A HOME AT THE END OF THE WORLD
Directed by: Michael Mayer.
Produced by: Tom Hulce, Christine Vachon, Katie Roumel, Pamela Koffler, John Wells, John N. Hart Jr. & Jeffrey Sharp.
Written by: Michael Cunningham, based on his novel.
Director of Photography: Enrique Chediak.
Edited by: Lee Percy.
Music by: Duncan Sheik.
Released by: Warner Independent Pictures.
Country of Origin: USA. 120 min. Rated: R.
With: Colin Farrell, Robin Wright Penn, Sissy Spacek & Dallas Roberts.

It could be the acid he dropped when he was nine or the death of his entire family within the next few years. Whatever the case, Bobby's a little odd. Adopted by his friend Jonathan's family, he's a perpetual child, maintaining an impassive nonchalance and optimism, and approaching the future with an almost unfailing attitude of openness and adaptability. This comes in handy when, in his twenties, Bobby (Farrell) moves to New York to live with Jonathan (Roberts) and his roommate Clare (Penn). He enters into a relationship with Clare but tries to maintain his close friendship with Jonathan, and A Home at the End of the World is essentially about Bobby's maintaining a balance within this self-made family.

Mayer directs the film crisply and expertly through Bobby's childhood and adolescence, and Cunningham condenses this broad swath of time into a few choice scenes. Sissy Spacek sparkles early on as an indulgent suburban mother, and Erik Smith and Harris Allan convey all the awkwardness and marvel of teenage Bobby and Jonathan. But when the film moves to New York, it staggers. We're told that the characters have something special together, but it's hard to believe it. None of lead performances convey much beyond the dialogue.

Farrell has the unluckiest role here. He's required to play a character whose naiveté is a mask for a deeper emotional force. Unfortunately, playing the innocent can steer any actor into a one-note performance. "You are a strange and mysterious creature," Clare tells Bobby. But Farrell's no mystery; he's just a blank.

The film is full of scenes that seem calculatedly affecting, and its most emotional moments are forced and turgid. Mayer and Cunningham try desperately to convey the wonder and beauty of life, and seem to endorse Bobby's easygoing attitude. In some places - like a scene where Farrell and Roberts dance to Mozart on a city rooftop - they come close to realizing this goal. But mostly, A Home at the End of the World is so easygoing it puts you to sleep. Arthur Vaughan
July 23, 2004