romances like “Sabrina” and “Roman Holiday.” That it comes close to equaling those ambitions makes the movie’s inability to do so all the more depressing. When finally the picture comes crashing down into moribund self-destruction, I even admit I almost cried. Not because I’m a sap, but because I realized immediately what might have been had it met its early promise.

It comes so tantalizingly close, too, especially during the delightful first half. I am a sucker for a classical and delicately told romance, and this one had all the earmarks of being one during the early frames. Director Forest Whitaker (“Waiting to Exhale”) – whom not only executive produced but also co-wrote eight of the songs on the movie’s soundtrack – brings a melodic symmetry to these opening passages, setting up Sam and her glass prismed world with warmth, intelligence and restraint. Free flowing like an effervescent pop song, Whitaker hints at the delicacy of Billy Wilder or Cameron Crowe at their best, letting his actors breathe and develop into flesh and blood human beings right before our very eyes. I found myself sitting in my seat amazed, agog that I was letting the girly-girl froth envelope me so completely.

The cast helps. Attracting former “Dawson’s Creek” babe Holmes or “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” boy-toy Blucas probably wasn’t difficult, but it is a coup all the same. The duo have astonishing chemistry, their growing infatuation and slowly enveloping love rich and believable; the heat generating off of them enough to warm even the coldest winter night. Blucas comes into his own, doing his best to bring back an earthy, easy-going sexiness reminding me of a young Cary Grant. Big words, yes, but not misspoke – at least not in my humble opinion – and here’s hoping this performance isn’t just a flash in the pain.

The real find, though, is Holmes. She’s a revelation, grabbing “First Daughter” by the shirttail and throwing the entire weight of it upon her demurely svelte shoulders. Whether in Vera Wang brilliance (with matching tiara, of course) or gallivanting in a tube top and white stripper boots (with Hilton-esque blonde wig, of course), Holmes is the real-deal in movie star splendor. The actress is completely believable, crafting a central figure that’s winsome and winning. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, Samantha’s poise and determination enough to make even the stoutest Grinch fall in love. Holmes is a modern day Audrey Hepburn brimming with just the right touches of intelligence, beauty, mien and sensuality the former legend held a patent on for decades.

Yet, at the midway point and after its big not-so-secret reveal, “First Daughter” falls to pieces. Not to any fault of the actors, all of which continue to perform exquisitely, but due to a script that leads them nowhere and direction without a clue what to do. Samantha is setup up for greatness, to stand up and say exactly whom she is and what she believes in, but none of it comes to pass. Jessica Bendinger (“Bring it On”) and Kate Kondell’s (Legally Blonde 2”) script seem more than willing to let their good ideas remain just that: Ideas. Nothing happens that isn’t forced, doesn’t feel constricted by some focus group telling the filmmakers to not take chances, not do anything out of step with the clichés. Everything and everyone remains an enigma, our heroine every bit the little girl cautiously trying to find her way into womanhood and independence just as she was at the start.

Whitaker doesn’t help matters, cutting from character to character with no rationale whatsoever. Silliest of all of these montages comes late just as former Batman Keaton is set to deliver a key press conference. Just as we think we’re going to get some insight into a complex and loving father-daughter relationship, Whitaker and company deliver one line of platitudes before inexplicably shifting scenes to a lovesick Blucas splashing water on a (admittedly sexy) five-o’clock-shadowed face. He and the screenwriters then follow that off with two more scenes of obsequious copouts before almost redeeming themselves with a poignant and elegant homage to “Roman Holiday” where Holmes’ and Blucas’ chemistry nearly saves the day. Yet even that doesn’t hold, Whitaker rushing things to a final denouement – and a cringe-worthy voiceover – that completely contradicts all the messages put forth from the very first frame.

Film Rating: êê  (out of 4)