THE SINGING DETECTIVE (2003) **

Robert Downey, Jr. stars as an author hospitalized with a debilitating bout of psoriasis that covers most of his body.  He refuses pain medication, choosing instead to live inside his own head as his literary creation, the fictional title character.  As the doctors endlessly assess his predicament, Downey’s detective alter ego desperately tries to solve a mystery.

A detective molded in ‘40s film noir who sometimes lip syncs to ‘50s pop music inhabiting a Johnny Got His Gun-style wraparound was going to be a tough sell.  I will say director Keith (The Chocolate War) Gordon’s opening, which sets up the premise is sterling.  It establishes the concept in a brisk and effective manner before allowing Downey to cut loose and do his thing.

Unfortunately, it sort of yields diminishing returns as it rambles on.  As Downey heals, the less interesting his character (and the movie, honestly) becomes.  The gimmick of having his fiction creeping into his reality is uneven too.  Sometimes, the results are gripping (like when his doctors stand around gawking at him oblivious to the fact that he can hear them clearly), while others come off clunky (especially the way Downey’s mother and wife become characters in his fantasy). 

Downey is excellent.  I don’t know many actors who could’ve pulled this off this well for this long.  Even he can’t save the movie.  The supporting cast are pretty much left in the lurch, mostly because they’re given stock characters to play that have no real substance.  An unrecognizable Mel Gibson seems to be having the most fun as Downey’s cantankerous doctor.  His out-of-the-box performance alone is worth a look.  However, the rest of The Singing Detective is much too uneven to be considered a success.