Review

Review Date: 15-January-06
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Just OK

The Matador (2005)

I'm tempted to write that "The Matador" is a lot of bull, because that would be positively hilarious and my readers have come to expect that of me. But the honest critic must concede that it's not entirely fit to be skewered. This tale of a worn-out assassin (Pierce Brosnan) and a struggling businessman (Greg Kinnear) is a sincere attempt to illustrate the hardships for males of a certain age. (Like so many other recent films, comedic and otherwise, for which Asia's "Heat of the Moment" is apparently the theme song of choice. And now I find myself in '82.) The problem is, writer/director Richard Shepard doesn't just examine the scatterbrained nature of these poor souls, he shows evidence of it himself.

The dramedy of "The Matador" kicks off in Mexico City when nebbishy Everyman Danny Wright strikes up a conversation with sleazy hit man Julian Noble at a hotel bar. Each is a familiar character from life or the movies, but the friendship that ensues renders them unusually implausible. Their only common experience is a sense of being cut off from something worthwhile, which each represents to the other. So, ignoring the warning flags that go up in his mind, Danny accompanies Julian to a bullfight and accepts his admission of being a killer with something akin to admiration, presumably because a killer has the elusive ability to set his own course and live without fear. For his part, Julian appreciates Danny for being so gosh darn average and his only amicable acquaintance at a moment of personal crisis. Their adventures in Mexico and in Denver a few months later are a strange and morally ambiguous mix in which Shepard looks to explore themes of loneliness, honor, and bonding among men. (Noble, Wright, images of luxury and violence — no shortage of meaning here.) Regrettably, it all feels forced, from the deliberately vague connection between Julian and Danny's fortunes to the festive evening Julian spends with Danny and his idealized wife (Hope Davis). Do we accept these characters because they're real or because they suggest things that could be real? The latter is the only choice.

If the situations feel forced, however, the actors miraculously do not. It was a clever move to cast Brosnan as Julian, since his dismissal from the James Bond series on the grounds of age segues nicely into the role of a Lothario whose years of ultra-macho behavior are finally catching up with him. What's more, Brosnan is one of those actors (rare for a looker) who seems perfectly at ease with himself, which enables him to convey derangement and heartbreak with equal conviction. Kinnear also delivers in the less challenging role, assuming his dopiest smile of good-guy congeniality while offering glimpses of the doubt that lurks behind. Through sympathy or craft, they understand what Shepard is trying to say. That they succeed in expressing grains of truth is in spite of, not in accordance with, the picture as a whole.

Copyright © 2006 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.