“Charlie Bartlett”Sidney Kimmel EntertainmentWritten by Gustin NashDirected by Jon PollStarring Anton Yelchin, Robert Downey Jr., Hope Davis and Kat DenningsRated R/97 minutes
I did some research on Sidney Kimmel Entertainment, the production company behind the film “Charlie Bartlett.” I couldn’t help feeling that “Charlie Bartlett” seemed fake — an attempt by someone who knows nothing about indie films to produce an impostor indie. Call me paranoid, but during “Bartlett,” I kept picturing a spy taking notes on all of the independent films he’s ever seen and reporting to some fat cat in a big studio. “Nudity,” he would note hoarsely after watching “American Beauty” (which only barely counts, but of course he wouldn’t know that). “Pills. Drugged-up parents,” he would whisper into a walkie-talkie, taking “Chumscrubber” into account. “Teen sex. Angst. Prison.”
Sidney Kimmel Entertaiment might have come out with “Lars and the Real Girl,” “The Kite Runner” and “Adventureland” (featured at Sundance this year), but don’t be fooled. “Charlie Bartlett” is not an indie film.
It wants to be.
It tries to be.
What “Charlie Bartlett” manages to be is a mildly original teeny-bopper film (you know, those movies that take a stab at high school and come up with a handful of stereotypes and some out-of-date slang). If you were excited to see “Charlie Bartlett,” take my advice and go rent “The Rage in Placid Lake” instead. You’ll get the easy-going, entrepreneurial protagonist, the spaced-out parents, the coming-of-age drama you were excited to see in “Charlie Bartlett,” but you’ll be spared the pain of seeing Robert Downey Jr. struggling to salvage horribly written dialog.
There are a few saving graces for “Bartlett.” Anton Yelchin, for example, is adorable as Charlie, the private school kid who goes to public school and starts peddling prescriptions in a bid for popularity. However, watching Yelchin run around shrieking in his underpants because of the extreme psychedelic effects of Ritalin is frustrating. Even more frustrating is that Yelchin manages to sell said Ritalin at $10 a pop to his fellow students, who start exhibiting the same wild symptoms of being “totally high” after one pill a piece.
Ritalin? Really?
Besides my bewilderment at a small dose of Ritalin having the same effects as a line of coke, it’s surprising that not a single student at Bartlett’s high school had access to the pill before Bartlett came, and that not a single student actually had ADD or reacted to the drug by becoming calmer and more focused (Ritalin’s intended result).
Charlie’s mom (Hope Davis) is surreal — a wonderful performance, no doubt, but hard to explain. Downey Jr.’s performance as Principal Gardner — a man with little authority, a daughter (Kat Dennings) and a drinking problem — was tolerable, but annoying. Even Downey Jr.’s cute moments — calling rock candy for his daughter Susan “crack rock,” warning Charlie not to mess with his daughter or he will “take a massive, steaming dump on your life,” — are drowned out by the inexplicability of other scenes. For instance, the scene when Gardner demands to know the contents of a pharmacy bag and ends up getting punched by Charlie feels so scripted, I thought that it was supposed to feel that way — I thought Charlie and Susan were actually setting it up. A later attempt at a scene to provide “motivation” fell so flat, I wanted to go home and rent “Dead Poets Society” just to get rid of the memory.
Probably the worst thing about “Charlie Bartlett” is the flow. There’s no setting of mood, no attention to tone or transitions. One minute Charlie and Susan are being cute, the next minute, out of nowhere, Charlie is crying about his father in prison (the most forced revelatory scene I have ever been underwhelmed to witness) and the next they are having brief, unaffecting first-time sex — all just thrown together, wham bam, thank you ma’am, with no time to feel anything or even process what’s going on.
Needless to say, I thoroughly disliked “Charlie Bartlett.” I suppose the target audience might get a kick out of it — I’m assuming it’s for teens, despite its R rating — and the acting was good enough that the script didn’t sound nearly as bad as it really was.
All things considered, “Charlie Bartlett” is a prescription for disappointment.