There’s a leaden feel to “Arthur Newman” that its stars,
Colin Firth and Emily Blunt, can’t salvage. Its message about accepting
yourself and your past is a good one, but the story just plods. Firth plays
Wallace Avery, a man so depressed with his life that he decides to reinvent
himself as Arthur Newman, golf pro.
On his way to a new job in Indiana, Arthur meets Michaela or Mike
(Blunt), a fragile kleptomaniac who’s fleeing her own messed-up life. For a few
days and a few hundred miles, they hang out together, watching other couples
and trying on new identities. They’re not in love, but each finds something
poignant in the other. It sounds more interesting than it really is.
The essential problem is that director Dante Ariola fails to
make a boring man interesting. And Firth, as talented as he is, brings nothing
to the role, which is probably a result of a script that doesn’t delve too
deeply into Arthur’s psyche. Arthur loves hot dogs, pastel polo shirts and golf. That’s
it. Blunt’s role is a little livelier, but no less believable. In a better
movie, Arthur and Mike would eventually get into trouble. Instead this road
movie heads towards docile acceptance and boredom. 5/2/13
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