The Jacket (2005)

Plot: Jack Starks (Adrien Brody) receives a head wound in the first Gulf War and develops retrograde amnesia as a result. Back home in Vermont, he is framed for murdering a cop and ends up in an institution for the criminally insane. Dr. Thomas Becker (Kris Kristofferson) chooses Jack for an experimental sensory deprivation treatment wherein Jack is put in a full body straight jacket and locked inside a morgue drawer. While inside, Jack sees another life, this one involving Jackie Price (Keira Knightley).

Second movie I've gone to see for the male lead[s] despite this particularly leading lady. I don't want to feel like I'm personally forwarding her career, but sometimes I wonder.

Knightley's attempt at an ingenue is not to be rewarded. Her character was over-the-top, just like her American accent which simply involved speaking in a poorly suited, exaggeratedly deep voice. There was nothing compelling about a character that was supposed to be broken and ends up coming across as bratty.

Wait, that's Mischa Barton's Marissa. Holy crap, kid, that's never something to aspire to be.

Brody was fantastic, though, every bit as frustrated and confused and angry and lonely and lovely as he needed to be. I felt bad that he is so much and can do so much, but the script didn't give him clear direction one way or the other. Sometimes it was a thriller, sometimes it was a love drama, sometimes it was both, sometimes it was neither. Because of the consummate actor I believe him to be, I believe he tried to fit his character into the whatever the movie was trying to be at that particular moment, so he can't be held accountable if it didn't all jive.

Jennifer Jason Leigh was there to hand me a beautifully understated performance combined with a bad dye job, and Daniel Craig stole the show with his scary physical chameleon-ness. If it weren't for those eyes, I'd never recognize him.

I didn't really understand where they were going with Craig's character. I thought, "So, what, everyone can do it? Are they supposed to be connected in some way? What does he see?", but, alas, those questions go unanswered.

Oooo, Brad Renfro and Steven Mackintosh were around as well! Hurrah!

Kristofferson gave it the old college try, but I felt like he was distancing himself. Maybe he was trying to do that through his character, a man divided between his paternal desire to help heal wounded souls and the more justice-minded desire to punish criminals for their sins.

Jay Maybury (director) and Peter Deming (cinematographer) kept the camera moving, lulling us with desolate and sterile winter landscapes and the griminess of the world around them. Maybury's a video director at heart, but it works for him here. The middle doesn't start sagging like it should, and he throws all his energy into keeping you from getting bored.

Although, and this is just a knit-picky point, but when you film a movie in Canada that isn't set in Canada, you should try to avoid having Canadian road signs in the frame. It's just a thought.

But, oh, Massy Tadjedin's screenplay. Gaping holes and leaps in logic abound. She wrote a great main character but neglected to fill in the rest. Also, what was the Jack-Jackie-Jacket combo supposed to signify? Is Jack the necessary prerequisite for them both?

Perhaps. B

P.S. I got to experience an entirely empty movie theatre for the first time this week-end. Joy!