A GLIMPSE INSIDE THE MIND OF

CHARLES SWAN III

By Coppola (Roman)

A mess. That’s the simplest and most to the point way of describing Roman Coppola’s 2012 directorial effort. The co-writer and conceptualist of many of Wes Anderson’s films both long and short form took to once again stretching his own filmic muscles. Problem is, he doesn’t work them out too often, he’s soft around the middle and it shows here.

Where Coppola endeavours to shoot a film akin to his core collaborators’ work (Rushmore, The Darjeeling Ltd) He fails exceptionally and instead creates a hollow skeleton, a stereotypical take on how Wes Anderson films.

Roman Coppola has talent, not his father’s wealth of genius albeit withered nor his sister’s off kilter artsy take on popcorn cinema, no, his talent lies somewhere else. Roman Coppola is an adept screenwriter and boasts a very strong list of co-writing credits, he has a tight visual eye but out of the splendour that is nepotism, he found himself as a player in an industry simply because his dad made The Godfather.

But let’s talk about Charles Swan III, a film about a graphic designer but more so about a drunkard, sex hound misanthrope played aptly by Charlie Sheen who in the public’s consciousness is all three of these things. He’s faced a near death experience after crashing his car and suffering from a mild heart attack. Upon being rushed to the hospital and his condition being stabilized, Swan drifts in and out of a fever dream centering on the love of his life, Ivana (Kathryn Winnick)-who left him and in turn destroyed his life and his perception of reality. While this is transpiring, Swan is to design a cover for his friend and associate Kirby Star’s (Jason Schwartzman) newest comedy album. His advisor Saul (Bill Murray) fills him in about their wavering numbers and on how his marriage is also falling to pieces.

Swan’s estranged sister Izzy (Patricia Arquette), a semi-pro writer visits him and condemns his fixation with Ivana, telling him to move on. Swan, reluctant to do so and bogged down by paranoia and jealousy instead bugs some of Ivana’s luggage that she is to pick up at the mansion with the help of Kirby, to find out if she’s with someone new. All the while, Swan dives into a world of drinking and self-loathing for the remainder of the 87 minute runtime.

Coppola’s film should be a educational piece on substance versus style, what we have is a movie that coasts so heavily on its exceptional and outlandish art direction but happens to have a story that is as boring as watching paint drying and as funny as The Deer Hunter.

It’s a paint by numbers Wes Anderson film in the worst way, decidedly quirky and trying to appeal to a demographic that thinks they are in some sort of twee culture know, sipping their Pabst Blue Ribbon and checking Instagram.

I hate to keep likening this film to Anderson’s work, Anderson has done some exceptional work in the past and although I’m not the biggest fan of him, I respect the shit out of his vision. Coppola’s film is so transparently cribbing on the successes of Anderson, leaning on aesthetic alone, thinking that is the key to Anderson’s success, a series of beats. When in fact, Anderson’s film are strong because they work outside of beats and preconception, because his characters are non-traditional and are in turn very engaging to the viewer. When you turn something so outside of formula like Anderson’s filmic sensibilities into formula, you stunt what made that work so very engaging in the first place.

Don’t watch this movie, I recommend very little from Roman Coppola who has in proven he’s a man with some vision, an overactive imagination and an aptitude for writing scripts with people more talented than he is.