Limitless. Rated M (drug themes, violence, sexual references and infrequent coarse language). 105 minutes. Directed by Neil Burger. Screenplay by Leslie Dixon. Based on the novel The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn.
If you’ve ever relied on more than one good, old-fashioned pain relief tablet to get you through the tasks at hand, you’ll find much to relate to in this big, brash and brassy tale about down-on-his-luck writer Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper) who stumbles onto a wonder-drug that catapults him to the very pinnacle of success.
The breath-draining opening credits more than successfully set the mood, the tone and the pace of all that is to follow – with Burger (The Illusionist) and cinematographer Jo Willems (30 Days of Night, Hard Candy) matching their hero’s altered state(s) of mind with an occasionally dazzling range of visual styles and technologically-inspired transformations.
Editors Tracy Adams and Naomi Geraghty (Hotel Rwanda, The Illusionist) successfully set a punishing pace early on, but as Dixon’s (Mrs Doubtfire, Overboard, Outrageous Fortune) screenplay begins to run out of puff, there is the distinct feeling that the filmmakers, equally, have run out of ideas. Unlike the brilliantly layered Inception which escorted us to the very depths of fascinating psychological and emotional conflict, Limitless ends up with chronic delusions of intrigue – failing to find its place in the reality-warping, mind-bending recesses of an intriguing mind.
Australian-born Abbie Cornish (Somersault, Candy, Bright Star) delivers a fine turn as Eddie’s ex-girlfriend Lindy, while Robert De Niro doesn’t get much of a stretch in his role as businessman Carl van Loon. Anna Friel, on the other hand, walks away with the acting honours with a neat little cameo as Eddie’s recovering drug-addicted ex-wife.
Peculiarly, once it’s all over, it’s impossible to decide precisely what the filmmakers intended to share with us regarding the ethical dilemmas associated with their particular morality tale of drug-induced excesses. And as it already limps off into the distant recesses of my memory, I can’t shake the feeling that I have just sat through a very smartly made movie about Mr Cooper’s classic matinee-movie-idol persona – with which this movie is afflicted to near-overdose levels. Problematically for all concerned, behind all the glossy surfaces there appears to be absolutely nothing of any real interest.
This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.
No comments:
Post a Comment