The Gingerbread Man

Robert Altman shouldn't make a movie like this, but the fact that he did- and that it turns out to be a reasonably good and tightly-wound thriller in that paperback-tradition of Grisham thrillers- shows a versatility that is commendable. In the Gingerbread Man he actually has to work with something that, unfortunately, he isn't always very successful at, or at least it's not the first thing on his checklist as director: plot. There's one of those big, juicy almost pot-boiler plots where a sleazy lawyer gets caught up with a desperate low-class woman and then a nefarious figure whom the woman is related with enters their lives in the most staggering ways, twists and plot ensues, yada yada. And it's surprising that Altman would really want to take on one of these "I saw that coming from back there!" endings, or just a such a semi-conventional thriller.

But it's a surprise that pays off because, oddly enough, Altman is able to catch some of that very fine behavior, or rather is able to unintentionally coax it out of a very well-cast ensemble, of a small-town Georgian environment. The film drips with atmosphere (if not total superlative craftsmanship, sometimes it's good and sometimes just decent for Altman), as Savannah is possibly going to be hit by a big hurricane and the swamp and marshes and rain keep things soaked and muggy and humid. So the atmosphere is really potent, but so are performances from (sometimes) hysterical Kenneth Branaugh, Embeth Davitz as the 'woman' who lawyer Branaugh gets caught up with, and Robert Downey Jr (when is he *not* good?) as the private detective in Branaugh's employ. Did I neglect Robert Duvall, who in just five minutes of screen time makes such an indelible impression to hang the bad-vibes of the picture on?

As said, some of the plot is a little weak, or just kind of standard (lawyer is divorced, bitter custody battle looms, innocent and goofy kids), but at the same time I think Altman saw something captivating in the material, something darker than some of the other Grisham works that has this standing out somehow. If it's not entirely masterful, it still works on its limited terms as a what-will-happen-next mystery-Southern-noir.

While it's true, as others have noted, that this movie succeeds on style (acting, direction and cinematography are all first-rate) a thriller must have a compelling plot, and that is something that Grisham's paint-by-numbers approach consistently fails to deliver. There is a bit of a zig and a zag at the end, but it remains utterly conventional and unsurprising, and while it's watchable one can't help but feel cheated. All that talent and atmosphere, and whiffs of tantalizing plot developments that never amount to much, make this movie one long tease.

With house architecture, gingerbread is the decorative, fluffy lace that is put on a Victorian house. Most Victorian masses are really ugly, clumsy, incompetent -- and that's why gingerbread was developed. The reason behind all this was the rise of the carpenter-designer. Victorian architecture is a product of the industrial age. Everyone wanted such a house, and with few skilled architects around, some blunt conventions were developed that any craftsman could use. And then dress up the horrendous result with gingerbread.

So it is with this film. The key problem here is that it has no master designer. The script was rather developed on the spot in Altman's famous `let's improvise' method by the rude mechanicals involved.

This film was made for one reason: Branagh had a Clinton impression he didn't want to waste. And at least his contribution is all built around his singular idea of the man, using the blunt conventions of the `thriller.' Altman is just along for the ride.

In comments on Branagh's Shakespeare (and the Shakespeare of others), I've noted the pitfalls of putting an actor in charge. Actors are very late in the dramatic food chain, and just cannot understand bigger picture dynamics. Branagh himself has escaped these limitations (when he has) only because he is adept with Shakespearian conventions. (His acting always is remarkable, but that's another issue.)

See this film. It really helps to put perspective on the very interesting adventure of Branagh's trying to grow Shakespeare from the actor's eye. And it helps one understand why his `Love's Labor's Lost' is as it is.

You got it, even though this movie is from director Robert Altman, he has managed to produce a very average thriller here, which is raised a few bars up by the cast, which takes the movie with ease. Robert Duvall is underused (he only has three or four lines of dialogue), and Robert Downey Jr. performs his usual "wisecracker" role. The treat here is seeing Kenneth Branagh on one of his non-Shakespeare incursions and stepping into the skin of a workaholic, stressed-out, mundane lawyer which bumps into a woman that will change his way of life. Altogether it is rather watchable, but doesn't bring anything new to the genre, and one thinks if the names involved aren't just a way to promote such a standard script. Anyway, it has some fun in it, despite the clichés.

The Gingerbread Man has all the ingredients of a fine movie. A respected director, a script by a best-selling author, and a well-rounded cast, all of whom succeed in stretching their abilities. The question of why the movie crumbles, seeming more like a mediocre television show than a movie, lies with Grisham's set of unlovable characters and a director who, disrespectful of his audience's intelligence, gives away the entire pending two-hour plot within the first ten minutes of the movie by his choice of camera shots.

The cast, each out of the respective genres that made them famous, deliver unexpectedly fine performances. Yet their characters suffer from existing as Hollywood stereotypes of Southerners whose greed, stupidity, and amorality are not grounded in the audience's reality. The movie does manage to attain a high level of suspense, yet it is difficult to muster any compassion for a sleazy dolt of an attorney, his obviously manipulative one-night stand, and a uni-dimensional supporting cast. After viewing The Gingerbread Man you'll want two hours of your life back.