Review Copyright Rose Cooper, 2002

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If you're anything like me, the very first thing you must do while watching Simone, is to forget the notion that the makers of this flick ever had even the most tenuous contact with computer technology. I'm serious; if you're expecting anything near reality - in any guise - during this movie, you'll be sorely disappointed. So, like me, you'll need to just make up in your mind right from the very first time Al Pacino's character touches a computer part, that "no, the sheer BS in this movie will not keep me from watching the rest of this flick without running out and looking for a switch to whup somebody's behind for committing such technological misdeeds." Did that work for me? I'll put it this way: unlike my reaction to much the same claptrap in Face/Off, I sat all the way through this movie. THE STORY (WARNING: **spoilers contained below**) Film director Viktor Taransky (Al Pacino) has a big problem when his tempestuous, primadonna star Nicola Anders (Winona Ryder, great in a small role) walks out in the middle of production of Taransky's latest film. Studio Chief Elaine Christian (Catherine Keener), who also happens to be Taransky's latest ex-wife, has little sympathy for Taransky's troubles; she tells him that if he can't get his issues resolved, he's fired. Desperate, Taransky does what any Hollywood Director with the magic of movies at his disposal, would do: he creates a SuperStar...operative word being "creates". His Simone creation becomes bigger than the two of them, which draws the attention of a nosy reporter and his assistant (Pruitt Taylor Vince and Jason Schwartzman). But Taransky has a bigger problem: is he controlling Simone - or is Simone controlling him? THE UPSHOT Forget everyone else in this film (easy to do: except for Winona Ryder, the balance of the cast is rather forgetful). Simone is all about Al Pacino acting against a "green screen". Did he succeed? Well, yes and no. Pacino isn't generally known for his comic touches, but they served him well in Simone. Like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, Pacino's fun, feminine side drew out first chuckles, then belly laughs, from our audience. His sense of comic timing was surprisingly tight - which made it all the more painful when the film lapsed into preachy seriousness. Maybe it's because I already know how morally bankrupt the whole Hollywood machine is; but maird, I didn't need to sit through long drawn-out scene after long drawn-out scene of Pacino's wacked-out monologues, saying the same. Not that I blame Pacino for those long, snooze-worthy monologues. As a director, Andrew Niccol had a fair-to-middling eye; he seemed to capture the feel of the industry in which he works, though he has nary a clue about what computers actually do (oops...said I wouldn't Go There). But he needs to leave the writing to trained professionals next time. His dialogue was stilted and unbelievable, and again, only Pacino came out of the other side of this film with anything resembling good work. That Pacino was able to carry this film to a flashing yellowlight rating solely on the strength of his comedic chops, is a credit to his L33t $killz as a thespian majora. But Pacino, in serious/preachy mode, almost takes the movie down. And his ongoing bent toward playing Tired, put-upon characters as if they are in a state of constant drunkenness, has worn out its welcome. Where is the Pacino that was so vital in films like the Godfather series, or Glengarry Glen Ross? I miss that Al Pacino. Somebody needs to pack up A.Pacino v3.1 for a refit. BAMMER'S BOTTOM LINE Funny Pacino was a delight to watch; but Preachy Pacino made the movie drag - and Tired Pacino continues to grind my gizzard. SIMONE:   back to top And that's the way I see it. Rose "Bams" Cooper 3BlackChicks Review™ Copyright Rose Cooper, 2002 EMAIL: bams@3blackchicks.com    ICQ: 7760005 http://www.3blackchicks.com/