Release Date: October 22, 1999
Starring: Melanie Griffith, Lucas Black, David Morse, Meat Loaf, Cathy Moriarty, Rod Steiger
Directed by: Antonio Banderas
Distributed by: Sony Pictures Entertainment
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (some violence, thematic material, language, a scene of sensuality)
It's inevitable that an actor, having found himself in reasonably good standing by measure of the success of his films, will want to try his hand at screenwriting or directing. Some, such as the ineffable duo of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, or the reliable Mel Gibson, make their mark (the former won an Academy Award for the script to Good Will Hunting; the latter snagged an Oscar for his helming of Braveheart). Others find themselves wishing they could erase their mark, their debauchery at the controls having been critically lambasted. Antonio Banderas' work in Crazy in Alabama may fall into the latter category, his stardom in front of the camera too iffy to justify offstage work; nevertheless, allowing for a jittery beginning, he coaxes a solidly entertaining film out of Alabama, one certainly worth watching.
Banderas' directing beginning is jittery in the context of the film as well as the context of his career. In regards to the latter, Crazy in Alabama is a movie with mixed intentions and a dualistic plot that is more complex than it first appears. Although his ambition is to be respected, Mr. Banderas cannot be forgiven for his ill-handled deliverance of this project. In the hands of a more experienced director, this could have been Forrest Gump revisited, and not necessarily in a bad sense. Many of the turbulent issues of the South during the 1960's are discussed in Alabama, and these require a perceptive eye as well as a sensitive touch, neither of which the star-turned-director prominently displays.
The movie itself is also a bit shaky at the beginning, offering a nervous mixture of scenes that don't immediately make sense. But given time for warm-ups, Crazy in Alabama takes off and never looks back. The story is told through the vision of pint-sized Peejoe (short for Peter Joseph, played by Lucas Black): he recalls the fateful summer of 1965 when his Aunt Lucille (Melanie Griffith) fled from the law to pursue an acting career in Hollywood. Lucille, it seems, has decapitated her drunkard of a husband, stashing the bigger part in her basement freezer and toting the man's noggin across the country in a Tupperware container.
At the same time, things in Peejoe's hometown of Industry, Alabama, have gone from bad to worse: the malevolent Sheriff Doggett (Meat Loaf) has murdered the son of a prominent civil rights activist, Nehemiah Jackson (John Beasley). Peejoe is the only witness to the crime, and with the help of his Uncle Dove (David Morse), he wants to bring this to light before a grand jury; soon the two realize, however, that if they do, the sheriff will push for the arrest and execution of Lucille.
Melanie Griffith, who gets the lion's share of the attention, does well for herself, although the quasi-airhead routine often becomes tiresome. It's a cakewalk for Griffith, who's done the role numerous times over under different names and costumes. Lucas Black does Peejoe as a recycled version of "The Wonder Years," displaying a requisite maturity beyond his years. The true standout is David Morse, who plays the benevolent Dove with a forceful simplicity that demands notice without ever asking for it. His is the baseline role of the story, the binding link between the movie's two plots.
But, in the end, it comes down to Antonio Banderas. He doesn't do anything to recommend his work as a whole, but he also displays a touch for culling maximum energy from any given scene. Several scenes involving the sit-ins staged at a public pool as well as the unlikely but stirring appearance of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. -- coupled with the music of Mark Snow (best known for his role as the chief composer for TV's "The X-Files") -- are extremely poignant. Although the movie does give itself over to dicey humor, there are times when the weight of the drama is unparalleled by anything else of its kind.
So although it has its iffy moments, Antonio Banderas' Crazy in Alabama is indeed a worthwhile film. Its message is not profound, and at times it doesn't even have a message (the drawn-out ending to Aunt Lucille's story is questionable), but it does deliver the goods. Even if this film isn't a box office success, it will be a gem to those who take the time.
all contents © 1999 Craig Roush