| RADIO |
 2003 - USADirector: Michael Tollin - Reviewed by Vickie
Or, say, Britney Spears starring in a Shakespeare play. Maybe Anthony Hopkins on an episode of "Elimidate." That’s a bit like what it was like watching Cuba Gooding Jr. desperately try to rein in his larger-than-life personality to play a mentally challenged man who changes the lives of the narrow-minded townsfolk in his South Carolina hometown by liking football. Yep, this movie is, to put it bluntly, all kinds of wrong. For starters, despite what its advertising would have you believe, the movie isn’t actually the story of real-life high-school football coach’s aide James "Radio" Kennedy (Gooding). Sure, he’s *in* the movie, but the main focus of the entire project seems to be the emotional journey of Coach Harold Jones (Ed Harris), who rides in on his white horse (okay, so it’s a pick-up truck, the color of which I can’t really recall) to save a poor, misunderstood, radio-loving young man. Coach Jones encourages the super-shy Radio (who gets his nickname because that’s the only word he says initially) to become part of the team by doing self-esteem boosting things like folding the players’ towels and holding the football for the place-kickers during practice. Naturally, Radio’s presence ruffles more than a few feathers, including those of the school’s snotty jock star (Riley Smith) and his stereotypically bigoted father (Chris Mulkey). And, in case you haven’t yet had it drilled into your brain by countless commercials, the movie’s sledgehammer-like message is "we’re not the ones teaching Radio, he’s the one been teaching us." I’ll wait while you groan. Radio is painted in such broad strokes that it almost comes off as a MadTV spoof of an inspirational sports story. It wants its audience to join hands for the feel-good theme of accepting those who are different while learning a lesson in tolerance and rooting for the underdog. But it’s hard not to feel that the screenplay and direction have been designed to shamelessly manipulate the viewer and exploit what is, in essence, a sweetly true story. I half expected the "villains" to parade around in black hats and for Coach Jones to tenderly polish Radio’s halo before tackling his own. Coach Jones is presented as a martyr-like force who has to battle his colleagues and friends while he tries to Do The Right Thing. The movie is all about his life, his problems, his struggles, his hopes, his team and his mission (to "save" Radio). We learn very little about Radio, whose purpose in this film seems to be acting as a catalyst for Coach Jones becoming a better person. His past is never addressed, and his present doesn’t fare much better. We meet his mother (S. Epatha Merkerson) very briefly before bad things happen to her, and we know that he has an older brother, who is just off-screen but never seen or heard. What we do see of Radio borders on cheese. Cuba Gooding Jr. is too distinct to disappear into this role. We don’t see Radio, we see Cuba wearing a set of fake teeth and *trying* to mimic Dustin Hoffman in Rainman or Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump, but his mannerisms and personality often betray him. Cuba shines right through Radio so that we know we’re just watching a performance intended to land an Oscar nomination. It’s hard to get lost in a movie when you’re unable to suspend any disbelief. He makes Jodie Foster in Nell seem subtle and understated. Oh, hey, did I mention that Debra Winger—Debra Winger, people!—returned from her self-imposed retirement to sit around in the background of this movie? Seriously, the woman has maybe a dozen lines (tops) and twice as many earnest, loving glances. Surely some little-know actress could have done that job for far less money. Is this how far Oscar winners are doomed to fall? And Alfre Woodard, whom I absolutely adore, isn’t much better as the wishy-washy principal. The most memorable thing about her character is her unfortunate, dome-like hairdo. I’m going to foist a lot of the blame for this mess on director Michael Tollin, whose last film was the Freddie Prinze Jr. baseball dud, Summer Catch. ‘Nuff said. He’s clearly intended to make a moving film (quick, cue the sad music so people know they should cry now!), but has instead left us with an inspirational stinker that will, I’m fairly certain, wring out more unintended laughs than well-earned tears from audience members. There was some snickering at the screening I attended, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. At one point in the film, Coach Jones chastises his daughter for pitying Radio. Radio doesn’t need anyone’s pity, the Coach says sternly. Well, Coach Jones, I’m not giving him or, more specifically, the movie ANY at all. Two slices. Two out of eight, Coach. And I’m only giving those out because I want to believe everyone involved had the very best intentions at heart while making what turned out to be a cringe-worthy, over-the-top morality tale. Effort does count for something in my books, but making a crappy movie counts more. |
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Imagine, for a moment, Demi Moore trying to play someone with autism.
