Leonard Cohen: Bird on a Wire
Palmer's film is that rare concert doc that isn't for established fans only.
I have to train myself to stop expecting plausibility in films. After all, I'm the guy who argues that nothing is implausible in a film if it works, since it's all part of getting the job done. And yet in the opening scene of "Addicted to Love'' I was struggling. Astronomers have a telescope trained on a supernova. Then suddenly it's noon and the chief astronomer (Matthew Broderick) lowers the telescope until he can focus on the woman he loves (Kelly Preston) frolicking in a meadow with the students she teaches.
Huh? I'm thinking. They can see the stars through that telescope at high noon? I should have taken the clue right there. Then I wouldn't have been distracted a little later, when Preston announces she wants to leave their small town and spend some time in New York City, and as her commuter plane taxis to take off, Broderick races beside it down the runway in his pickup truck, waving goodbye. I think that's against FAA regulations.
So look. I'm not being fair to the movie. It's obviously a romantic fantasy, and only a curmudgeon would nitpick. What bothered me more was that the characters are supposed to be intelligent, and yet they have the maturity of gnats. It is always a problem in a love story when the rival seems more interesting than the hero, and that's what happens here.
But let's back up. Broderick plays Sam, the astronomer, who follows his lifelong love Linda (Preston) to the big city, where she has gone because she finds small-town life stagnating. Sam tracks her down by canvassing residential hotels until he finds the right one (don't try this yourself unless you have lots of time). Then he discovers that Linda is dating a French chef named Anton (Tcheky Karyo). In fact, she's moving in with him.