There are some genres, which certain directors just should not venture into.  Just as Oliver Stone doesn’t make sappy romances and David Lynch doesn’t make period pieces, nor should Cameron Crowe venture into the surreal world outside of his own reality.  His Vanilla Sky is a languishing journey through the world of dreams and reality, which, while beautiful to look at, and well made, is lethargic and boring in it’s setup, and silly and ridiculous in its resolution.  Crowe should stick to what he knows best, his dreamers in reality, rather than exploring the meaning of those dreams during slumber. 

Vanilla Sky is a remake of Alejandro Amenabar’s (The Others) 1996 mind trip, Open Your Eyes.  It is also the second film this year to explore the world that exists when the line between imagination and reality is erased; Lynch’s masterfully twisted Mulholland Drive was the first, and much much better.  Near as can be discerned, the story deals with magazine executive David Aames who falls for a beautiful dancer (Cruz) after she meets his best friend (Lee).  Aames is also involved in a volatile, physical relationship with Julie (Diaz), which leads to the movie’s twist, when they are involved in a car accident that changes everything, or does it?  The remainder of the film is interspersed between scenes of David’s life afterwards, and his counseling sessions with a psychologist (a what the heck is he doing here Kurt Russell). To even try and explain the rest would not only be futile and pointless, but rather difficult, since I’m not even clear even after the conclusion.  It also wouldn’t help, because no explanation can justify the way this movie wraps up, which I will not spoil, but suffice to say, I was in the theater the whole time, and still feel like I missed something.  If you’re going to have a story that hinges on a twist, which will either surprise or clarify, then there is a near cardinal rule that must be followed; keep the audience interested enough to make it to the end, and to want to know what it all means.  This is where Crowe fails miserably.  The story lumbers forward, bouncing between scenes, tossing feeble hints of mystery at us, but never enough to peak any interest.  After a while, we just want the ending to come, not to explain, but just to get the torture over with.  Maybe I missed something, as I said, and maybe this is a film that you either get, or you don’t, but if the filmmakers message is lost, what good is it to deliver it in the first place? There is an underlying theme involving having it all, yet not being happy, finding it, losing it and trying to define it.  These ideas, unfortunately, are drowned amidst the convoluted delivery, very few directors can pull off emotional and surreal, and while Crowe’s attempt is appreciated, it is still unsuccessful.  His ideas are clouded and ultimately drowned amidst in delivery and the attempt to be viscerally stimulating.  Finally, it folds in upon itself and implodes into obscurity with its disappointing, unsatisfying and inane.  Crowe’s movies usually have a consistant lyrical feel about them, flowing smoothly, as the characters seek to find themselves, and while that theme remains, the delivery is uneven and the message is lost amidst it all.  Which is sad, because there may have actually been a strong translation and remake in here somewhere, I’m just not sure Crowe was the right person to tell it.

Usually, the script is the strong point of Crowe’s movies, with the actors following suit with the verbal candy that he has given them, but this time, with the muddled story, the actors seem to be struggling to overcome and understand, and get lost in it all.  Cruise takes a step back, over acting beyond belief almost to the point of annoyance.  He doesn’t play lost and clueless, near as well as he does spoiled, pretty or embittered, characteristics which come across here a bit, but are interspersed with rest of the confusion that gives his performance an imbalanced, uncomfortable feeling while watching.  Cruz and Diaz serve mirror opposite, yet dual purposes as the beautiful temptresses of the tale, and they succeed in being adorable, sexy and irresistible, as the story, or semblance of one, dictates, with Diaz’s bitchiness and vigorous performance, rising slightly above.  The only shining performance amidst the mess is that of the underrated Jason Lee, as Cruises best friend, he seems to be the only one trying to rise above it all with some personality and style to his character. Throw in smaller shining moments from Spall, as Cruise’s attorney, and Tilda Swinton (whose presence will hopefully remind Oscar voters of her performance in the Deep End) and it still cannot keep things steady and afloat.  Crowe does keep one consistency from his other films; the music and look of the film are quite stylish and well done. There are two great shots which bookend the film, a stunning shot of an empty empty Times Square (not effects, but real) and the insertion of the Trade Centers, in a near the end, opinions on this would give away some of the films secrets, but it is still an admirable feat as Hollywood continues to grapple with how to handle the situation.  Unfortunately, in between these shots is a mess, that makes Jacob’s Ladder seem sensible and realistic.  These visual triumphs cannot, however, distract and hide from the mess that otherwise permeates.

Ultimately, Vanilla Sky is an unintentionally confusing and frustrating journey through dreamland, that would make most people just want to go to sleep to avoid confusion. It’s a laborious exercise in futility that wants to elicit wonderment about emotions and feelings, and their validity and basis, but serves only to cloud and already murky issue with convolution and in the end, banal absurdity. I am not sure what Crowe was seeking to accomplish by this departure into Lynchian territory, whether it be to explore new aspects of his film making, or just to show he can do something different, but he should apologize and beat a hasty retreat back to what his strong point of character and dialogue driven exploration of reality based dreams, rather that than surreal ones.  While he is good at showing us real people staying true to beliefs and themselves, he is definitely over his head when straying otherwise, if this effort is any indication.  It’s the difference between the dreams in our sleep, and those in our waking hours.  The entire message of true love and the search for identity and happiness amidst lifes twists, real and imagined, gets turned around, folded and ultimately imploded on itself. While trying to visual, it loses its power to be introspective, and clouds itself up to the point of restless aggravation.  Its twisting ending only muddles things even more to the point of not caring about the depth of the intended social ideals.  I like to consider myself a thinking persons movie viewer, but Vanilla Sky gave me a headache in anticipation, then a heartache at its attempt to be deep and philosophical, becoming no more than a Lynchian science fiction wannabe, with no heart and very little brain.

Open your eyes Mr. Crowe, and when you try something new again, stay a little closer to the world that you know.  . Maybe he should have eased himself into this change of pace, instead of tackling some this complex.  While he has proven that he can handle emotional diversity, the aspect of twisting reality isn’t his strong suit yet.   While the effort is admired, and I will rarely fault the attempt at originality, this was a bit much for him to delve into.  He shows hints of potential, someone this talented cannot help it, but these are overshadowed by this nightmare that just left me tired and empty inside.   I often listen to comments of people as I leave the theater, as sometimes they are the truest telling of alternate perspectives on a film.  Leaving Vanilla Sky, I heard someone say, “I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it”.  Truer words were never spoken while exiting the darkness of confusion.   ($$ out of $$$$$)

Agree? Disagree, Questions? Comments?

Tell Me Here