Third Person suffers from the rare disease of being too clever for its own good. This happens with such infrequency, it can cause the occasional reviewer to be fooled into thinking it’s a good film. Don’t be that guy. Like so many compilation tales of its ilk, none of the multiple non-intersecting storylines stands on its own; hence, the thematic tie has to spit-polish the mediocrity. And to extend this lame metaphor, what Third Person does is like giving a bow tie to the loafers it needs to polish – under certain circumstances, that might be a clever thing, but here it’s just confusing.
I’m getting ahead of myself. Third Person is three tales in three cities. The stories seem independent, and would be if not for some geographical impossibilities.
In Rome, designer thief Scott (Adrien Brody) gets involved with a sexy woman (Katy Louise Saunders) trying to get her kidnapped daughter returned. I’m a little embarrassed for how much movies take Americans for suckers. Not that Americans necessarily act like suckers in movies (though Scott sure does here), but that we buy so easily into the idea that mainland Europe is dangerous and corrupt. That’s right, once you get out of England, all the locals want to do is scam you.
In New York, failed caretaker Julia (Mila Kunis) battles herself for custody. Theoretically, she’s battling a court order, but she’s kind of a queen flake. And do enjoy a bowl of queen flakes. Great breakfast. Yum. Flakes usually aren’t this intense and while she can’t hold down a job, she’s missing some of the other side effects one associates with classic flakes, like childish prioritization rules and voluntary distractions. That said, if you care about your 8-year-old boy more than you care about anything else in life and you have to be at a meeting within proximity at a given time and place to discuss getting custody, you have zero excuses for not being there.
In Paris, writer Michael (Liam Neeson) has an off/on relationship with sex-kitten Anna (Olivia Wilde). The relationship is off/on because Anna seems to change moods every time the camera cuts away to anything. Add to this the fact that the other two stories are about parent/child relationships and then note that Olivia is young enough to be Liam’s daughter and ewwwwwww. KnowwhatI’msayin’? This particular back-and-forth has the best moment in the film when Anna forgives herself an angry dismissal and decides to visit Michael’s hotel room wearing only a bathrobe. The scene turns in a way that would piss off pretty much any woman I know – Michael takes the robe and strands her naked in the hallway, but Anna seems beside herself with giddiness for the failed sexual resolution morphing into exhibitionism. Glad she was happy about it, because that was a serious dick move. Olivia Wilde presents herself naked to you? Doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to get this moment right.
I wish I could say Third Person was as fun as Olivia gone Wilde. It wasn’t. And then it got confusing when the stories mysteriously intersected: acting as a hotel maid, Julia finds herself in Michael’s room … in Paris. For an hour, I thought this was scripting error; instead, it was a completely different type of error.
♪This old man, he played dumb
He got suckered by Roman
With a knick knack Pianist back
When my films were good
This old man in Italian feud
This non-man, she fought through
Trying to get her kid back, too
With a time lack job sack
Can’t make it today
This non-man pisses good away
This old man, he wrote free
Scoring paper on his knee
With a sick semi-Oedipal tack
Give Ms. Wilde the bone
This old man played role by phone♫
Rated R, 137 Minutes
D: Paul Haggis
W: Paul Haggis
Genre: Cleverness
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Anybody claiming to figure out the ending
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: The rest of us
♪ Parody inspired by “This Old Man”
