If you love Patricia Clarkson as I do (and, seriously, why wouldn’t you?), then you’ve probably already seen Pieces of April; and if you haven’t, you should. Ms. Clarkson delivers a left-hook of a performance that adeptly weaves between bitter sarcasm and genuine care. From her first scene in the film to the final frame you will find yourself on full alert waiting for what she will say or do next. Sadly, I cannot say the same for Katie Holmes. While I wouldn’t go so far as to describe Ms. Holmes’ performance as flat, you could easily convince me that she is the most uninteresting character in the entire film. Me thinks this spells doom for a movie when your audience adamantly desires to see considerably less of the film’s title character.
As for other elements of the film, I recognize that Pieces of April didn’t have a substantial budget, but does this necessarily excuse its grainy picture and complete lack of soundtrack (well, actually it does, but can’t a boy want more)? I could have accepted the spotty lensing if the screenplay provided something more interesting to focus my attention on. Sadly, the story is replete with overly-contrived and, at times, nonsensical plot elements. Excluding Clarkson’s spot-on jaded humor, the film’s every attempt to gain a laugh consistently fails. Perhaps what I found most frustrating was the filmmakers’ regular attempts to illicit a particular response from me instead of just telling the story and letting my emotional chips fall where they may.
If you desire to bow down at the shrine of Patricia Clarkson, you could do far worse than Pieces of April (see All the King’s Men here). If, however, you come to this film hoping for some diamond-in-the-rough, Avant Garde piece of cinematic genius, you must prepare yourself for something more akin to fake pearls and a movie in the park. You won’t hate the film, but you also won’t be recommending it to your friends next weekend.
I liked this film though it did have flaws. The ending felt really genuine and mostly the pay off was really good.
Hi Dan . . . thanks for the comment. I wanted the ending to feel genuine, but it didn’t to me. Perhaps I’ve grown cynical. I do love a happy ending, but one where a terminally ill woman jumps on the back of a strange man’s motorcycle on Thanksgiving Day to race back to a daughter she loves but doesn’t understand to enjoy a meal with random, well-diversified, neighbors strikes me as the stuff of movies and far removed from reality. Oh my gosh, I have grown cynical or, at least, jaded by suburban life. Forgive me. I’m glad you enjoyed the film!