Amazon.com
Originally conceived and shot as a musical, James L. Brooks's (
Broadcast News) comedy of life in Hollywood remains a perceptive and very funny film. A loose Nick Nolte stars as Matt Hobbs, a struggling actor who must find work to support his spoiled 6-year-old daughter (cutie pie Whittni Wright) when his estranged wife (Tracey Ullman) dumps her. Brooks creates wonderful characters in this insightful look at how the movie business has changed--from strong talent (represented by Hobbs) to image and test screenings. Hobbs's angel--professionally and privately--is embodied by a ditsy production assistant (Joely Richardson) to an egoistical producer (Albert Brooks, hilarious as always). Ironically, the movie's songs by Prince were excised when they did not test well. What's left lacks the heights the songs might have provided (especially in the finale), but with Brooks's talent for giving even minor characters juicy dialogue,
I'll Do Anything is a light comedy worth seeking out.
--Doug Thomas
Written and directed by James L. Brooks, this movie started life as a musical comedy and wound up as an extreme oddity. The music was dropped along the way, and you can't help feeling that some of the jokes never made it, either. Nick Nolte stars as Matt Hobbs, a not-in-demand actor who hangs around Los Angeles looking for work and tends to the unflagging demands of his young daughter (Whittni Wright), whose own road to stardom is less bumpy. This domestic saga takes up most of the plot, leaving other love stories-a wounded romance between Burke (Albert Brooks) and Nan (Julie Kavner), and Matt's courting of a movie executive named Cathy (Joely Richardson)-patchy and undeveloped. There are sunny moments here, alive with nimble shifts of feeling, but the director won't let the mood grow; he prefers to score angry points against the movie industry, as he did with television in "Broadcast News." Once again, however, he ends up falling for the cheap ethic that he wants to condemn; the climactic scene, in which Wright weeps on cue for a live audience, features more hugging than Christmas Day at the White House. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker