Well, it’s better than Heartbreakers and it’s better than stubbing your toe on wooden furniture on a cold morning after a lot of drinking, but that doesn’t make it worth much.
Roy Waller (Nicolas the Balding Twitcher) is a con artist with a heavy dose of obsessive compulsive disorder. When his partner in crime, Frank (Sam Rockwell) hooks him up with a new psychiatrist (Bruce Altman), he remembers his ex-wife was pregnant the last time he saw her. Afraid to reach out to a stranger, his shrink sets up a meeting between Waller and his long lost daughter Angela (Alison Lohman). Angela seems to have a positive effect on him and is more than happy to help him con people out of their money. Well, that’s sweet, but will one last con make him ready to retire and be a real dad?
Critics will undoubtedly be divided over Nicolas Cage’s performance. If the character is annoying, and he’s annoying, does that mean he did a great job? Well, it’s been enough for his last few movies, so what do I know? But two major roles in a row as an obnoxious neurotic is a little much for my tastes. Sam Rockwell is one of the best young actors of our time and frankly deserves a much more demanding role than the raunchy goofy sidekick. Check out the under-watched Box of Moonlight or Mercy at your video store. Still, his performance is worthwhile and makes for some good laughs. Alison Lohman is very good and is sure to have a strong career ahead of her. And while some scenes between her and her father are stupidly sappy, some are genuinely sweet. Veteran supporter Bruce McGill delivers another entertaining albeit slimy role.
The ending has a few nice touches. Some might call them twists, but I can’t say I was surprised by much of it. All these obligatory compliments aside, this movie is really annoying. Yet again, we are forced to look at something as serious as the debilitating obsessive compulsive disorder as if it were fair fodder for comedy. It isn’t. And a series of jokes ripping off the equally insensitive As Good As It Gets shouldn’t let it off the hook. Its digs at a genuine problem are further disrespected by the film’s foolish pop psychology. It treats OCD as simply an irritating symptom of unhappiness with a fantasy cure as bland as improving one’s lifestyle.
And yet again, this is another in a series of (bad) films promoting the idea that being a con artist is some sort of misunderstood artistic endeavor. But if there could be a dishonest version of armed mugging, it is the con. So we’re stuck with a main character whose profession is gaining the trust of innocents and then relieving them of their life savings. How am I supposed to care about this jerk’s personal emotional life when all I can hope for is his long term imprisonment?
So in the end we’re left with a glorification of the lowest form of crime mixed up coarsely with a disregard for a condition many people really suffer from in a film we’re supposed to find touching and funny, but is really derivative and cold. Next I imagine we’ll be rooting for a rapist with Down syndrome. C-
