There are two movies in "Jackie." One of these movies is just OK. The other is exceptional. The first one keeps undermining the second.
The title “Hungry Hearts” is redolent of longing, and of course of Bruce Springsteen, who wrote a similarly-titled song years ago (the object organ was singular, not plural), offered it to The Ramones, got turned down, and made it into a chart hit for himself instead. Catchy tune. That this movie should use a variation on its title strikes me as false advertising. A better name for this movie would maybe be “The Ghastly Ones.”
Directed by Saverio Costanzo, the movie operates at a much higher level of craft than the Andy Milligan cheapie horror picture from which I lifted my suggested title. But it is an equally painful cinematic experience, and it is painful in a completely unrewarding way. It is earnest and tortured and pointless, in a very self-serious suffer-for/with-art fashion. It opens with its lead characters Jude (Adam Driver) and Mina (Alba Rohrwacher) stuck in the bathroom of a Chinese restaurant together. The meet-cute-in-the-era-of-“Girls” dialogue is de rigueur icky/frank, with Jude apologizing for the unpleasant odor of his recent deposit to Mina prior to their rescue. Their awkward shared moment over, they fall into bed with each other, she discovers she’s pregnant, the couple rush to be wed, and at their Coney Island wedding reception scene, the viewer is treated to a shot of a dead deer on the boardwalk outside their hipster-chintzy celebration venue. Symbolism, people.
Because Mina and Jude then move into a dreary walk-up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, just a few blocks from the Dakota, some folks who’ve written about this film have likened it to “Rosemary’s Baby.” This is off-base for several reasons, not the least of which is that you kind of like poor Rosemary in that movie. No, what “Hungry Hearts” most resembles is a nightmare enactment of “Knocked Up”: a couple that barely knows each other decide to embark on child-rearing together. Mina’s eccentricities in these matters are hinted at when she enthusiastically informs Jude that a psychic has deemed their yet-to-be-born baby an “indigo child” (it’s kinda like when a psychic tells you, a person who has already been born, that you have a “blue” aura). Seems harmless enough. Only once the baby’s born, Mina puts it on a weird vegan regimen. Jude doesn’t have the intestinal fortitude to resist this nonsense with any conviction, so he starts taking the kid to a church where he surreptitiously slips him (the kid is never referred to by name) some ham (no, I’m not making this up). Mina retaliates by force-feeding the child some kind of anti-nutrient oil. At this point, you may look at your watch. Imagine your surprise when you learn there’s still about an hour’s worth of movie still to come.
This message came to me from a reader named Peter Svensland. He and a fr...
A piece on the experience gained from seeing bad movies.
A clip of Gene Siskel & Roger Ebert defending Star Wars on ABC.