MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997) **

I’ve been wanting to watch some Clint Eastwood movies I hadn’t seen before.  I chose this one based on the strength of the cast.  I mean who wouldn’t want to see John Cusack teamed up with Christopher Plummer?   

Cusack stars as a New York reporter who goes to Savannah, Georgia to do a story on a lavish Christmas party held by the eccentric Plummer.  During the party, his lover (Jude Law) storms in demanding money.  Later, he winds up dead and Plummer is charged for murder.  Cusack decides to stick around and cover the story. 

I never read the book this was based on, but supposedly, Cusack’s character was an invention of the screenwriters.  He’s only there to act as a tour guide to the various oddballs and eccentrics that populate the movie.  One guy walks an invisible dog, an old lady performs voodoo ceremonies in a cemetery, a trans nightclub performer constantly hits on Cusack, and an old coot carries around a vial of poison and threatens to taint the town’s water supply.  I don’t know if they were going for Twin Peaks Down South or what.  All I know is that the elements never quite gel.   

The reporter device doesn't really pay off.  It hinges on people telling Cusack information about other character instead of showing us what they’re all about.  This gossipy stuff might’ve worked in the book, but this a movie.  You have to show, not tell.  

It’s mildly amusing in the first half when we’re being introduced to the assorted bunch of colorful characters.  It’s when the film settles down into its long-winded courtroom scenes that much of the energy drains out of it.  Ultimately, the plot is just too dawdling, and the pacing far too languid to make it entertaining. 

This was an odd choice for Clint.  It kind of goes against the grain of his strengths and sensibilities.  Maybe he was trying to stretch as a director and show he could do more Oscar bait-y type of material.  To quote Dirty Harry, a man’s got to know his limitations. 

Plummer is so aloof that it becomes hard to root for his character.  Since you never really care about him, it's consequently hard to care whether he’s guilty or not.  In one scene he has a monologue about no one understanding his special “bond” with a much younger man.  Life doesn’t imitate art much, does it? 

Cusack gets the best line of the movie when he describes the situation to his editor:  “It’s like Gone with the Wind on mescaline!”