Having done one-too-many period pieces, she appears too complacent, and her characterization lacks spark (perhaps her next film ought to be one set in the present). Though she's pivotal to the story, she has little to do but look sublime. Knightley, on the other hand, feels like she belongs but she's window dressing. Pitt is miscast he belongs so much in the slacker 21st century that he looks like he's playing dress-up. What feels like poetry turns portentous, and, while the film celebrates commitment and devotion in its own way, in the end the director doesn't come up with much of an answer to his own question.Īlfred Molina gives of the movie's few energetic performances. Does Herve have to venture halfway around the world to find true passion, or is it right in his back yard (or, rather, garden)? But the film lingers too long on every scene, undercutting Girard's vision. Director Francois Girard attempts to examine what binds two people together, a connection as ephemeral as silk threads. But visuals alone can't carry the tale, and while this adaptation of Alessandro Baricco's novel starts out promisingly, it's ultimately too lightweight to satisfy. Though free of heroin and cocaine since the late 1980s, he was also without the punishing restaurant routines he had relied on to stave off his demons.SILK is beautiful to stare at: The landscape shots, especially, have the look and feel of mournful paintings. Having attained in midlife a fame he distrusted and a title - celebrity chef - he despised, Bourdain wavered between euphoric family man and fretful workaholic. Midnight Cowboy is a 1969 American drama film, based on the 1965 novel of the same name by James Leo Herlihy.The film was written by Waldo Salt, directed by John Schlesinger, and stars Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight, with notable smaller roles being filled by Sylvia Miles, John McGiver, Brenda Vaccaro, Bob Balaban, Jennifer Salt, and Barnard Hughes. Those words, punchy and aromatic, spill from Bourdain’s books, his television shows and multiple public appearances as Neville wrangles a personality, and archive footage, that’s almost too much for one film to corral. Yet it was as a writer that he found renown, and it is around his words that “Roadrunner” constructs its ominous, uneasy shape. Bourdain, who died almost exactly three years ago at the age of 61, was many things - chef, sensualist, addict, world traveler - any one of which could have served as the movie’s lodestar.
There’s scarcely a dry eye in the frame at the conclusion of Morgan Neville’s vivid, jam-packed documentary, “ Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain,” but this isn’t a hagiography.
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