Cosmopolis
Actors: Jay Baruchel, Kevin Durand, Samantha Morton
Release Date: Monday 30th November -0001
Genre(s): Drama
Running time: 108 minutes
Proving once again that Robert Pattinson is extremely effective with the right material, this stoic, languid production may have mood in abundance, but is ultimately a misfire for name director Cronenberg.
Pattinson is a young billionaire who uses his limo as an office in an almost dystopian future. Driving through Manhattan in order to get a haircut, he meets a series of memorable characters - some of whom he has relations with, others who seem like they want to kill him. Losing a fortune for his clients from the comfort of the back of his extravagant ride, as the film moves along everything outside of the limo seems to be getting more and more out of control - while inside is becoming increasingly intense.
As the recent (dire) Irish movie, Charlie Casanova proved, people really don't want to see characters giving each other long speeches. When said speeches feel less like character exchanges and more like dictating ideas to the audience, you may engage some, but you'll lose most. While Cosmopolis is certainly a better film than 'Casanvoa', it pushes similar ideals in as sometimes similar manner. The difference is class, and Cronenberg scatters his film with recognisable faces, who still spout often nonsensical monologues about capitalism.
While Colin Farrell was initially perfect for the lead role (he had to pull out over scheduling conflicts), Pattinson is a more than able replacement, and frankly, deserved a better film. Cronenberg is a writer and director not afraid to tackle an unconventional story, but this is flatly executed. His leading man holds everything together quite well considering; suitably intense after a smug but slick introduction, Pattinson is continually proving himself - but after this and Bel Ami, he needs the material to begin to reflect that.
There's a lot going on here... ostensibly. And for a film with so much going on, this is boring as shit.
