I've been a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt since his first recurring role on a series, as David Collins in the prime time revival of Dark Shadows. Although I kind of lost interest in 3rd Rock after the first few years, I was blown away by his fearless, aggressive turn in the 2001 indie Manic. From then on I have avidly anticipated his films and virtually never been disappointed. He seems to be one of the few actors who can slip easily between edgy, quirky character studies and big budget popcorn fare without sacrificing his own unique charm, style and vulnerability.
So much so that I almost resisted seeing "Thanks For Sharing" last week out of fear that it would compare so unfavorably to this similarly- themed investigation into the thrills and perils of sex addiction. I could not have been more wrong. Whereas Mark Ruffalo delivered a nuanced, engaging and very believable portrayal of a man struggling with his objectification of women and it attendant intimacy issues in that film, JG-L seems here to be engaged in some sort of Funny or Die YouTube parody of Jersey Shore. I'm still reeling a full 24 hours later at not only his lack of understanding or remotest sensitivity for the material, but his complete lack of credibility in the role. He was everything he never is: mannered, stiff (not in a good way) and really kind of vague in his choices. I'll let others complain about the holes in the storytelling, clunky dialog, laughably obtuse attempts at sexual satire and the cartoonish supporting cast (apart from the always ethereal but mostly wasted presence of Julianne Moore).
The main takeaway, the one that I find truly mystifying if not downright disturbing is the work of the auteur himself. All I can suggest is that he get himself to the filmic equivalent of a nunnery and stay there in penitent seclusion until he has thoroughly paid for this sin, as well as seriously confronting not only his strengths but also his limitations as an artist. At 10 he was a protégé but at 32 he should be much more prepared before attempting such lofty creative feats lest he end up an overnight cessation.
So much so that I almost resisted seeing "Thanks For Sharing" last week out of fear that it would compare so unfavorably to this similarly- themed investigation into the thrills and perils of sex addiction. I could not have been more wrong. Whereas Mark Ruffalo delivered a nuanced, engaging and very believable portrayal of a man struggling with his objectification of women and it attendant intimacy issues in that film, JG-L seems here to be engaged in some sort of Funny or Die YouTube parody of Jersey Shore. I'm still reeling a full 24 hours later at not only his lack of understanding or remotest sensitivity for the material, but his complete lack of credibility in the role. He was everything he never is: mannered, stiff (not in a good way) and really kind of vague in his choices. I'll let others complain about the holes in the storytelling, clunky dialog, laughably obtuse attempts at sexual satire and the cartoonish supporting cast (apart from the always ethereal but mostly wasted presence of Julianne Moore).
The main takeaway, the one that I find truly mystifying if not downright disturbing is the work of the auteur himself. All I can suggest is that he get himself to the filmic equivalent of a nunnery and stay there in penitent seclusion until he has thoroughly paid for this sin, as well as seriously confronting not only his strengths but also his limitations as an artist. At 10 he was a protégé but at 32 he should be much more prepared before attempting such lofty creative feats lest he end up an overnight cessation.