You can’t make your heroes heroic without cause. I wanted Larry Bird to score 60 on a bad back every night and it didn’t happen. I want Vonnegut to show up at my house and discuss the crushing optimism of life but that won’t happen either. A part of growing up is knowing your heroes fade; it doesn’t change their past deeds, but you can’t judge what they are doing now against those lofty standards. Everybody starts slipping at some point. So, to all those strange birds calling Match Point a triumph of cinema I have some sad news for you. Wake up. Your boy Woody’s time passed long ago.
Match Point is a bad movie, make no mistake. If you peel away the hype and Woody Allen’s presence you’re left with something most film students could have cranked out junior year. Woody forgot somewhere that innuendo involves subtlety, not hitting your audience over the head with a brick and saying “you like, you like me”. Was there a good movie somewhere in there? Yeah sure, just like somewhere Larry Bird is still shooting 3 pointers. In some strange way I think Allen is getting credit for his movie not being as bad as his recent efforts. It’s kind of like if you found your spouse passed out in the living room reeking of booze for a week straight and then you came home the next night and all they’d done is make dinner with bad milk. I mean, yeah, it’s improvement but that fails to make it a good deal. Okay, okay, I’ll hop off my analogy train and tell you about the film.
The story involves a young former tennis pro in Jonathan Rhys-Meyers who becomes intertwined in an upper crust family. I say intertwined because the family offers him all the privileges of wealth, all the trappings of success, but it also presents a temptation. The temptation is RopeofSilicon’s favorite gal, Scarlett Johansson who is the fiance of his brother in law. One thing I have to commend is the amount of sexual scenes Johansson is put in, in fields and apartments she’s shown off like a prized pony. The scenes at least offer some eye candy in a movie devoid of er… dialogue candy.
Match Point goes wrong from minute 68 forward (you’ve got to be precise to slay dragons). Each of the actors plays in the film as if they are at different sets and have been inserted digitally. As for the dialogue itself it feel juvenile at best and offensive at worst. These aren’t authentic situations; these are actors playing a role. Nothing about the movie feels genuine. The ridiculousness of story is furthered by how it plays out. It could have been on par with The Talented Mr. Ripley had it not been so frighteningly obvious. The ending of Match Point is decent but you’ll have fallen asleep by then.
This affair not to remember is no better than a lifetime movie of the week. Pointless vapid nonsense drivel is the name of the game here folks. Is it scary that everyone in the free world loves this film and I don’t but I’ve got to call them like I see em’. Match Point is a stunningly bad effort from a talented director. If Dali tripped into a bucket of paint we wouldn’t call it art. Sorry Woodman, maybe next time.
