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One Hour
Photo
When a
beloved comedian goes bad, audiences don't know what to do
with themselves. Their laughter grows more and more nervous,
as they beg for him to do something legitimately funny. Thankfully,
Robin Williams finally realized that he's done enough to establish
his comedian credit, and has gone back to proving that his
Juilliard training is supposed to mean something. In One
Hour Photo, he leaves the audience extremely unsettled,
and that's a good thing.
Williams
plays Seymour "Sy" Parrish, a photo processing technician
for a large Wal-Martish superstore. Working in a sterile environment
within a sterile store, all color and life within Sy has been
leached away, even as he strives for the perfect hues for
his customer's prints.
The only
apparent joy in Sy's life comes from the Yorkins, a young
and seemingly happy family whose photos he has developed for
nine years. As the film is all in flashback from the police
station interview with Sy, we know that something terrible
will happen. Of course, the fact that Sy makes his own set
of prints out of every roll the Yorkins turn in, using
them as wallpaper, would also be a big clue.
Thankfully,
One Hour Photo does not end up taking the direction
that it telegraphs. Writer/director Mark Romanek has far more
on his mind than a by-the-numbers thriller. Instead, the film
is as much a dissection of the psychology of loneliness as
it is a suspense thriller, with the result being the smartest
film of the summer, if not the whole year.
In playing
Sy, Williams has built a shell around himself. Occasionally,
glimpses of the charming man peek through, but only in the
service of the greater tragedy. Sy has been damaged somehow,
and though he might have the tools to be part of humanity,
he has no idea how to actually use them. Instead, Williams
has made him into a grey spitwad of a man, accidentally rebuffing
all hands reached out to him, except for those of Nina Yorkin
(Connie Nielsen) and her son Jakob (Dylan Smith).
The only
problem is, they don't understand what they mean to Sy. Dylan
might, as he is an extraordinarily sensitive kid. In a quiet
but powerful scene, he weeps for Sy's loneliness, and his
mother convinces him to send good thoughts to Sy. For an instant,
we can almost believe it works, but "the photo guy" is too
lost in his own pain.
What
that pain is never quite surfaces. For most of the film it
lies dormant and unknowable, until kicked into overdrive by
Sy's perception of trouble in the Yorkins' life. Even then,
in Sy's confession of it, it remains oblique. Williams gives
an Oscar-caliber performance by keeping away from the stereotypical
Oscar-winning moment.
Such
restraint is typical of the film. One Hour Photo moves
at a stately pace, but it never drags. We get as caught up
in Sy's reveries as he does, and though his behavior is disturbing,
it's hard not to feel some sympathy for him. Romanek has written
an extremely human character for Williams to inhabit.
In telling
the story, Romanek also borrows from a wide range of cultural
sources. Many shots lift their composition from famous paintings
and other art films (even a moment from The Wall, though
much quieter here). The anime Neon Genesis Evangelion
plays an important part, though in a twisted manner. Lest
you think the film is too high-brow, The Simpsons also
has a crucial but quick role.
Few movies
are of such power that I walk out wanting to walk right back
in again. Fewer still are quiet pieces like this. But I will
be seeing One Hour Photo again. And if I have time,
again. This has been Robin Williams' so-called "dark year,"
but with this, Insomnia
and Death To Smoochy,
as an actor, he's never burned brighter.
What's
It Worth? $9
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