review: John Huston's Wise Blood was a more horrifying misrepresentation of Flannery O'Connor's book than I could have imagined. From the utterly terrible acting performances (and don't you, "Oh that was done on purpose, you just don't get it" me!) to the musical score that was more suited to an episode of Rockford Files, this film was revolting. I viewed it with no ill-will at the outset, and, in fact, expected a pleasant experience. But the misrepresentation of the southern characters, from the ridiculously fraudulent southern drawl to the lilting, comedic way their faith was portrayed, was inexcusable. Right down to it's end, which was completely devoid of any character sentiment, it failed in every place that O'Connor's book shined and resonated. The actors portraying the "southern" policemen may as well have been eating smothered hot-dogs from NYC street stands and quoting Godfather. The one redeeming acting performance was Ned Beatty's lively and dead-on representation of Hoover Shoates, a religious con-artist who hears Moates preaching the Church of Christ Without Christ and sees dollar signs and business opportunities. O'Connor's powerful book is most well-known for it's creepy, religious undercurrent that jibes the seemingly lifeless cadaver of "Faith". Mr. Huston's film is a shameful mockery of the author's intentions, as they are understood by me and most of her fans, if I may be so bold as to say so. While I acknowledge that I can't know exactly what the author wished to convey, I have enough affection for her and her works to desire to remain a fan. If I viewed Wise Blood the way Mr. Huston apparently did, I would have thrown it in the trash. For Flannery's sake, and mine, I forgive you, John Huston. The forgetting....that will take some time.