strong performances in a so-so film

Rating: 6/10 (2 May 2009)

In 2005, the Los Angeles Times published a series of articles by reporter Steve Lopez profiling a classical music virtuoso he found living - and playing his two-string violin - on the streets of Skid Row. After spending many hours with his subject, Lopez learned that Nathaniel Ayers' promising career as a musician was cut tragically short in the early 1970s when he fell victim to schizophrenia - he began hearing voices that crowded out his ability to think clearly and function in the real world - while still a student at Julliard. Inspired both by the human interest potential of the story, as well as by a sincere desire to extend a helping hand to a fellow human being in need, Lopez touched an emotional chord in his readers, shining a spotlight on the very real problems of homelessness and mental illness, while, at the same time, turning Ayres into something of a household name.
With selected passages from the articles serving as voice-over narration, "The Soloist," adapted by Susannah Grant, features Robert Downey Jr. as the well-meaning writer who, in the midst of his personal crusade, comes to question just how much good one human being can do for another when the object of those intentions is either already too far gone to be successfully reached or simply unwilling to accept any proffer of assistance from a caring stranger. Jamie Foxx plays Ayres, the mentally ill prodigy who speaks like Rain Man yet plays the cello like Rostropovich. Both actors are excellent in their roles, with Foxx, in particular, avoiding the temptation of overplaying his hand in a part that seems tailor-made to garner critical acclaim and award nominations.
The performances are certainly the best things going for "The Soloist," for, without them, the movie might well have ended up choking on its own sanctimony and noble intentions. Joe Wright, who did much better by "Atonement" a few years back, here tries to gussy things up with a plethora of fancy directorial touches - birds soaring to the music, endless helicopter shots of the city, laser light shows serving as visual correlatives to the classical pieces being played - but no amount of showiness can keep the drama from remaining frustratingly earthbound, pedestrian and plodding. Luckily, the screenplay avoids becoming as syrupy and sentimental as it clearly might have given the Humanity-of-Man nature of the material, and the story itself is interesting enough on its own to overcome the rather indifferent treatment it receives at the hands of the filmmakers. Moreover, the movie does bring out into the open the shamelessly overlooked plight of the homeless and mentally ill in our urban centers. For that reason alone, it serves a salutary purpose.