Film review: Arthur

Published on Wednesday 20 April 2011 19:20

Russell Brand's new vehicle fails to play to his strengths, it has none of the original's charm and the script is so awful only Helen Mirren scrapes by with dignity intact

ARTHUR (12A)*

DIRECTED BY: JASON WINER

STARRING: RUSSELL BRAND, HELEN MIRREN, GRETA GERWIG, JENNIFER GARNER

IN THE current age of austerity, it's hard to think of a more unsympathetic starting point for a romantic hero than an infantilised billionaire boozehound who has never worked a day in his life. Unless you get Russell Brand to play him - in which case, said character immediately becomes even more irredeemably pathetic and awful. Which isn't to denigrate Brand for the sake of it; it's merely to point out that as an actor, he doesn't yet possess the skills (and perhaps never will) to make such a character in anyway charming or likeable on screen.

Unfortunately that hasn't stopped someone trying to transform the sweet, imperfect 1981 Dudley Moore comedy Arthur into a vehicle for his particular talents. Brand's garrulous, sexualised, synapse-firing, Dionysian persona is a bad fit for a role that requires him to exude the air of a frightened child running from adult responsibility. Sure, he got away with that in Get Him to the Greek, but that was largely because that film's loose structure and debauched rock-star storyline gave him the space to make his improvisatory, off-the-wall wittering seem like the spontaneous ramblings of drug-addled neophyte (the film itself didn't bear too much scrutiny).

Arthur, on the other hand, is a safe, conventional and slushily sentimental rom-com and trying to force him into that straitjacket simply neuters anything good, dangerous or interesting about him. At points you can see him trying to act like himself, but he's seems self-conscious and awkward. When he tries to make drunken non sequiturs sound funny and endearing, he's all at sea, like a karaoke Jack Sparrow.

When we first meet him, however, he's a karaoke Batman, dressed to the nines in full Batman regalia, readying himself for a night on the town embarrassing his cold-hearted mother Vivienne (Geraldine James) by drunkenly driving his garish Joel Schumacher-era Batmobile through the streets of New York. Buying his way out of a subsequent arrest - and proceeding to brush aside recession references by throwing money at those less fortunate than himself (he's like a smug and patronising Bruce Wayne) - the latest round of bad press generated by said incident is starting to shake the investor confidence in the family business.

Panicked into finally exerting some discipline, Vivienne presents Arthur with an ultimatum: marry ambitious, predatory corporate climber Susan (Jennifer Garner) to restore faith in the company, or be disinherited and forced to live in the real world for once. Naturally, he chooses the money and engagement, but his inherent goodness is supposedly indicated by his mild protestations that love and marriage shouldn't really be a business transaction.

To reinforce this point, Arthur soon falls for Naomi, a quirky, free-spirited gal who shares some of Arthur's childlike wonderment (if not his wealthy insouciance) and harbours dreams of writing children's books. If only she could find time between looking after her sick father, running illegal tours of Grand Central Station and putting together character-defining outfits that help her look like every other pseudo-hipster kook in New York. Played by Greta Gerwig, who came up through the much-mocked mumblecore scene but delivered a beautifully judged break-out turn in last year's Greenberg, Naomi offers a glimpse of what we can perhaps expect from Gerwig now that Hollywood has got its claws into her: more of Zooey Deschanel's scraps.

Arthur certainly doesn't do her any favours. Though she's a more skilled performer than her co-star she, like Brand, doesn't seem to respond well to the restrictiveness of her character, a poor, pure-of-heart innocent who inspires Arthur to be a better person. Indeed, only Helen Mirren comes out of this not bearing any battle scars. Effectively taking over the guardian role John Geilgud occupied in the original, she plays Arthur's childhood nanny Hobson, a stern-but-loving maternal figure whose services have been retained long past an age any normal person would deem healthy. Mirren has a way of making even the most cringe-worthy or try-hard line seem work so it's a shame she hasn't been given any good ones that might have elevated the material to a level of watchable mediocrity instead of the clanging, jokeless horror that has ended up on screen.

Debut director Justin Weiner plays everything too safe, so even with a script by Brass Eye veteran and Borat co-writer Peter Baynham to work from, edgier satirical gags - including one about President Obama's skin colour - backfire in horrible ways. A soppy cop-out ending further undermines anything interesting about the premise by lowering the stakes of Arthur's redemption and shoehorning in a bogus testimonial to the benefits of Alcoholics Anonymus after encouraging us - albeit unsuccessfully - to laugh at inebriation for two hours. At least the film's disastrous performance in the US should prevent a remake of Arthur 2: On the Rocks.