Boulevard

The post-mortality production quest is really quite sad, no? Whether well-intentioned or cashing-in, it’s impossible not to advertise a film as “the last” for an actor or actress who is no longer with us, hence the films themselves seem sad reflections on a career rather than individual achievements. Boulevard may as well be the primary case study in this phenomena; Robin Williams is so morose and regretful in this film, it’s like it was made after the fact.

Nolan (Williams) and Joy (Kathy Baker) are a childless aging couple; the slightest hint of somber accompanies the camera description of their empty-ish lives – a two story house with little sign of wear, separate bedrooms, separate paths. Nolan has worked in the same bank for 25 years; he’s up for a promotion and transfer, but doesn’t seem invested in the idea. He and Joy are a team, sort of – they support one another and entertain together – it’s hard to get around the separate bedroom thing.

One night, Nolan is returning from the onerous responsibility of visiting his father in a nursing home when he decides to – well, it’s hard to tell here – why, exactly, does Nolan pull a very late night u-ey on a six lane Boulevard to check out the street fellas? Does he know they’re prostitutes? Does he just want to clear his mind of elderly home care? In his half-hearted gawking, Nolan almost hits Leo (Roberto Aguire); the apology turns into an offer and acceptance. Nolan and Leo go to an hourly motel together and do … nothing. Nolan even balks at Leo stripping. Ok, so what’s going on here?

Act II gets more confusing, not less. Nolan increases his attention and his investment; he even pulls strings to get Leo a day job waiting tables. Still, nothing sexual transpires. Does Leo represent a surrogate son? A missing childhood? Miss-spent or well-spent youth? There’s a quality between he and Leo that he’s not getting from his wife, father, or friends and it’s not sexual – or is it?

Boulevard is a slow-moving study in infidelity. The movie seems to be poking us, prodding us – is it infidelity when you have separate bedrooms? No? Ok, How about when you have separate bedrooms and think about other people? No? Maybe? How about when you start lying? Yes? How about when you pay for a prostitute but make no contact? How about when the prostitute gets naked? I don’t pretend to know the answers here; I just recognize the questions. And all the time Robin Williams is glum – a sour expression from somebody who looks like even he’s missed out on his mid-life crisis. Hang in there, Robin; things will get better.

Ode to Robin

I remember you as Mork
When you were just a dork
I remember you with Will
When Oscar fit the bill

I remember your genie
All others were teeny
I remember your Garp
No need to harp

I remember you in drag
Your last funny gag?
I remember you as poet
“My Captain,” we all know it

But everybody remembers these things. I also remember your manic and almost certainly drug-induced Johnny Carson appearances. I remember moving performances in Awakenings and Good Morning, Vietnam. Also, I remember the truly dreadful like Toys and Hook; I remember rooting for you even when the films were bad. And they were bad a lot of late; I’m not sure you made me laugh this century. And yet, I’d call your tour-de-force in World’s Greatest Dad the best role of your distinguished career.

No, I didn’t always appreciate what you shared, but I will miss you all the same.

Rated R, 88 Minutes
D: Dito Montiel
W: Douglas Soesbe
Genre: Grave Robin
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The kind of people who lobbied for the rename of the Waldo Tunnel
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Those who live in denial