I watch a lot of movies: some of them are good, most of them are bad (let's be honest: my tastes, when indulged, run toward soggy costume dramas, pseudo-art bullshit and serial killers-on-the-lam). If my tendency to watch fluffy movies has taught me anything, it's how to recognize bad editing and worse pacing; if you want a master-class in tight pacing and excellent editing, watch a Soderbergh film. I just love how this man makes movies. They're generally not flashy, but you always feel somehow taken care of: in the hands of a master. Side Effects is no different. It may not be his best work, but it's still so competent you can't take your eyes off of it.
Another perk of Soderbergh's movies is that you can always expect spot-on performances from actors and for as much as I want to hate Rooney Mara (lady is just too perfectly pretty-and-delicate-and-otherworldly-and-talented-and ...), I can't and she's a revelation here.
My favorite part about this movie, though, was how real the depiction of Emily's depression was. As someone who's been there, this rang very true. Most movies that attempt to illustrate depression (especially debilitating depression or suicidality) get it wrong. Sometimes it's hard to put exact words to how it's wrong, but it feels thus. Side Effects gets it right. Maybe that's not supposed to be a compliment, but I appreciated it greatly.
The Bad:
This is one of those movies that is, for all its competence, a one-time affair. I do not feel compelled to own this, nor watch it again. I would tell other people about it -- go see it! -- but I am not champing at the bit to take them to it. I'm not sure exactly what generates that sense, but I think it may be the denouement. While the majority of the movie is a tangle of intentions and claustrophobic camera angles, the conclusion just feels a little too neat. There's a special kind of open-ended ending that makes one want to start again at the beginning; Side Effects does not have one of those.
I feel like this movie wanted to say something damning about SSRIs and America's (pharma) drug culture. If it did, it got lost under the political maneuverings, financial scandal-mongering and lesbian gesturings. This isn't a terrible thing (don't get me started on "message movies"...), but I feel like there was just enough of a gesture in its general direction that I ended up confused.
The Ugly:
Can we just admit it? The reason Channing Tatum still gets roles is not because he is an talented man. To be fair, his entire role here was pretty much scripted as "good-hearted, slightly-douchey meat sack of a husband-character", for which he was perfect... but the dude's just kind of useless on screen, especially when paired with people who are much better actors. It's awkward.
Points I Pondered:
- What do drug companies think of this movie? Especially as they do name-check a fair number of real anti-depressants and make no bones about some of the less appealing side-effects (heh) and quite accurately skewer the existing marketing campaigns.
- Reviewers keep mentioning Catherine Zeta-Jones's "mannish" wardrobe -- it turns out what that means is "not skin-tight latex" (read: what a well-paid, 40-something professional woman would wear). Is that all it takes to "dress like a lesbian" these days? Good to know.
- The oldest Hollywood trope in the book is the "small town kid goes to The Big City to make it big in his/her dream job". Do people really do this? Somehow, it just seems backwards logic. I guess I just don't know how much truth is in the stereotype.
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| Yea, this is a gratuitous illustration. But she's pretty and this is my page. |
- [Spoiler ahead]: What kind of spouse blabs enough about his insider trading dealings to his wife that she's able to tutor someone else in how to conduct a multi-million dollar heist? I am feeling a little left out of my husband's life right now, that he doesn't tell me enough about his job that I could essentially take it from him!
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