Powerful and poignant in unexpected ways; familiar while thankfully side-stepping cliché

Rating: 8/10 (10 June 2009)

Sometimes Hollywood continuity can lead to enjoyment of certain films being undermined by factors external to the world of the film itself. It is in this way that Joe Wright's The Soloist, like its protagonists, experienced its fair share of "setbacks". First primed as a surefire Oscar nominee released during November awards season, the film was subsequently held over until the following spring, leading to dubious speculations over its quality. Similarly, the unexpected juxtaposition with a sumptuous, unintentional inside joke proved difficult to shake: Hollywood satire Tropic Thunder, released earlier in the same year, left an infamous monologue (coincidentally spoken by Soloist star Robert Downey Jr.) regarding actors selecting roles involving mental illness for the sake of awards glory fresh in the collective unconscious, making Jamie Foxx's role as a schizophrenic musician a source of ridicule for many. As such, if anything stands testament to the quality of Wright's film, it is its ability, like its protagonists, to overcome such external setbacks with its dignity intact, a powerful watch peppered with unexpected moments of humour and poignancy, making it all the more compelling an experience.
From its very conception, the film marked an uneasy yet somehow functional interplay between the authentic and cinematically fantastic. Despite its "based on a true story" tag (despite taking certain artistic liberties, such as oddly enough portraying Steve Lopez, in real life still happily married, as divorced for the sake of parallelism with Ayers), the film could hardly offer a more familiar conceptual framework. Hearkening back to many similar efforts, Rain Man being the most famous, a superficial reading of the film would suggest yet another trite, pseudo-uplifting tale of personal growth through adversity and friendship. And while The Soloist does fulfil such narrative expectations, Wright is too clever to stop there, and instead subtly bends his focus past mere conventional playing to sentiment. In numerous sequences, Wright's camera slowly extends upwards to a bird's eye view of the entire city or dwells on lengthy montages of nameless impoverished masses simply living their desolate lives, as if quietly needling the audience that the scope of the concerns depicted extends far beyond the individual case represented. This intention is made all the more clear by the fact that the final pre-closing credits title does not pertain to real life protagonists Lopez or Ayers, but rather states "There are 90, 000 homeless people in Los Angeles alone". Similarly, fears of an overly saccharine ending are dispelled by Wright punctuating his climax with a voice-over by Lopez ruminating on whether his actions actually did help Ayers at all. Rather than caving to easy sentiment, Wright lets the mood of the moment build, only to undercut it with bleak realism, adding most expansive degrees of gravitas and poignancy.
Yet Wright is equally unwilling to let his film descend into the usual dour moralizing offered by other such films with "social messages", and peppers his film with moments of oddball humour (brilliantly benefiting from his casting the master of deadpan, Robert Downey Jr.) to provide endearing reprieves. Similarly, Wright demonstrates his true directorial prowess through moments such as daring to take breaks from the narrative and often just sit back and listen, allowing his audience to be just as captivated by Ayers' playing as Lopez is, and it is commendable indeed to have a mainstream film promoting the power of musical concerts. Even more magic and haunting (and familiar, oddly enough to viewers of Pixar animated film Ratatouille) are Wright's attempts to cinematically "get inside" Ayers' head, reproducing his auditory appreciation for music through a slew of dazzling colours and patterns. It is these fleeting inspired moments which lift The Soloist above the banal and the conventional, adding just enough unexpected or unanticipated moments to make the movie a captivating watch, no matter how familiar the premise.
Nonetheless, as with many such character driven pieces, it is the casting which ultimately makes the film. Continuing a spectacular recent comeback, Robert Downey Jr. delivers yet another testament to his being arguably the most watchable actor in Hollywood as jaded journalist Steve Lopez. His unique verbal style and energy helping to swallow up the most hackneyed of lines, Downey Jr. is superbly charismatic and believable, not only providing most of the film's welcome comic relief but a superbly realized dramatic backbone, never once faltering as a commanding lead. Despite Jamie Foxx, first plugged as the film's Oscar grabber, recently being under critical fire for offering an overly stereotypical portrayal of a mentally ill man, his Nathaniel Ayers feels every inch a real person without inappropriately milking sympathy or depression from the audience. Foxx offers a real haunting life behind periodic twitches and mumbles, careful to keep Nathaniel highly dignified and self-sufficient as well as cheerfully accepting of his position, proving highly inspirational, but in somehow a completely unexpected manner. Catherine Keener also delivers a terrific performance as Lopez's (in the film) ex-wife, measuring a sardonic and critical veneer with a truly resonant human side, her excellent charisma helping to carry a stale "emotional support" role. Tom Hollander is the most objectionable presence, feeling out of place and vaguely offensive as a snide, fundamentalist cello teacher working with Ayers, but Nelsan Ellis counterbalances him as a warm, measured and wryly humorous relief worker.
While using words such as 'powerful', 'resonant', 'touching' and 'uplifting' to describe The Soloist might only suggest the film's worn out, superficial premise being realized, Wright somehow manages to stay a step ahead of the game. Extracting such emotions at unexpected moments or times while maintaining a final impact which is not only daringly bleak, but also quietly truthful without ever becoming excessively sombre and dour, Wright's film remains unexpectedly fascinating, and worth seeing even for those skeptical of the film's initial presentation.
-8/10