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It seems blasphemous to remake Stanley Donen's classic romantic thriller
Charade, but
The Truth About Charlie achieves its own unique identity. Rather than mimic the inimitable chemistry of the original, director Jonathan Demme takes a vividly contemporary approach, with Mark Wahlberg and Thandie Newton well cast in roles originated by Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. The plot's essentially the same, kicking into high gear when Newton--the unwitting courier of a priceless treasure--is chased around Paris by her murdered husband's military cohorts, an avuncular embassy official (Tim Robbins), and a suave stranger (Wahlberg) whose true identity remains elusive. In a film filled with twists and turns, Demme fails to find a consistent tone of humor, romance, and danger. But he's crafted a peculiar Parisian valentine, seasoned with Gallic cameos (singer Charles Aznavour, Anna Karina, director Agnès Varda) and vibrantly alive with music, style, and forward momentum.
Charade it's not, but that's not necessarily a complaint.
--Jeff Shannon
Why remake "Charade"? Stanley Donen's movie is known and loved for its pairing of Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. Jonathan Demme has kept tightly to the story, although you could argue that it was only the stars who made the story worth considering in the first place. We are still in Paris, but this time we get Mark Wahlberg and Thandie Newton; she plays the young widow, and he is the mysterious friend, or agent, who apparently comes to her aid. Newton has no problems with the stylish panic of the role, but Wahlberg seems ominously out of his depth; however many berets you clap on his head, he still looks like a man who would rather be on the planet of the apes. Fortunately, the surrounding landscape has its pleasures; Demme's manner is looser and funkier than Donen's, and the Paris we see is a jamboree of teeming streets and suspicious citizens, hopped up on a soundtrack of world music. The film is hilariously indifferent to the conundrum of the plot-the solution may even be found on the poster, for those who care-but it is sustained, just about, by the buoyancy of its mood. With Tim Robbins as a villain on a Ferris wheel (shades of Harry Lime), and the alluring Christine Boisson as a cop. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker
