
In the last twenty years, since the debut of David Lynch's BLUE VELVET in 1986, there has been a growing subgenre of films that explore the dark underside of suburbia. These works have been of varying quality with some receiving rapturous reviews and accolades (AMERICAN BEAUTY, which in my humble opinion was overrated) while others are dismissed as the misguided efforts that they were (this year's THE QUIET, for instance). Once again the subject matter arrives on the big screen in LITTLE CHILDREN, this time complete with a literary pedigree as this is an adaptation of Tom Perrotta's acclaimed 2004 novel of the same name. Perrotta worked on the screenplay with director Todd Field and the result is on par with the debacle that Michael Cunningham created when he adapted his novel A HOME AT THE END OF THE WORLD for the screen. I know that my opinion about LITTLE CHILDREN as a film doesn't quite dovetail with those of many of my esteemed colleagues, but that's what makes this work so interesting. One man's trash is another's treasure; certainly I have championed films that many other critics have dismissed. Before it is assumed I have an axe to grind, I was among those who lauded Field's debut IN THE BEDROOM (although in retrospect and in subsequent viewings, I identified more than a few flaws). Still, the movie announced an intriguing voice in American film. On paper, the follow-up of LITTLE CHILDREN seemed a nice match, but from the film's opening scene when an ill-advised and badly used omniscient narrator is employed, I was squirming in my seat and checking my watch. In interviews, Field has implied that this narrative voice is in homage to Stanley Kubrick (with whom he worked on EYES WIDE SHUT). Well, great, there's nothing wrong with stealing from a master, but in this cast the voice-over is a gimmick. It is telling us the audience what the character is thinking and feeling and it undercuts the performances. The second major misstep is in the casting. Kate Winslet is a fine actress but she is too attractive to play the lead role of Sarah Pierce. Even with frizzy hair and dressed in lumpish overalls, Winslet radiates a glow that is at odds with the character. Yes, the actress has the requisite intelligence that Sarah is supposed to project, but she lacks a certain recklessness and self-absorbing quality that is needed. She's also anything put plain or boyish as we are told by that damned narrator. Winslet struggles to make something memorable of the character who embarks on an adulterous affair with a stay-at- home dad (a pallid Patrick Wilson), but the screenplay defeats her. It doesn't help that there are many references to MADAME BOVARY which insult the audience's intelligence and feel shoehorned in to try to make the viewer more sympathetic to Sarah and her adultery. (There's really no correlation between the two women as Flaubert's heroine is a tragic one and Sarah isn't.) In the novel, Perrotta attempted to create a world that existed just prior to the terrorist attacks of 9/11 but the film has dispensed with that. He and Field have kept the arrival of a convicted sex offender (Jackie Earle Haley) in the community, but whereas the book made the character a bit sympathetic and kept the audience at bay about his guilt, the film makes his intentions clear from his first appearance at a public pool filled with children. There's also a first date with a troubled woman portrayed luminously by Jane Adams that ends badly. Haley's character, though, doesn't really have much heft to him and one of his big moments is so predictable from the film's opening shots that my eyes glazed over when it finally occurred. Jennifer Connelly is on hand as Wilson's wife, a documentary filmmaker whose action emasculate her spouse. Connelly, too, is miscast in this role, lacking the edge the character needs. (The role has also been abbreviated giving the performer less of a chance to make an impression with audiences.) Noah Emmerich is adequate as the local cop with a secret who has made it his mission to torment Haley's pervert while Phyllis Somerville has a few moments as Haley's overprotective and devoted mother. In addition to the ill-advised use of the omniscient narrator, LITTLE CHILDREN runs on too long at close to two and a half hours. There are many sequences that are extraneous (such as a football game) which either could have been completely excised or trimmed. Like so many recent movies, LITTLE CHILDREN proved to be a disappointment. |

| Little Children |

| © 2006 by C. E. Murphy. All Rights Reserved. |