Oh, man. Remember how I said that I love Cameron Crowe's work? Well, this film? Not so much.
But first, let's go back in time. The day was February 14th, 1996. I was a young girl with a dream, but without a boyfriend. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!) So anyway, I'm sitting in the theatre, with six or so of my girlfriends, watching this film. And I'm sitting there, watching Tom Cruise as the title character, trapped in a loveless sham of a marriage (Tom must have had no problems identifying) with Dorothy Boyd, played by Renée Zellweger, and I'm looking around at the weepy faces of my friends ("'You complete me'? Aww!") and thinking, am I missing something here?
Well, after watching this again the other night on television (unedited--you've got to love Canada), I can safely answer: no. The reason is, it's not my fault. Cameron Crowe's missing something, and no Cameron, it's not something you can pick up at the corner store like you did that dime-a-dozen, "cute" kid #598372, Jonathan Lipnicki. And no Cuba, it isn't kwan, and no, if you're going to e-mail me (because, after all, I do enjoy using words that no one else understands), I have no idea what that means.
What this film lacks is a soul. Doesn't a film need to position itself in some sort of morality (or immorality, for that matter) anymore? Maybe in these PoMo times, amorality is where it's at, but somehow, I don't quite buy it. Jerry Maguire, the character, is basically deplorable. He doesn't just "shoplift the pootie from a single mother [Zellweger's Dorothy]," he sells it on the black market at a profit.
Okay, maybe not quite that. I guess what I'm having trouble with is figuring out who I'm supposed to root for. Dorothy's sister, Laurel (Bonnie Hunt, in the first of many times she will reprise the role of the thankless, sarcastic older sister who only wants the best for her plucky, but naïve younger sibling)? Or is it Rod Tidwell (Gooding Jr.) and his wife Marcee (Regina King)? Or even Chad (Todd Louiso), the nanny to Dorothy's precocious son Ray (Lipnicki)? I'm inclined to go along with any of these, so long as it isn't Maguire or Boyd. Both are insufferable--she, with her chipmunk cheeks and squinty eyes, and he, with his sad-sack routine and "Mission Statement" (is that a Scientology thing?).
I'll give Crowe this: he tried to make a movie about Big Issues like love, trust, faith, and oh yes, "the money." But I can't really get behind his film because it's just too disheartening. Crowe had admitted as much; that even at the film's end, Jerry and Dorothy are entirely codependent, and that their relationship is far from healthy. I admire that Crowe's attempting something different than the Happy Ending, but I think he sort of reneged on that (perhaps a better word is "chickened out under studio pressure") and went halfsies.
Although I must admit, Cuba Gooding Jr. singing "What's Going On?" was a nice touch. Fitting too, because Cuba, man, I just don't know.
-reviewed by the ladybug, Feb.16, 2002
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