- About   -   Contact   -   Links   -   Tools   -   Archive   -   Film -



Friday, May 13, 2011

For the sake of not having to write the same intro a million different ways throughout the rest of time, just know that this column avoids the overly long and sometimes dull process of full film reviews and instead opts to break things down based on what I thought going in, what happened while I was there and what I learned at the end of it all.  Thanks for reading!




The Breakdown - Everything Must Go

The Impression:


Adapting a Raymond Carver short story for the screen has never been easy for anyone, and to do so as your debut feature seems like a very plausible way of one-timing your entire Hollywood career. Also, casting Will Ferrell as your main character sets you fifteen feet behind the starting line.


The Reality:

Raymond Carver’s short story "Why Don’t You Dance" is barely a story. Yes, it’s deftly and dangerously written by one of the great short fiction writers ever, but there isn’t much to it. A few conversations, some pondering, and then nothing. The short story can be a great place for film adaptation to stem from as the essence of a short story is a great idea, and if given proper respect, these great ideas can be spun out in to great films. Dan Rush might have reached too far in attempting to adapt this specific story though as Everything Must Go fleshes out the story with a lot of cloying muck that soften the edges Carver was so beloved for without adding anything. Will Ferrell plays Nick Halsey, a recovering alcoholic who’s been fired from his job and kicked out of his house by his wife all on the same day. All of his shit has been booted in to the front yard, his car has been repossessed and he’s left with nothing to do and nowhere to go but a chair in his front yard. Halsey, a jock turned soft as played by Ferrell, drinks his way through two-thirds of the film, befriending neighbors and other outcasts (a chubby black kid and toothless homeless guy) before deciding to better himself by selling all of his shit. The film is paced to give meaning, but there isn’t much present, so instead the audience is forced to wallow through nearly two hours of meandering shots and Will Ferrell drinking, but not in a funny way. And here is the capper to my long list of complaints about this film: Will Ferrell can not be in a serious film as a serious character. Not to say I advocate type-casting, but Ferrell’s very persona, his movements, his voice, his aura, are hilarious and trying to shove these down in emotional moments never works. The only moments from the film I clearly remember are the ones where I was inappropriately laughing at Will Ferrell. And that’s a bad thing.


The Lesson:

Two-fold: stay away from Raymond Carver adaptations unless you are Robert Altman. And, stop trying to make a serious actor out of yourself Ferrell, it’s completely impossible for you to do so.



- Noah Sanders -



Unless otherwise expressly stated, all text in this blog and any related pages, including the blog's archives, is licensed by John Laird under a Creative Commons License.