A 'Limitless' Supply of Entertainment

by Brett Parker

Whenever our country faces hard times of economical depression, movies about rags-to-riches stories tend to thrive in their popularity. We can always obtain a great fulfillment fantasy from watching ordinary Joes having fame and fortune dropped into their laps. And even if they are threatened to lose it all, important humanist values come shining through in the end, helping us to realize that theres more to life than fame and fortune. Limitless more or less follows this mold, except for the typical moralistic ending. Instead of renouncing fame and fortune, here’s a film that curiously defends it. The hero of this story resorts to preposterously shrewd methods to avoid the repercussions of his actions, commenting deliciously on the relentless ambitions of our culture today.

Bradley Cooper stars as Eddie Morra, a down-on-his-luck struggling writer. With the appearance of a shaggy vagabond, Eddie can’t seem to overcome his writer’s block, financial woes, and the fact that his girlfriend Lindy (Abbie Cornish) just dumped him due to his laziness. Things, however, take a whopping turnaround the day Eddie bumps into his ex-brother-in-law, Vernon (Johnny Whitworth), on the streets of New York. Vernon is a former drug-dealer turned big business consultant who tells Eddie that he has a magic pill that can cure all his ills. If humans can only access 20% of their brains, then this pill can help you access all of it, bringing you to extreme heights of awareness and intelligence thats almost superhuman. Figuring things can’t get any worse, Eddie decides to take the pill.

Almost instantly after ingesting it, Eddie’s brain lights up like a pinball machine and he transforms into a super genius. He finishes his book in record time, he learns to play instruments and speak foreign languages in a matter of days, and he uses new-found mathematical skills to rack up millions in the stock market. Of course these millions help turn Eddie from a broke sap into a suave, dapperly-dressed, good-life-living smoothie, the kind that even wins back Lindy.

Yet going from zero-to-hero overnight is bound to bring an awful lot of attention with it, something Eddie hopelessly draws on himself with dangerous consequences. A financial big shot (Robert DeNiro) grows anxious to find out Eddie’s secrets-to-success, a scary loan shark (Andrew Howard) discovers Eddie’s secret drug and demands more, and Vernon isn’t able to reveal the source of the pill, making Eddie’s supply limited. Not only will Eddie lose all of his intelligence and insights when the drug runs out, but he learns that deadly things can happen to people who’ve abused this pill before.

Limitless is not only a dizzying entertainment but also comments on the way we live now in very peculiar ways. Through Eddie, we can identify with an American need to seek fame and fortune instantly without putting in any of the apparent hard work. Most of us would probably swallow that pill, consequences be damned, faster than Eddie would. Even as it becomes blatantly clear that Eddie’s success and drug-use can cause deadly repercussions for himself and others, his chief concern appears to be the loss of his fortune and entitlement. The obsessive lengths Eddie goes to to protect his lavish lifestyle eerily reflects the relentless American need to protect our egos and assets by any means necessary. Out of the desperation of poverty comes a Machiavellian need to achieve the ultimate success and keep it.

Eddie’s behavior also mirrors modern day people’s mentality of justifying their bad habits. Limitless appears to be one of the few, if only, films that “justifies” drug abuse. From the outset, the film appears to be a zany play on the structure of a “drug addiction” film, for Eddie gets hooked on a pill, is marveled by the way it makes him feel, and crashes into the dark abyss most drugs takes its users. Yet instead of halting to a tragic ending, Eddie finds ways to beat the drug’s side effects and ultimately ends up with a “if you don’t abuse it too hard, it can’t kill you” argument. A drug abuser’s justification fantasy is just one of the loony things lurking within this busy plot.

Despite the dark and despairing depths the film flirts with, director Neil Burger (The Illusionist) plays everything as if it were an energetic hoot, which it more or less is. I admire the way he pushes for visual creativity to express the fireworks show going on inside Eddie’s brain. We’re treated to elaborate zooms that cover a spectacular amount of area, animated numbers and letters that bounce around the screen, and jumps in Eddie’s memory that appear to make the screen bounce. Since Eddie’s brain is whirling with an overload of information and adrenaline, Burger makes the film appear in the same vein. It can feel a bit messy at times, but its never boring and certainly generates some excitement.

It’s good that Bradley Cooper can convey a natural likable quality, for it helps sell us on Eddie even when he's doing unlikeable things. Cooper has a gift for making preening narcissists appear to have a charming soul (something he employed superbly in The Hangover and The A-Team), and he teleports a great deal of sympathy as we go about Eddie’s journey. The big disappointment here is Robert DeNiro’s performance, which is completely phoned-in and half-asleep. DeNiro appears to be coasting on just memorizing his lines and doesn’t even bother giving his character any sinister sizzle, or even any energy. He may be growing older, but there are plenty of aging pros who could relish such a part (I think of the way Michael Douglass kept the juiciness going in Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps). As for Abbie Cornish, she brings as much sweetness as she can to her small role, in spite of the fact that Eddie treats her more like one of his capitalist trophies instead of true love.

Limitless is one of those enjoyable entertainments that asks you “What Would You Do?” The film gets its big kick from the fact that most Americans probably would do it just like Eddie did it. There are endless subplots popping up all over the place to keep you on the edge of your seat, and the script actually finds devious ways to tie everything up. Plus, it’s a true testament to Bradley Cooper that while Eddie isn’t the most admirable of characters, you certainly don’t mind spending two hours on the big screen with him.

