J. Mark Price
STAFF WRITER
Review
Upon watching Twilight, I found myself on a veritable rollercoaster of opinions concerning the goings-on in this film. I am not exaggerating when I say I cannot remember ever seeing a film I felt this conflicted about. One moment I would find myself silently congratulating the filmmakers on the mostly razor-sharp dialogue. The next I was wondering just how many bottles of tequila were consumed by the screenwriters as they crafted some of what I think were supposed to be the impressively complex plot twists.
What is most frustrating is that beneath the veneer of this mixed bag is a damn good film trying to break free. It flexes some well-developed acting muscles, tosses out dry, funny dialogue throughout, but ultimately trips and falls over its film-noir pretensions.
I probably would find more kindness in my heart if I had not recently seen L. A. Confidential, a 1997 offering of similar structure and styling and an infinitely better film.
Twilight is set in modern-day Los Angeles, but the voiceover narration by the story's main character, a retired private investigator, evokes the feel of the 1950's-era noir crime stories. The grossly convoluted plot finds the P.I. (Paul Newman) living in the home of two once-great movie stars two years after tracking down their under-age daughter playing hooky in Mexico with an older boyfriend.
The P.I. is down on his luck, and the grateful father (Gene Hackman) befriends him and encourages him to stay. The inevitable affair between Newman's P.I. and the girl's mother (Susan Sarandon) is consummated against an unbelievably dense backdrop of new murders, old murders, grisly murders, mundane and uncompelling mystery premises and an endless array of supporting characters that may or may not have had something to do with the dire happenings.
There is way too much going on here to keep the story tight; the filmmakers are just not that talented. This constitutes a huge shame because the screenwriters (Robert Benton and Richard Russo) who managed to bungle the plot so thoroughly somehow managed to write some of the finest dialogue I've heard on screen in some time. And when you have top-shelf actors like Newman and Hackman delivering the lines, it makes for some tremendously good independent scenes.
There are any number of conversations involving Newman, Sarandon, Hackman, Stockard Channing and James Garner that stand tall in terms of quality and intensity. I found it frustrating that the threadbare plot mostly dilutes these strong performances.
Newman is very good here. It is to his credit that he slings the entire film on his back at times and carries it through the muck. He is as cool as ice in his role as the embattled P.I. and lends the film much of its appeal. Hackman as compelling as always, although he is severely underused.
Sarandon is fine, although I will never understand why some people find this woman attractive. Here she is cast as the aging but still magnificent screen siren, and her continuing allure is one of the plot's foundational blocks. I think this calls for a great deal of imagination.
Channing and Garner both pop up in supporting roles and give the film additional depth. Garner is particularly interesting here, taking on a darker character than we usually associate with him.
If Benson had put together a screenplay of the same caliber as the performances he got out of his actors, we'd have a very good film here. That is far from the case, however, and you might find a better use for your seven bucks elsewhere.