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Highly entertaining albeit thin journalism thriller, this examination of a 24-hour period in the life of a
New York Post-ish tabloid focuses on a hard-working metro editor (a pitch-perfect Michael Keaton) thinking of going to a loftier job at a rival paper. Edgy, "NYC as the center of the universe" full of sweat and grit, the paper debates the hot story of the day: a racial shooting. Like most movies from Ron Howard's universe (
Parenthood,
Backdraft), it's always just a movie, full of dramatic, over-the-top setups instead of the genuine article. Still, the film has the feeling of being there, full of workman's vigor where "I'm on deadline" is the family motto. The cast is just right although the roles are stereotypical: the grizzled editor-in-chief (Robert Duvall) the cold female manager (Glenn Close), the slightly whacked-out ace columnist (Randy Quaid), and the rest. Each actor has choice moments in this movie that may turn fans on to the hectic side of journalism.
--Doug Thomas
Ron Howard's big-city-newspaper comedy is a game try at reviving a great Hollywood genre. It doesn't adhere very scrupulously to the classical form, but it sure does play. The movie-which follows Henry Hackett (Michael Keaton), the Metro editor of a struggling New York tabloid, through a single, absurdly gruelling day-gets most of its laughs by constantly piling fresh difficulties on top of already impossible circumstances. The furious plot complications have the effect of confirming the it's-always-something consciousness of harried city folk, and this stressed-out fatalism gives the picture an inexorable and oddly pleASINg comic momentum. Keaton is at his best here, which means that his mind appears to be working at warp speed, and with a berserk, reckless lucidity. Randy Quaid, Marisa Tomei, Robert Duvall, and Jason Alexander create lively, funny characters for Keaton to bounce off, and Howard lets the actors' energy drive the movie. Unfortunately, some inappropriate yuppie philosophizing starts creeping in toward the end; it's clear that Howard and the screenwriters, David and Stephen Koepp, aren't quite willing to go all the way with the heartless, cynical wit of the genre. Also with Glenn Close and Catherine O'Hara. -Terrence Rafferty
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker