Amazon.com
Richard Gere is pretty convincing as a severe manic-depressive whose episodes of euphoria sometimes find him dancing on a two-by-four far above the street or climbing onstage during a symphony performance to "conduct" the orchestra. When the pendulum swings the other way, he is practically catatonic. As a character study, this film by Mike Figgis (
Leaving Las Vegas) has its truly compelling moments, but
Mr. Jones isn't just a character study. Inexplicably, Figgis ushers in a preposterous romance between this poor fellow and his psychiatrist (Lena Olin), a relationship that is supposed to raise interesting ethical and dramatic issues. All it does is make one wonder what the devil the doctor is thinking of, and why Figgis felt it necessary to go down this lose-lose path. With Delroy Lindo in a nice part as a sympathetic construction worker who tries to help Gere's character.
--Tom Keogh
The last time Richard Gere teamed up with the British director Mike Figgis, it went like a dream, albeit a scary one: they made the gripping "Internal Affairs," with Gere looking like a fetish object in his cop uniform. Now the magic is gone; he plays Mr. Jones-the man from nowhere, with his mind out of whack. He does crazy things-balancing on a roof beam, pushing aside a symphony conductor in the middle of a concert and trying to lead the orchestra himself-and is handed over for treatment to a psychiatrist (Lena Olin). You can feel a love affair coming, but it takes a long time, and then passes by; the rest of the movie is one long brood. As with "The Fisher King" or "Benny & Joon," there's something deeply insulting in the idea that mental instability is worth treasuring because it shakes the world up and gives the rest of us a buzz. The more fun Gere has with the part, the more it makes you wince. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker
