Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Anton Yelchin, Hope Davis, Mika Boorem, David Morse, Will Rothhaar
Director: Scott Hicks
Producer: Kerry Heysen
Screenplay: William Goldman, based on the novel by Stephen King
Cinematography: Piotr Sobocinski
Music: Mychael Danna
U.S. Distributor: Warner Brothers
Hearts in Atlantis is clearly a "prestige" film - a label that is often attached to adaptations of non-horror Stephen King stories. It stars Anthony Hopkins, is directed by Shine filmmaker Scott Hicks, and has a prime Fall release intended to attract Academy interest. Yet, despite all of those factors, Hearts in Atlantis is a disappointment. Slow-paced and unevenly scripted (highly unusual for veteran screenwriter William Goldman), the movie leaves us wondering whether we were supposed to care about any of the characters, and, if so, why.
Like Stand By Me, this is a tale of growing up told in retrospective. Robert Garfield (David Morse) uses the occasion of the funeral of a boyhood friend to gaze back 40 years in time to the events of the summer of 1960. It's the summer when he, as an 11-year old boy (Anton Yelchin), has his first kiss - with neighbor Carol Gerber (Mika Boorem); when his mother, Elizabeth (Hope Davis), is forced to come face-to-face with some hard truths of being a single parent; and, most importantly, when the mysterious Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins) moves in upstairs. Bobby and Ted become almost instant friends, despite the vast age difference. Bobby, who is saving up to buy a bicycle, does a number of odd jobs for Ted - including looking out for "low men" who are apparently searching for him. During the course of Ted's stay, Bobby learns that his new mentor has the power to look deep into people's minds, and that is the ability that makes him a wanted man.
Unfortunately, director Hicks has crafted a film that moves as glacially as another Anthony Hopkins outing, Meet Joe Black. The movie never develops any kind of momentum or energy to propel it forward - it often seems to be spinning its wheels. With only limited success, Hicks attempts to blend two diverse kinds of movies into one whole, but the sepia-tinged, nostalgic coming-of-age story never fully fuses with the low-key mysticism. Instead of coming across as a living, breathing individual, with whom young Bobby can give and take, Brautigan emerges as a remote, detached figure. He seems less like a real person than like a figment of Bobby's imagination. And the powerful feelings of friendship Bobby develops for him are contrived as a result.
Like all coming-of-age tales, whether true-to-life or fictional, this one is about growing up and finding one's place in the world. It's about taking responsibility while learning that life isn't always fair. The most effective aspects of the film are the simpler ones - Bobby's interaction with his mother, who is unsuited to raising a child but trying nonetheless, and his tentative venture into prepubescent romance with Carol. Their first kiss, which happens on a Ferris Wheel, is adorable. Indeed, there's a sense of gentle, unforced realism in their relationship that makes these scenes magical. Unfortunately, the Bobby/Carol material is only a side-bar to the main story.
The acting represents another of the movie's assets. Hopkins is at his inscrutable best - warm-hearted and enigmatic, and as far away from Hannibal Lecter as can be imagined. Anton Yelchin gives an appealing (albeit uneven) performance as the young Bobby, and it's not difficult to accept that he could be transformed into David Morse in a span of 40 years. Mika Boorem shows that even at her young age, she has star quality. Her portrayal of Carol is delightful; she captures the spirit of the girl and we never sense that any acting is taking place. Hope Davis is effective as a single mother who is caught between caring for her son and trying to find a way to move beyond the hand-to-mouth financial situation she is trapped in.
The look of the film is perfect - slightly nostalgic, but not the point of sentimentality. As always, cinematographer extraordinary Piotr Sobocinski, the longtime Kieslowski collaborator, utilizes (but never overuses) filters to suggest moods. This was Sobocinski's final motion picture, and Hearts in Atlantis is dedicated to him. Beyond the photography, there are things to admire here, and, if the film captures you in its fragile spell, you may be enthralled. For me, the turgid pace and uneven writing muted any appreciation I might have of what it offers.
© 2001 James Berardinelli