An Unfinished Life
I am a Redford and Morgan Freeman fan, and I am developing a respect for Josh Lucas, who has come quietly into his own in the past several years, notably in Undertow of 2004, but nothing can ruin a picture faster than the acting nightmare that is Jennifer Lopez. At the pinnacle of An Unfinished Life Ms. Lopez fails at her task so terribly that I turned the movie off and had to start again the next day. This scene recalled Halle Berry’s horrendous acting job when she plays drunk in Monster’s Ball, which is when I stopped believing that movie. Alas, she received an Acadamy for this effort, which suggests to me that many in the Acadamy have an agenda or are blind to bad drunks. I have nothing against Ms. Lopez; she’s pretty, she seems sweet and makes every scene she’s in come off like a cheap B movie unfortunately, unless she’s not speaking. The story is a big set piece like the Truman Show, a clumsily overly lit direction effort that plays like Life As A House, another piece of piffle I didn’t buy. There are moments in the movie; waitress Camryn Manheim’s reflection is powerful and noteworthy, Becca Gardner’s Griff displays an earnest pride I want to see more of. Redford and Freeman have trouble finding their groove together in a movie where every tangential character or symbol is playing for forgiveness in crusty lockstep as the main characters work their thing out. Although director Lasse Holstrom tries to use Redford as he was in the Natural and Freeman as he was in The Shawshank Redemption, this story had potential but the direction lacks heart, cool, nuance and Ms. Lopez should never be used in a drama that intends to move an audience.
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