Office Christmas Party
Another reminder that allowing your cast to madly improvise instead of actually providing a coherent script with a scintilla of inherent logic often leads to…
A film is a terrible thing to waste. For Roman Coppola to waste one on "A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III" is a sad sight to behold. I'll go further. For Charlie Sheen to waste a role in it is also a great pity.
I stop not: For Bill Murray to occupy his time in this dreck sandwich is a calamity. Of Charlie Sheen, we've seen more than enough, at least until he gets his act together. But there's a sad shortage of Bill Murray performances, and his work here is telephoned in as if Thomas Alva Edison had never been born.
Sheen plays a caricature of his public persona in a production design beyond his wildest dreams. Elliot Hostetter. Remember that name. The feverish colors and images that he conjures up in "Charles Swan" are the reason I kept watching, ready to examine every scene for its look but not its content. At times I caught myself trying to look beyond the actors, annoyed that they were blocking valuable background space.
Every detail has been pushed to 11 on the "Spinal Tap" scale. Take Charles' classic Cadillac. Its seductive curves have been restored not merely to how it looked coming off the assembly line, but to represent how it looked in its designer's imagination. On one side, Charles has painted two eggs. On the other side, two strips of bacon. What were you expecting? A horse and carriage?