Atlantis Sinks

Five years ago, a director named Scott Hicks was the talk of the town--he had completed the dark and inspiring Shine, a noble film. Since then he has slouched--twice. First he gave us the slowest film of 1999, Snow Falling on Cedars. This year, Hicks gives us the sappiest film of 2001 (so far): Hearts in Atlantis.

Ted Brautgian (Anthony Hopkins), is a mysterious drifter who moves into the upstairs apartment of Elizabeth Garfield (Hope Davis). Elizabeth has a son named Bobby (Anton Yelchin). Bobby is a boy with troubles--his father was a drunken gambler and his widowed mother is a workaholic who has little regard for her son--except for the impulse to control him. We are never given any explanation for why Elizabeth is that way--she just seems to be a control freak by nature. It's an empty caricature.

The same cannot be said of Hopkins' and Yelchin's characters--both are exceptionally well developed and well acted. Hopkins' voice captures the mystery of the character, it's one of his best performances and he fits so well that it is hard to see any other actor in the part. Yelchin is also strong. He brings William Goldman's inept screenplay to life, giving the words more believability than they deserve. That's an impressive accomplishment in itself--the usually reliable Goldman has given us children who talk like adults and adults who act like children. Nice idea--it doesn't work.

At the heart of the film is the relationship between Hopkins and Yelchin. The old man serves as a kind of mentor to the young boy, helping him to adjust not only to a life without a father, but a life with such a louse of a mother. He also teaches Bobby things--including the secret behind his special powers. The story is in general heartwarming and interesting--it's based on a Stephen King novel. Even Hicks' hapless direction cannot muck that up.

But Hicks' direction can give us a meandering conclusion, an all-too-obvious possible pedophilic moment, faceless supporting characters and a final nostalgic scene that we've seen many times (twice already in this film). Hearts is like an old car engine that's been driven Otill the gas tank ran dry. It warms up (slowly), runs smoothly for a while and then sputters to a stop, desperate to go just one more mile. It's a depressing conclusion to what was becoming a fun film.

Unfortunately, when it's all said and done, Hearts is no longer a heartwarming story, just nostalgia for nostalgia's sake.

--By Martin Barna