Like government aid to Puerto Rico, the good stuff came far-too-little-far-too-late to save Serenity, a film in which we realize sullen, sociopathic Matthew McConaughey is just as stomach-churning as hey-hey-all-right-all-right-devil-may-care Matthew McConaughey. I’m glad your boating days have evolved past Fool’s Gold, Caddy Matty (sounds better than “Lincoln-y Matty”), but years from now, we’re still gonna associate Serenity with “Firefly,” knowwhatI’msayin’?
Baker Dill (McConaughey) is the Forrest Gump of Plymouth Island, which is to say he’s an idiot. Seriously, I meant to say he’s a fishing boat captain. He has become so obsessed with a giant tuna he’s dubbed “justice” that he will spoil high-paying customer trips to land his fish. Doncha worry, when he comes home penniless, he can always earn some love money from Diane Lane. Yes, this film was written and directed by a man.
It’s pretty clear that Dill doesn’t like his life … or anything else for that matter. Yeah, that’ll sure endear you to an audience. What doesn’t bring you to the docks like: “He’s a sourpuss jerk who spends his cash on alcohol and chasing his white whale.” The movie tempers Dill with his own Gilligan in Djimon Hounsou, but this relationship isn’t well considered; Dill displays zero loyalty with the only guy who will consistently tolerate his antics.
Meanwhile, there’s, Jeremy Strong, a lawyer, banker, no, seriously, this guy is a three-piece-suited fishing equipment salesman who has been chasing Dill down for days. Why? And Christ, man, how hard are you trying? The camera finds McConaughey in every scene; why can’t you? Kinda ironic, isn’t it? Trying to sell 1970s Coleco-vision technology on finding fish to the one “fish” you can’t find.
And just when we’ve had enough of the sullen routine, Serenity offered two even worse characters for our disapproval – a nondescript femme fatale (Anne Hathaway) and the mark, her wife-beating husband (Jason Clarke). The lack of chemistry between Oscar winners McConaughey and Hathaway is something that has to be seen to be believed. You know when you’re checking your watch while there’s a sex scene going on between Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway that you’re not watching a landmark achievement in direction.
Now, that all said, Act III wasn’t terrible, and it started with an attempt at a mind-blowing conversation. Had the film not been a noir-wannabe, Hitchcock-wannabe piece of crap up to this point, there might have been something to take home here. But like I said above, it’s too-little-too-late. The audience is long bored and unimpressed by the time you get to the conversation piece. Oscar winners, why not show up ready to put some effort in next time. Is that asking too much, huh?
I know what you folks are wishing
To capture cinemagic dishing
For action, just wait
All you need is bait
Cuz what’s more exciting than fishing?
Rated R, 106 Minutes
Director: Steven Knight
Writer: Steven Knight
Genre: Just wait! I’m gonna blow your mind. Sorta.
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Matthew McConaughey’s agent
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Fans of noir
