Three stars. Rated PG-13, and rather harshly, for suggestive content and drug use
By Derrick Bang
Hollywood efforts to remake French films are spotty at best; for every reasonable success — Point of No Return and Three Men and a Baby come to mind — we endure half a dozen wincingly awful bombs such as Dinner for Schmucks, My Father the Hero, Two Much, The Toy, Oscar, The Jackal and … well, you get the idea.
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| Helping Phillip (Bryan Cranston, left) with his daily correspondence is one of many tasks that Dell (Kevin Hart) initially finds bewildering ... particularly when Yvonne (Nicole Kidman) makes a point of removing hand-addressed, light blue envelopes from the stack. |
Too many American filmmakers simply don’t get — or fail to appreciate — the wit, subtlety and gentle humor of European writers and directors, who obviously have more faith in their viewers’ intelligence. American remakes tend toward vulgarity, boorishness and broadly overstated farce. Characters who felt real in a French original, become garish burlesques.
I therefore greeted the announced remake of 2011’s The Intouchables with wariness, particularly when Kevin Hart — an aggressive comedian hardly known for delicacy — was announced as co-star. The original is a quiet masterpiece that’s both funny and deeply touching; directors Olivier Nakache and Éric Toledana did a superb job of turning Philippe Pozzo di Borgo’s 2001 memoir — Le Second Souffle (A Second Wind) — into a heartwarming dramedy about two men from completely different worlds, who nonetheless forge a deep, interconnected friendship.
Well, color me surprised. Director Neil Burger’s The Upside may not have the emotional impact of its predecessor, but it’s a game effort. Credit screenwriter Jon Hartmere for retaining both the original’s crucial plot points, and (for the most part) its thoughtful, often melancholy tone. The modifications required by transplanting these events to New York are integrated smoothly, and Hartmere even made a few wise improvements (such as ditching a snotty daughter character, who was a pointless distraction).
Best of all, Burger successfully guides Hart through a comparatively nuanced performance, mostly bereft of the mugging, wild gesticulations and wide-eyed bluster that have become his signature in moron comedies such as Ride Along, Get Hard and Central Intelligence. His Dell is a fairly real guy here: one to whom we can relate, and with whom we can sympathize.
He’s an embittered ex-con who can’t see beyond a lifetime of bad choices. He’s long separated from a girlfriend (Aja Naomi King, as Latrice) and son (Jahi Di’Allo Winston, as Anthony) who want nothing to do with him; he’s also just this side of being sent back to court by a parole officer whose patience has worn thin. The latter’s final edict is adamant: Get a job. Now. Or tell it to the judge.
Half-hearted efforts at menial employment yield a few signatures that Dell needs to ensure compliance; he then stumbles upon a cattle-call interview session in the Park Avenue penthouse belonging to Phillip (Bryan Cranston), a self-made billionaire left paralyzed after a paragliding accident. Badly out of place amid several dozen immaculately dressed men and women, Dell doesn’t even know what a “life auxiliary” (24/7 caregiver) is, let alone qualify to be one.
Ultimately fed up after a long wait, Dell interrupts an interview-in-progress and promises to leave quietly, if he can get a signature. Phillip, unimpressed by the day’s long string of immaculately appointed individuals who wax philosophic about “becoming one” with his limitations, is intrigued by this brash, insolent and (clearly) out-of-his-depth intruder.
Inexperience doesn’t imply incapable, and Phillip’s career has been built on seeing — and acting upon — the potential of unlikely individuals and business models. Besides which, he’s intrigued by Dell’s spunk and unwillingness to suck up … much to the horror of longtime personal assistant Yvonne (Nicole Kidman), who cannot believe what her boss has just done.
Dell also hasn’t much interest in playing full-time nurse to a rich white dude who listens to opera and fills his home with ugly, outrageously overpriced paintings. But Dell is desperate; the rupture with Latrice and Anthony is just this side of becoming permanent, and he certainly doesn’t want to go back to prison. So he accepts Phillip’s offer, and steps through the looking-glass into a rarefied world of comfortable beds, fancy cars, gourmet meals and multi-jet showers.
And unappetizing tasks such as catheter changes. And worse.
The resulting broad strokes are easy to anticipate, as these two men “rub off” on each other, but our interest is held by the details. After learning more about Phillip’s career, Dell determines to concoct his own get-rich-quick business model: a running bit that prompts numerous droll interactions involving Dell’s impractical suggestions and Phillip’s gentle rebuttals (all of which Cranston handles with sublime dry wit).
The tension between Dell and the disapproving Yvonne also generates mild sparks, the latter determined to get him ejected for cause and/or carelessness. Then there’s the matter of the light blue envelopes that periodically pop up in the mail, and which Phillip refuses to discuss.
Most crucial, though, is the melancholy that so frequently overwhelms Phillip: a cloud of despair that visibly radiates from Cranston.
This, perhaps, is where fans of the French film will find fault with this remake. Burger and Hartmere fill in and add details that weren't emphasized in the original — such as the nature of the accident that left Phillip paralyzed — because they weren’t necessary. (They still aren’t.) And, as if that weren’t enough to justify the man’s anguish, Hartmere adds much broader details regarding the tragedy of a wife who died of cancer (which, frankly, is laying it on with a trowel).
The “mystery of the blue envelopes” builds to a newly invented resolution that’s needlessly, brutally cruel; it also “reads” wrong, and is one of very few times when the dialogue sounds false and unconvincing. On the other hand, this shift allows for a sweet finale which — although wholly different from the original film — is quite satisfying.
On the other hand, some eyebrow-arching financial dealings in the third act are improbable at best, and downright ridiculous at worst: as if some extremely crucial details were left on the cutting-room floor.
I also miss the attention that the French version paid to the other members of Phillip’s full-time household staff, all of whom we got to know quite well. Aside from Yvonne and a bit of lip service paid to Phillip’s gorgeous physical therapist (Golshifteh Farahani), the rest are little more than one-dimensional ciphers.
Fortunately, the Mutt ’n’ Jeff dynamic between Cranston and Hart keeps the film going, with Kidman serving as something of a reluctant referee; we still get involved in each man’s stumbling effort to become a better version of himself. There’s also a lot to be said for Cranston’s sly half-smiles and gently cunning rebukes — he gets a lot of mileage out of minimal dialog — and Hart’s suspicious, narrow-eyed double takes.
The Upside (terrible title, just in passing) was one of many films caught in the wake of Harvey Weinstein’s fall from grace, and languished for more than a year before being granted release by STX Entertainment … which then dumped the flick, with very little publicity, amid the January doldrums. It’ll sink without a trace: a sadder fate than it deserves.
Because, in fairness, Burger’s film likely will be enjoyed by viewers unfamiliar with its predecessor.
(Although if you’ve read this far, for heaven’s sake, seek out The Intouchables!)
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