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"Familiar
Sidewalks Lead Nowhere"
Ed
Burns is a conundrum.
On
one hand, he is a multi-talented artist possessing equal parts
ease and confidence whether he is behind or in front of the
camera. Showcasing classic movie star looks he can steal an
entire scene with a glance and has an "everyday"
quality most film stars lack. Displaying the sure handedness of
a master director, he makes complex camera movements seem
effortless and his films have a fluid reality that few muster.
On
the other hand, he is a maudlin and cliché ridden filmmaker
with more ego than sense. Cribbing from equal parts Woody Allen,
Francois Truffaut, Billy Wilder and John Cassavetes, Burns’
films showcase much in the way of these great filmmakers’
style and little of their craftsmanship. His screenplays, while
full of crisp dialogue and genuine emotion, cover territory in
such obvious and familiar strokes that render it all to
cinematic pointlessness when all is said and done. The
Brothers McMullen, She’s the One and No
Looking Back all shared these problems in one degree or
another, and in the end they were all equally crippled by them.
This
is the enigma faced while watching Burns’ fourth feature as
writer/director Sidewalks
of New York. On one hand, Burns displays his most assured
and delicate handiwork as a director to date. The film is filled
with juicy performances from a strong ensemble cast and a few
moments reach a strong emotional crescendo that is wondrous. On
the other hand, Sidewalks travels down the Woody Allen road far too closely, at
times mimicking the famed New York filmmaker to near parody.
While one is genuinely impressed with Burns’ maturation behind
the camera, they are equally dismayed by his continuing
unoriginality as a writer which then casts a strong shadow of
negativity over that initial impression.
Sidewalks
is the time-told tale of love in New York shown through the eyes
of couples and characters falling into love, falling out of
love, or simply falling from grace. There are three main story
lines and each weave into the other like a quilt so characters
from each can spend time intermingling. The first revolves
around Tommy (Burns), a producer for a popular New York
television talk program featuring a preening sexist named Carpo
(Dennis Farina). Tommy’s girlfriend has just called their
relationship quits, leaving the young executive out on the
street and dumfounded as to the reasons for this sudden
disillusion. During a chance encounter at a local video store
over a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Tommy meets Maria (Josie and the Pussycats’ Rosario Dawson) and he starts thinking
love may be in bloom once more.
Story
two concerns Annie (Heather Graham) and Griffin (Stanley Tucci)
who may be on the down slope of a marriage, Griffin’s second.
Annie believes in the everlasting nature of love and the thought
of cheating on her marriage vows chills her to the bone. When
she starts to believe Griffin may be having an affair, all her
notions on love, commitment and fidelity are put to the test.
The
third showcases a relationship during its blooming starting with
energetic doorman and sometime musician Ben (David Krumholtz, The
Mexican, The Ice Storm) as he woos bubbly and
effervescent waitress and college student Ashley (Brittany
Murphy, Clueless, Girl Interrupted). She’s not sure she’s interested. He’s sure
she would be if she got to know him. Ben descends upon her local
coffee shop/diner daily much like an obsessed stalker with hopes
of just one date lingering on the tip of each overcooked French
Fry. Ashley flirts at the attention, deflecting each advance
with a girlish giggle or twist.
All
the actors shine, especially the gifted character actors Tucci
and Farina, each doing snide variations on individuals they’ve
played numerous times before. They are the prigs of the piece;
womanizing egotists who look at women only for the pleasure they
bring. Two sides of the same coin, one owns up readily to this
trait while the other hides behind a marriage to try and keep
some semblance of human normalcy. Graham is also quite good, but
it’s hard to get the bad aftertaste of her recent performances
(most notably her embarrassingly bad turn in Say
It Isn’t So) and those memories unfortunately linger
over her here.
It
does not help any of the female members of the cast, however,
that Burns’ script insists on presenting a decidedly male
bias. The men in the movie all talk about sex as if it is some
sort of Olympic sport. The writer/director claims the film came
out of his experience working with the young cast of Saving
Private Ryan and Sidewalk
has a locker room mentality that permeates the entire
proceedings. It doesn’t help that the film refuses to move
beyond the obviousness of the material. The Graham and Tucci
tale seems lifted directly from Husband
and Wives - so much so Woody should demand a script credit
– and the way each of the three stories overlap is almost
comical.
Yet
each time the movie annoys to the point of disgust, Burns
manages a scene of emotional resonance that surprises. My
favorite, a scene between Tommy and Maria on the latter’s
doorstep. Both Burns and Dawson are so good in this scene, the
writing so crisp and the cinematography and editing are so right
on that I couldn’t help but question my own indignation
towards the majority of the film.
In
the end, all I can really do is throw my hands in the air and
plead for mercy. While I recognize Burns’ talent I can not
help but be dismayed by his continuing immaturity as a
storyteller. How long before he gets it together and paints a
picture without the use of so many simple primary colors? How
long before the cliché well he’s grounded himself in runs
dry? How many chances do you give him before dismissal as
another promising wunderkind unable to reach beyond his own
front nose?
After
Sidewalks of New York
I’m not sure I care to know the answers anymore.
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