Important saftey tip — if you’re gonna steal a life, probably ought to figure out whose life you’re stealing. It just common sense.
Have you ever tried to be somebody else? I mean really tried? Live her life, feel what she feels, experience secondarily as if your life is so meaningless? No, neither have I. But I’ve considered it. It’s hard not to be frustrated with your own limitations. Um, er, that is to say not that I have — oh, screw it. Of course I’ve wanted to be somebody else and live another and perhaps more successful in my imagination, life. But would you really if you were given a chance?
The Words begins with Clay Hammond (Dennis Quaid) giving a public reading from the book he’s written. His book is about an author who steals a book, thus introducing us to a new set of authors and a book-within-a-book about … an author. Ok, OK. I’m not entirely sure the book within a book within a book was about an author, but the tale the be-thiev
ed old man (Jeremy Irons) tells is most definitely about a writer, but we don’t delve into the writer’s level four … not here at least. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “What is this? Inception for the reading crowd? Inception-lite: 1/3rd less Inception for patrons who don’t want their minds completely blown?”
The book thieving author is Rory (Bradley Cooper). His own stuff won’t sell. If only I could find a way to relate to this character somehow … He and bride Dora (Zoe Saldana) are on honeymoon in Paris when she buys the old fashioned case unwittingly containing a metaphorical pot of gold — or the French equivalent, a pot of escargot? When Rory happens upon the gilded text, he types it into his computer, word-for-word. The Words tries to excuse his actions here, letting Rory state he just wanted to feel what it was to let such brilliance pass through his fingers.
That’s bullshit. You don’t retype a novel on a whim or to touch magic or some such tomfoolery. “Honey, I’m going to spend the next few weekends re-typing A Tale of Two Cities …” Who does that? Naturally, this book sells and Rory makes his name. But there is a price to pay for this thievery.
To tell the truth, The Words didn’t grab me initially in either primary or secondary level. Not at first. No. It wasn’t until the tertiary tale with Ben Barnes and Nora Arnezeder as a young couple in post WWII France had me twice in tears that the movie showed brilliance. And suddenly it all came together, every level of the tale. The theft of life 
intermingled with the gift of life. One man’s pain turned into one man’s pleasure and conversely the same man’s guilt reflecting another man’s relevance. If you give The Words a chance, all three levels work.
In some ways, this is a perfect film for one of the summer’s lamer political debates. There isn’t a multi-millionaire anywhere who is entirely 100% responsible for his or her wealth. However, there’s a big difference between those who have setting or nationality to thank as those who inherited or stole their fortunes. Most are, of course, somewhere in between. And what credit is due here? Rory is far from a hero, but is he really a villain? Does he deserve his fame and power? Oh, Hell no. But in a way, he does give an old man new life. The act of selfish evil grants not comfort, but perhaps awakening of a dead soul. It’s poetic and awful at the same time.
The Words makes a case that it takes pain and life experience to be brilliant. I remember when I heard “I Am a Rock” for the first time and wondered what horror Paul Simon had personally suffered that made this song come out of him. Does it matter? I think a great writer doesn’t necessarily need such pain. Detailed observation makes up for an awful lot. Experience by itself doesn’t make one put the words down correctly.
But it probably doesn’t hurt, either. Except for the part where it does, of course.
Being a failed writer is not the joy that it seems
Don’t give up yet, you can still live your dreams
The key? A little thing I like to call: “theft”
Only problem is the trade-in on a soul now bereft
Rated PG-13, 96 Minutes
D: Brian Klugman, Lee Sternthal
W: Brian Klugman, Lee Sternthal
Genre: Guilt
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The non-sci-fi Inception crowd
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: “Damn right, I ‘built it’ and nobody can tell me otherwise.”
