All Things Fall Apart Blu-ray Review
Those Left Behind
Reviewed by Michael Reuben, February 12, 2012
Looking solely at the credits for
All Things Fall Apart (hereafter "
ATFA"), one could
easily be pardoned for seeing a vanity star vehicle for rapper Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson, who plays the lead,
wrote the story, co-scripted, co-produced and contributed substantially to the soundtrack. (Mario
Van Peebles directed.) That's certainly what my colleague
Brian Orndorf saw, who, as of this
moment, is the only movie reviewer with a rating at
Rotten
Tomatoes.
And that fact alone is striking. What kind of "star vehicle" receives so little promotion that
there's only one review on the eve of its theatrical release? For that matter, what kind of "star
vehicle" is handled not by a major studio, not even by a secondary operation like Starz, Lionsgate
or Summit, but through Image Entertainment, the venerable video distributor that only
occasionally dips its toe into theatrical exhibition? And what kind of "star vehicle" goes to cable
TV first, then gets a limited theatrical release day and date with its release on Blu-ray and DVD?
I agree with Brian that
ATFA is flawed, and I also agree that Jackson's range as an actor is
limited (which isn't necessarily a fatal flaw, by the way; under the old studio system, many a
successful acting career was built on limited range). But I disagree that the film itself, while
constructed of familiar elements, is a "hackneyed, stilted production . . . crying out for just a
smidge of invention that would enliven the story". Indeed, my colleague himself identifies one
such "smidge" later in his review when discussing the subplot in which Jackson's character,
Deon, steals the girl on whom his younger brother has a crush, thereby revealing Deon to be
"utterly heartless". Yes, that's right. Jackson's supposedly tragic "hero" is, in fact, a spoiled,
self-centered jock, whose every whim is indulged, and the film doesn't stint on showing his
unattractive qualities before knocking him flat on his ass. What my colleague found "baffling", I
found interesting—maybe not exactly "inventive" (jocks with a sense of entitlement being a
stock figure in American culture), but an instant source of conflict with intriguing dramatic
potental.
There's a lot crammed into
ATFA, and it's too much. The film's main failing is an inability to
harmonize its disparate themes into a unified chorus. As a result, both the script and the director
have to "force" moments that should arise naturally from the story and the material, but that
doesn't make the movie dull or the effort worthless. The themes are still important, especially for
the youthful audience most likely to turn out for a movie featuring Curtis Jackson.
Jackson reportedly based the story of
ATFA on the experience of a friend, which may be part of
the problem right there. If a writer is too close to a story, it's easy to lose objectivity. Whatever
the reason, there are three interweaving plot lines running through the film, and although they're
obviously connected, as a viewer you often feel like you're being bounced among different
movies.
First, there's the family story of Deon Barnes (Jackson), a star running back in his senior year of
a football scholarship at an unnamed university in the Midwest (probably Michigan, where
exteriors where shot); his younger brother, Sean (Cedric Sanders), also a student at the same
school, who has lived in Deon's shadow his whole life; their mother, Bee (Lynn Whitfield), who
owns a bar and runs a catering service; and their stepfather, Eric (Van Peebles), who owns a car
repair shop. The entire family dynamic has been skewed by Bee's obvious preference for her
first-born and her hopes (and later, Eric's) for the advantages that Deon's natural athletic prowess
can bring to the family. In scene after scene,
ATFA shows the problematic repercussions that
flow from the peculiar bubble in which Deon's family have isolated him, with the complicity of his
coach, teammates and school authorities: a bubble reserved for the very few, where enormous
pressures are applied for some things (because so many others are resting their hopes and dreams
and frustrations on one young man) and other pressures are removed entirely (because no one
cares whether he attends class, gets decent grades or treats any woman with respect other than his
mother). The toll on Deon's brother, Sean, who happens to be very smart, works just as hard, and
probably has better long-term prospects than a football player, is especially heavy.
The second plot line is the struggle for a family like the Barnes to maintain a hold on a middle
class existence in modern America. The economy is poor, jobs are scarce and the future is
uncertain. The professor in Sean's economics class (Hugh Maguire) talks to his students about
China, "green jobs" and skills for the next wave of development. Eric, whose own football career
never took off, counsels Deon to have something to fall back on, but he doesn't, and neither does
the family. They've staked everything on Deon's success as a professional athlete, but that
prospect vanishes with Deon's cancer diagnosis. Like far too many people in America, their life
plan was a long shot, a lotto ticket, a brass ring that everyone thinks they can grasp and almost no
one actually does. When the dream vanishes, the family awakens to find itself deeply in debt.
The third plot line is timely and critical: the impact of catastrophic illness on the typical
American household, including physical, financial and psychic tolls. That the illness depicted in
the film is cancer, as opposed to a sports-related injury, is appropriate, because the statistics are
inescapable: Cancer, in one of its many varieties, is a disease that every American who will see
the film (or is reading these words) will almost certainly encounter at some point in his or her
life, either personally or through a close friend or family member. When it happens to you (if it
hasn't already), you will make the acquaintance of the treatment industry represented by Dr.
Brintall (Ray Liotta) in
ATFA, along with various supporting players. Now, I'm sufficiently
familiar with this industry to pronounce the film's depiction of it as accurate, but I also disagree
with my colleague's characterization of the industry as "vampiric". Nor does Dr. Brintall
anywhere admit that he "bleeds patients dry of their insurance money". (I double-checked the
dialogue.) What the film shows is a health care system with a protocol for treating cancer that's
the best thing we have (and isn't that great). You're diagnosed, you're offered the treatment, and
if you say go ahead (which almost everyone does), the protocol kicks in. The film depicts the
consequences from the patient's side, much as Mike Nichols and Emma Thompson did in their
2001 film of
Wit (based on the Pulitizer Prize-winning play), with the key difference being
that Bee and Eric are self-employed, which means they have to foot the bills directly.
Every one of these plot lines could have filled a film on its own, but
ATFA stresses each so
heavily at alternate points that it leaves itself with the impossible task of bringing all of them to a
satisfying resolution. The burden falls on the actor playing Deon, and it's an impossible task that
would have defeated even a young Marlon Brando. Leave aside the ability to
act it; who could
devise a convincing
narrative that allows Deon to reconcile with his brother and heal his
family, fix their financial future, say goodbye to his old life and embrace whatever the future holds—all
in the third act of a two-hour film? You'd need a miniseries (at least). So we're stuck with the
ending we have, which I won't try to describe other than to say that it plays like a dream
sequence, because it's so at odds with the film's otherwise realistic texture.
Elsewhere I've discussed Mario
Van Peebles' career as a director, and
ATFA's lack of focus is
surprising from a filmmaker whose previous work has never lacked for focus. But as revealed in
an intriguing
interview posted by Blu-ray.com's Josh
Katz, Van Peebles was initially recruited to
the project solely as an actor and only later persuaded to helm the project as a director-for-hire.
His chief task seems to have been coaching Jackson's performance as Deon. Still,
ATFA's
sense of a larger economic context is oddly reminiscent of the critique of Reaganomics that Van
Peebles managed to evoke in
New Jack City, and it's entirely possible that Van Peebles'
involvement actually contributed to the film's sense of being overstuffed, especially once they
got into the editing room.
Ultimately, though, I'm more engaged by filmmakers who try to deal with important subjects and
fail than those who repeat the same slick formulas of guns, drugs and get rich or die trying. I
don't know whether Curtis Jackson will ever find his footing as a movie star, but I like the
territory he's exploring.
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