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 atch Point" sees veteran New
York director Woody Allen shifting his gaze to
London, in a tale of temptation and intrigue set
against the ever dependable backdrop of the
English class system. Unfortunately, the results
are decidedly less than inspiring, as Allen
populates the film with a set of laughably two
dimensional characters, none of whom are
believable, or even remotely interesting. Matters
are made worse by dull plotting, ludicrous and
stilted dialogue, and a bizarre avoidance of the
potentially thrilling plot elements which could
have at least dragged the film to the level of
being entertaining trash. Instead, what we are
left with is a stupefying and desperately overlong
slice of melodrama which fails utterly to grasp
its subject matter and which is likely to
disappoint even the most ardent fans of the
director.
The story follows Chris
Wilton (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, recently in Oxide
Pang's "The
Tesseract"), a professional tennis player
turned coach to the rich, who has designs on
moving up the social ladder. Although his
behaviour suggests nothing of the sort, the viewer
is at this point informed that Chris is a devious
soul through repeated shots of him reading
Dostoevsky's 'Crime and Punishment', as well as
its study guide. Sure enough, he ingratiates
himself into the company of the fabulously rich
Hewett family, and into the arms of their
desperate and lonely daughter Chloe (Emily
Mortimer, also in Ronnie Yu's "The
51st State").
Unfortunately, all of Chris'
plans start to go awry when he finds himself
unable to avoid the charms of Nola (Scarlet
Johansson, "The
Island") a young American actress who just
happens to be engaged to Chloe's brother. The plot
progresses exactly as expected as the two
outsiders begin a torrid affair, which quite
obviously has dire consequences for all involved.
The main problem with "Match
Point" is that Allen, who has spent most of his
career studying the peculiarities and quirks of
his fellow Manhattanites, relies here instead on
the same cardboard Hollywood stereotypes of the
English upper class which have been populating
costume dramas for years. The characters seem to
exist in a fantasy land where all they do is swan
around art galleries, restaurants and country
estates, sipping champagne and talking about
'mummy and daddy'. He makes no attempt to explore
the genuine class tension inherent in British
society, seemingly content to follow along the
same lines as "Titanic". As a result, a lot of the
film is unconvincing at best, and at worst,
laughable and completely free of insight.
This gaping void at the
film's heart leaves no real room for character
motivation, and as such the viewer has no real
feeling for why Chris is so desperate to join such
an obviously and painfully lifeless group of
people. Without any background to or explanations
of Chris' supposedly all-consuming desire to rise
in society by any means necessary, the narrative
is thus without any kind of compelling
protagonist, and so rapidly becomes tedious.
The same is true of all the
characters, especially Johansson's Nola, who does
little more than alternate between pouting and
ranting. Matters are not helped by the script,
which is filled with groan-inducing dialogue and
which serves only to hammer home the film's
vacuity. For some reason, Allen seems to believe
that using tennis as a sporting metaphor for the
luck inherent in life is an original gambit, and
so the viewer is treated to endless variations on
the theme, giving the film the distinct feel of a
British "Forrest Gump", drunk on sherry and
spouting tiresome platitudes with a clipped
accent.
The final nail in "Match
Point's" coffin is the fact that the film moves
very slowly, and little actually happens until the
last half hour, at which point the story
laboriously hurtles into thriller territory. Allen
appears to have little interest in generating
excitement of any kind, and instead goes for a
light-hearted, almost flippant approach which
leaves the viewer horribly under whelmed.
"Match Point" is a feeble effort, which sees Allen
fumbling around in a world which, though not so
different to his own native Manhattan, he
nevertheless fails to bring to life. Through his
witless use of stereotypes and his determined
avoidance of excitement and interest, Allen has
created a film which would feel more at home as an
hour long television drama, and even then, one
which is unlikely to be enjoyed by anyone who does
not find themselves stunned and shocked to learn
that British society has a class system. |
