Gimmicky ‘Confessions’ answers no questions

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In theaters CONFESSIONS OF A DANGEROUS MIND, directed by George Clooney, written by Charlie Kaufman, 115 minutes, rated R. The new George Clooney movie, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind,” from a script by Charlie Kaufman based on Chuck Barris’ 1982 “unauthorized autobiography,”…
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In theaters

CONFESSIONS OF A DANGEROUS MIND, directed by George Clooney, written by Charlie Kaufman, 115 minutes, rated R.

The new George Clooney movie, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind,” from a script by Charlie Kaufman based on Chuck Barris’ 1982 “unauthorized autobiography,” is just as empty and gimmicky as the game shows Barris created in the 1960s and ’70s.

You know the shows – such stunners as “The Dating Game,” “The Newlywed Game” and “The Gong Show,” programs in which people happily humiliated themselves and their families for any number of luxuries, such as a fantastic new Fridgidaire, a top-of-the-line Whirlpool sauna or a chaperoned trip to Helsinki.

The movie, which marks Clooney’s first time as a feature film director, stars Sam Rockwell as Barris and asks the sort of questions Clooney and Kaufman are hoping all of us have been toiling over for the past 21 years.

Was Chuck Barris’ 1981 nervous breakdown the result of the harsh and unrelenting criticisms he received for tossing three consecutive wrecking balls into the heart of pop culture? Or could it be that his mental collapse was due to the guilt he felt for murdering 33 people in his alleged double life as an assassin for the CIA? Yes, an assassin for the CIA.

Whatever the case, the movie ultimately doesn’t answer because, in the end, it ultimately doesn’t give a ba-da-bing about Barris’ life beyond the gong.

Indeed, truth be told, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” isn’t particularly interested in Barris or whether he was a globetrotting government thug for hire, as he claims he was in his book.

Instead, the movie just sort of goes along for the ride, taking Barris mostly at his word while interjecting interviews with real-life people close to him – Dick Clark, Jaye P. Morgan and a wheelchair-bound Gene Gene the Dancing Machine, among others – who only serve to further muddle the issue of Barris’ connection to the CIA.

If anything, this movie is more about Clooney’s search for a cinematic style. Employing tricks he learned from his friends Steven Soderbergh, Spike Jonze and the Coen brothers, his movie is an imitative mishmash of ideas, a cinematic whoopee pie in need of editing that follows Barris’ early years in television straight through to the present day.

Rockwell is fine as Barris, but it’s Drew Barrymore’s turn as his longtime girlfriend Penny Pacino that’s the standout. Julia Roberts is featured in a cameo as CIA operative Patricia, but she’s too stiff and self-aware for her own good, offering little more than a talking head beneath a never-ending series of wigs. And as for Clooney himself, who sports a fake-looking mustache as CIA agent Jim Byrd, he gives another one of those patented Clooney performances as a cool, all-knowing hipster, which really, after playing so many cool, all-knowing hipsters, is becoming a bit tired.

What’s bizarre about “Confessions” is that it gives an epic sweep to a man who, on “The Gong Show,” always seemed stoned out of his mind. There’s no question that Barris was an interesting character, but to treat him as if he were an icon, as this long-winded movie does, is enough to inspire anyone to bang that old gong of his loud and clear.

Grade: C-

On video and DVD

SIMONE, written, produced and directed by Andrew Niccol, 100 minutes, rated PG-13.

In the Hollywood satire “Simone,” Al Pacino is Viktor Taransky, a down-in-the-dumps director of art films who’s eager to find that perfect star, a talented, undemanding actress willing to follow direction, happy to show up on time for work, and who generally won’t behave like a supermodel with a Screen Actors Guild card.

Does such a person exist in today’s Hollywood, where overpaid, A-list stars insist upon receiving at least some control over the movies in which they appear? That depends on how you define the word “exist.”

The film, which Andrew Niccol directed and produced from his own script, is essentially “Frankenstein” for 21st century Hollywood, a movie that asks stinging questions about the state of our celebrity-obsessed culture and the Hollywood machine while gleefully stabbing both in the back.

In the film, the monster in question isn’t the traditional lug with a square head and green skin, but a cool blonde with a wide smile and sun-touched skin. Her name is Simone and she’s fabulous, the new “It” girl, just attractive and soul-less enough to be adored by the masses.

The catch? In spite of Simone’s lifelike appearance, she’s little more than a sultry gathering of pixels, the man-made product of a sophisticated computer program Viktor inherits just when he needs it most – but who, when her fame becomes unmanageable, turns into a monster Viktor must destroy. The film loses its edge near the end, but its first three-quarters is strong and it’s falsely happy ending, while not as clever as it could have been, does get to the heart of what’s wrong with so many of today’s mainstream movies.

Grade: B

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Tuesdays and Thursdays on WLBZ 2 and WCSH 6, and are archived on RottenTomatoes.com. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.


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