Reign Over Me
I’ll be honest- I was looking forward to this movie in the same way I was looking forward to “United 93” and “World Trade Center”- with cautious optimism, yet hopeful because of the talent behind it. Although nowhere in the credits is it stated that this is “inspired by a true story,” it’s no doubt a mirror to many stories after many tragedies, not just September 11. But because of the nature of this particular tragedy, delicacy must be taken, regardless of whether you’re tackling a true story- as the makers of last year’s duel 9/11 films did- or creating a fictional one. The latter is especially problematic, as it must resonate with a certain level of emotional truth that makes one forget that they’re watching a fundamentally “Hollywood” movie.
After his 2005 film “The Upside of Anger,” writer-director Mike Binder (who wrote rich characters for Joan Allen and Kevin Costner to dig into, both of whom gave award-caliber performances) would seem like an ideal candidate to tackle such a project given the way he deftly handled the insanity and absurdity of modern-day life in that gem with a perceptive eye. And with Adam Sandler and Don Cheadle headlining a deep ensemble cast in characters that play to both actor’s strengths, one look at the trailer for “Reign Over Me” promises a emotionally-honest examination of what it’s like to lose your life in one quick moment.
Sadly, “Reign Over Me” is a Hollywood movie through and through, and despite the obvious talent in front of- and behind- the camera, it feels just as cloying and manipulative as the worst of them. That doesn’t mean it belongs in the same category as that- it’s well-acted and resonates with some truth in scenes that require it- but seeing as though we’ve already seen two films tackle September 11 directly that were capable of reducing viewers to tears, the bar has officially been raised to higher standards than the likes of this film.
Sandler- taking a break from his usual high-concept comedy to return to the dramatic territory of Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Punch-Drunk Love”- plays Charlie Fineman, a former dentist whose family- his wife, his three children, even his dog- were on one of the planes that hit the World Trade Center on 9/11. Since that unbearable tragedy, he’s become something of a hermit, reclusive, in his own world (many times listening to his walkman to shut out the outside world when he’s not in his empty apartment playing drums or video games), riding on his scooter around New York with a sort of serenity that his wife’s parents (Robert Klein and Melinda Dillon) don’t understand because he refuses to talk about his loss. One day, Charlie is noticed by Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle), a practicing dentist and former roommate with some issues of his own with a wife (Jada Pinkett Smith, unable to give her shallow role any real weight) that’s too overbearing with him and a practice that made his colleagues rich, even if they don’t respect him any more. And that’s not even including a pending harassment suit by a troubled woman (Saffron Burrows) who isn’t shy about offering Alan a blow job while in for a checkup. If you can’t see where this is heading with Charlie and Alan, you clearly haven’t seen enough movies.
There are a handful of things that work in this movie; as “Punch-Drunk Love” proved, Sandler has the chops for this type of performance. Unfortunately, he has inferior material- with lofty ambitions (the film never shows an ounce of real profundity of the type Donald Sutherland’s judge discusses)- to work with, although there are rare moments (namely, the “big” reveal to Alan in Charlie’s therapist’s office) that give Sandler an opportunity to open up with some real dramatic weight, and Sandler has an easy chemistry with Cheadle (a terrific actor who rolls with what the script gives him, which isn’t much unfortunately) that makes the seemingly odd pairing ideal. But Binder doesn’t do them any favors (although he does give himself a decent role as Charlie’s lawyer/friend). The subplot with the patient and harassment suit is unnecessary to the point of being offensive; it feels forced into the movie to show how little Alan is supported by his partners, when something far less demeaning (both to the viewer and to the characters- Burrows’ is cut from the same cloth as Charlie evidently) might have been far more effective. And when Alan does get Charlie to go see a therapist, I guess the point of making Liv Tyler’s shrink so young and by-the-book average was to point to how ineffectual such a process can be to people who’ve felt profound loss- and profoundly lost- in their lives. But then he undercuts that idea with Charlie’s opening up to Alan, which is a step in the right direction for Charlie, but a step sideways for a film that follows every cliche in the book.
I think the thing that intrigued me most about “Reign Over Me” was the idea of hopefully seeing an honest portrayal of a lost soul coming back from the brink through the efforts of a friend who learns to find a bit of themselves in the lost soul without even seeking it, making the bond mutually beneficial for both. This isn’t that film; not by a longshot, but not just because it’s ultimately hollow and maudlin. In the end, Alan realizes- as do the other characters- that nobody in Charlie’s position can be forced down one path towards finding themselves again; we must all find our own way of coming back from grief. That Charlie isn’t quite there yet, but closer to the road than he was at the start, at the end of the film is a rare moment of grace in a movie that is anything but graceful in its’ approach.
