Artificial Intelligence
Wanting desperately to be an adult, classy art movie, p.s. is the worst kind of art house flick: dull, boring, and thoroughly unlikable.
Writer and director Dylan Kidd's follow up to Rodger Dodger takes as its conceit the idea that the only thing standing in the way of true love are the lovers. And what roadblocks are set for this May-October romance between young art student F. Scott Feinstadt (Topher Grace of That 70s Show) and 30-something grad school admissions officer Louise Harrington (Laura Linney) are a result the duo's disgusting lack of humanity.
The movie gets rolling with a gimmicky mystical coincidence—Feinstadt not only has the same name as a long dead boyfriend of Louise's but looks like him as well. The two connect immediately—why is not really clear since Feinstadt is a twerp and Louise is a bit too sophisticated to be chasing a young stud—have sex and then hit the rocks. In addition, we see Louise have a rather ugly interaction with her mother and ex-addict brother. And watch as she learns a horrifying secret from her lothario ex-husband (Gabriel Bryne), which drew snickers from the preview audience. Added to the mix is Louise's best friend Missy Goldberg (Marcia Gay Harden) who is vying for the young stud.
Louise does everything in her power to sabotage her relationship with her reincarnated lover, including an absolutely cruel scene in which she lays out an alternative, non-artistic life to Feinstadt. Linney perfects her hateful, disillusioned professional woman here—which she has been working on over her last several roles—as she digs her claws into Feinstadt's soul. Feinstadt is not an innocent himself, retaliating by destroying Louise's delusions of her past with the first Feinstadt.
It's pretty grim stuff. But there is a sense that the movie was supposed to be a comedy or at least play like one. There are a couple of amusing moments, but Harden, who is obviously supposed to be the comic center of the piece, is either overrated or horribly miscast. In the end, as the lovers decide to make a go of it, we really don't care. Neither lover is engaging, funny or even nice, which makes their happiness seem artificial (the script was co-written by Kidd and Helen Schulman from her novel of the same name).
Writer and director Dylan Kidd's follow up to Rodger Dodger takes as its conceit the idea that the only thing standing in the way of true love are the lovers. And what roadblocks are set for this May-October romance between young art student F. Scott Feinstadt (Topher Grace of That 70s Show) and 30-something grad school admissions officer Louise Harrington (Laura Linney) are a result the duo's disgusting lack of humanity.
The movie gets rolling with a gimmicky mystical coincidence—Feinstadt not only has the same name as a long dead boyfriend of Louise's but looks like him as well. The two connect immediately—why is not really clear since Feinstadt is a twerp and Louise is a bit too sophisticated to be chasing a young stud—have sex and then hit the rocks. In addition, we see Louise have a rather ugly interaction with her mother and ex-addict brother. And watch as she learns a horrifying secret from her lothario ex-husband (Gabriel Bryne), which drew snickers from the preview audience. Added to the mix is Louise's best friend Missy Goldberg (Marcia Gay Harden) who is vying for the young stud.
Louise does everything in her power to sabotage her relationship with her reincarnated lover, including an absolutely cruel scene in which she lays out an alternative, non-artistic life to Feinstadt. Linney perfects her hateful, disillusioned professional woman here—which she has been working on over her last several roles—as she digs her claws into Feinstadt's soul. Feinstadt is not an innocent himself, retaliating by destroying Louise's delusions of her past with the first Feinstadt.
It's pretty grim stuff. But there is a sense that the movie was supposed to be a comedy or at least play like one. There are a couple of amusing moments, but Harden, who is obviously supposed to be the comic center of the piece, is either overrated or horribly miscast. In the end, as the lovers decide to make a go of it, we really don't care. Neither lover is engaging, funny or even nice, which makes their happiness seem artificial (the script was co-written by Kidd and Helen Schulman from her novel of the same name).
