Side Effects

Spoiler-Free Mini-Review

Side Effects is a creepy little thriller about a prescription drug called Ablixa, and one patient (Rooney Mara) who begins exhibiting disturbing side effects after this drug is prescribed to her by her doctor (Jude Law). She's trying to start a new life with her husband, Martin (Channing Tatum), who's just been released from prison after serving time for insider trading (apparently he did not learn from Martha Stewart's mistakes). But soon after he's released, his fragile wife becomes inexplicably depressed, even suicidal. What happens after all this will be revealed in the spoiler zone. Suffice to say, Side Effects is enjoyable and worth seeing. It exceeded my expectations, and Jude Law carried the film remarkably well, with help from Mara, who's becoming an expert at playing characters who suffer immense emotional trauma (from being Mark Zuckerberg's spurned ex in The Social Network to playing The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo). 

Spoiler Zone

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT??? This movie is crazy. It starts off as your typical dreary paranoid conspiracy thriller-shocker-not-ready-for-Lifetime-TV movie, and then whips out some plot twists that I had no idea would emerge. Perhaps I'm just a gullible movie-watcher, and everyone else saw this coming? 

Two things made Side Effects infinitely better for me: 1) the fact that Rooney Mara's character was secretly working with her ex-psychiatrist, Catherine Zeta-Jones, to fool everyone; and 2) the fact that Channing Tatum's character was killed off relatively quickly. Is it bad that I perked up after Mr. Tatum exited the stage? (Director Steven Soderbergh apparently has a huge man-crush on Magic Mike. Tatum isn't horrendous, but it's certainly hard to believe that he was ever guilty of insider trading. Maybe of disturbing the peace or pirating Eminem CDs.)

Also, seeing Catherine Zeta-Jones play a villain is so much fun. She has an iciness to her that's never fully been exploited until now. Instead, filmmakers have played up that exotic look, ever since The Mask of Zorro. (Actresses who are difficult to ethnically label have always had this blessing-curse. Except Myrna Loy, who is not difficult to label, but still experienced this typecasting. She's very obviously white, but in the 1930s her slanted eyes were enough to justify casting her as the Snake Goddess or some other exotic sexy villainness.) 

In fact, if it wasn't for the plot twists, Side Effects would be a generally unwatchable movie. It's a depressing premise: a girl exhibits dangerous tendencies after taking a new anti-depressant, and then subsequently stabs her husband to death. We're all again wondering why this movie seems to resemble that Oxygen marathon we accidentally DVR'd last weekend. But after the twist, Side Effects becomes a fascinating little thriller, with Jude Law donning his private detective hat as he tries to figure out who to blame. (His career, his family, and his freedom are on the line since he prescribed the drug that caused his patient to go berserk-o.) Law is someone I enjoy watching because he's got that plucky British attitude: he's smart and in command, and it's a lot of fun watching him square off with Catherine Zeta-Jones, who's vulnerable because of her unexpected attraction to Rooney Mara.

Vinessa Shaw appears as Law's wife. She's the typical movie wife: not an ounce of understanding in her body, but they're able to patch things up in the end, Hollywood style (i.e. without anything more than a segue to him picking their kid up from school while she waits in the car smiling and happy music plays overhead). With Polly Draper and David Costabile. Written by Scott Z. Burns. 106 minutes. 2013. ★★

Broken City

In Broken City (2013) Mark Wahlberg plays an ex-cop named Billy Taggart, who became a private investigator after being let go from the force. He shot and killed a young man, allegedly in self-defense, and the incident aroused a considerable amount of media attention and public indignation. Seven years later, Billy is hired by Nick Hostetler, the mayor of New York (Russell Crowe), to spy on the mayor's philandering wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones). But Billy soon discovers that he's embroiled in something much deeper and more dangerous than mere adultery.

The elements of Broken City could almost have been fashioned into a film noir thriller from the 1940s. It has all kinds of bad, corrupt people and some light scandalous touches. But that's where the similarities between that genre and this crime mishmash end. The film never comes together, never becomes exciting, must-see-this-to-the-end movie-watching. Mark Wahlberg is a capable actor, but in Broken City his Billy Taggart has very little credibility. He's not compelling enough to be the kind of character who's inexplicably driven, the way Philip Marlowe was in The Long Goodbye, to figure out the mystery, despite his increasing irrelevance to the investigation.

Billy Taggart keeps showing up where he seems totally out of place: at crime scene investigations in which he shouldn't be allowed, at expensive political cocktail parties where his presence gives him away. The movie doesn't make much use of these incredulous moments. Billy's just there, conveniently invited into important scenes for the sake of the plot. There's also a scene where Billy discovers some important documents--freshly hurled into a dumpster--that help reveal the mayor's political maneuverings. Why, you ask, wasn't this shredded? Especially when, seconds later, Billy peers into a window only to see more compromising documents being destroyed the way you'd expect them to.

The supporting cast is a good cast, but is given very little to do, with the exception of Russell Crowe. He's always been very good at being very bad, and in Broken City he captures the essence of the charming, corrupt political animal, talking his way out of trouble and into the people's hearts. As his wife, Catherine Zeta-Jones looks like a strong, civically involved first lady of NYC, but the script doesn't give her much to do. It's a problem I keep noticing for actresses. They seem to exist in movies to serve a function, rather than to interpret and illuminate a character or entertain us with their own considerable acting talents. It's the men who get to have all the fun. Zeta-Jones has a few little quips here and there, but she's really just eye candy for the sympathetic observer. And Kyle Chandler, as the man she's supposedly sleeping with, who just happens to be the campaign adviser to the mayor's opponent, doesn't have much chance to shine either.

The subplot, involving Billy's actress-wife Natalie (Natalie Martinez), nearly sinks the movie. She's premiering in an "indie film" (the phrase is uttered with such limited understanding that it's difficult to believe she's an actor, or that the screenwriter knows much about movies), and the tacit tension between Billy and Natalie becomes palpable at the premiere, during the movie's explicit love scene, between Natalie and her male co-star. Billy's rage turns to boozing, and their relationship goes on the rocks with the drinks. It's bad. Natalie's movie is called Kiss of Life, and the opening credits are featured over an ocean shore on a hazy day. The conversation leading up to the sex scene is laughable: shallow twaddle about the meaning of life, or something pseudo-deep, as I remember it. It's such a preposterous and uninteresting subplot that even the writer abandons it after a while. Natalie leaves and she isn't mentioned again.

One redeeming quality: the chummy relationship between Billy and his assistant, Katy (Alona Tal), is amusing and the only fun aspect of this movie. (Except, their comic banter starts to remind you of crime shows like NCIS, which is never a good sign for a movie.) With Jeffrey Wright, Barry Pepper (playing the mayor's opponent), Michael Beach, and James Ransone. Directed by Allan Hughes. 109 min. Watch The Big Sleep instead. Or The Long Goodbye. ★½