A 'Lawyer' Worth Hiring

by Brett Parker

Crime procedurals are a dime a dozen on TV land these days. The big homework assignment of one that finds its way to the silver screen is to be cinematic enough to distinguish itself from just another prime-time episode. The Lincoln Lawyer passes that test mainly due to the intricate plotting and colorful characterizations of Michael Connelly, the author of the source novel, and from the leading man wattage of Matthew McConaughey, a born charmer whose stabs at prestige and fun with fluff shouldn’t skewer the true-blue movie star he is.

The film stars McConaughey as Mick Haller, a California lawyer who specializes in representing the sleaze and low-lifes caught up in their seedy ways. Due to a DUI incident and a need to save on office fees, Haller conducts business out of the backseat of his Lincoln town car while the trusty Earl (Laurence Mason) chauffeurs him around. Haller’s chief clients appear to be bikers and drug-abusers until the day Louis Roulet (Ryan Phillipe) is brought to his attention. Roulet is the son of a wealthy family whose been accused of raping and beating a prostitute after a night of clubbing. Roulet proclaims to Haller that he’s innocent and that it’s all a set-up to extort money from him.

Haller decides to take on the case even though he suspects not everything is what it seems. An old private investigator friend (William H. Macy) reveals that Roulet’s story is full of holes. Haller’s own suspicions leads him to believe that Roulet is lying to him about something. He digs deeper only to find a large web of deceit filled with bending twists and turns. This web not only challenges Haller’s well-being but gets the people around him caught up in elaborate gambits to seek true justice.

Author Michael Connelly has become a hot property with his potboiler legal thrillers, putting him in the same stratosphere of popularity as John Grisham. If his stories are even half as appealing as The Lincoln Lawyer’s big-screen adaptation, then I can certainly see why. This story covers an ocean of compelling characters basked in the California sun, challenging the moralities of low-level players and the lack there-of within the higher class. The Lincoln Lawyer doesn’t get its kicks from big courtroom scenes, but the chess game that happens outside of the legal system, where the heroes’ economy of wacky and valuable acquaintances aids him in elaborate schemes to beat the system and deliver justice in bizarrely existential ways. It’s a testament to screenwriter John Romano (Intolerable Cruelty) that the script gives affectionate time to each of the fun characters while still giving apt attention to the carefully calculated plot, sometimes before we even realize it.

Director Brad Furman (The Take) may not have mastered expert-handling of the camera, but he knows how to make this delicious story pop and sizzle. The weakest thing about the film is the shaky-cam style most of the scenes are basked in, hopelessly stamping the film with the shooting style of gritty-television dramas. It also doesn’t help matters that flashback scenes are filmed like the ones on CSI. Television shows can be dizzying and crude, but movies should be wonderfully shrewd with the camera to create a strong sense of atmosphere and tone. Still, Furman knows enough when to let the camera sit back and regard the behavior of the characters. I’m thankful for the patient observations within this busy plot, and I also loved the soulful r & b soundtrack which helps convey how Haller is a man of the streets, something he cheerfully agrees to. And wouldn’t you know it, Furman even treats us to some good old-fashioned movie sex!

With all the different styles of movie acting out there, it seems we have a shortage nowadays in the Paul Newman department. You know, genuine leading men in the classical mold who ooze with effortless charm and charisma. The kind who seduce the audience with their abilities to smooth-talk the ladies and tough-talk the baddies. The kind who could teach a master class in how to work your way around the barroom and the bedroom. At this point in his career, Matthew McConaughey has proven to be that kind-of-actor. The Mick Haller character gives him the perfect opportunity to show off his rascally charm, likable ease, and tact intensity, and we should all be thankful for a character that allows a movie star to hit on all cylinders. Haller is a man who goes from roguish schemer to moral crusader, and sometimes these traits blend in nicely with each other. Watching McConaughey infuse such a character with his laid-back smoothness is great fun to relish. I hope this character shows up in many more movies.

In the old Studio days, big stars were given great assists by a supporting cast of invaluable character actors who stole the occasional scene or two. The Lincoln Lawyer follows that tradition by employing seasoned pros to make up the compelling characters in Haller’s life. Ryan Phillipe brings a nice ambiguity to a spoiled rich kid, William H. Macy conveys a great lived-in scrappiness as a private investigator, Michael Pena hits very intense bases as one of Haller’s wrongly-imprisoned clients, Josh Lucas wisely ditches pretentious smarminess as a prosecuting attorney, and Marisa Tomei brings such warmth and sunniness to her role as Haller’s ex-wife that you wonder why they even bothered getting a divorce in the first place. From a biker gang to sleazy rich people, Haller is surrounded by a motley gallery of characters, and these experienced actors help bring heart and dimensions to each person we see. We care about these seemingly disposable characters, even when the plot begins to make us realize that they aren’t disposable at all.

The Lincoln Lawyer arrives at the same moral musings as countless other thrillers in this genre and in the end, it can’t transcend its pulp trappings. Still, Connelly’s elaborate plotting and McConaughey’s electricity make this one more fun than most others. The Mick Haller character has appeared in two other Connelly novels I haven’t read, but judging by the enjoyment I obtained from his first big-screen outing, I hope to see Haller’s other adventures find their way to the silver screen. This lovable rascal and the craziness he gets himself involved in would help bring jolts of fun to a tired genre.