The only reasons to see this Bobby Darin homage are the music and dancing, which faithfully re-create the atmosphere of ’60s floor shows.
By: Bob Brown
This homage to the entertainer Bobby Darin is as mixed up about its own identity as Darin himself was. Is it a biopic, a musical or a play? Was Darin arrogant or merely business savvy? Was he a teen idol, a ring-a-ding nightclub entertainer, a film star or a folkie? Yes and no to all of the above.
One thing is clear from the portrayal: Darin was a control freak. He invented his first stage identity and remade himself ever thereafter. How the man did this in such a short span only 15 years was what drew Kevin Spacey to him. This movie is, in a sense, the product of another man’s control. Spacey, who is credited with the screenplay, also directed the film, acted the title role and even sang Darin’s signature performances.
Ironically, Spacey wasn’t even in the running for any of this during the 17 years that the project was bouncing around Hollywood, two years longer than Darin’s entire career. Tom Cruise, Leonardo DiCaprio, Johnny Depp, and even Bruce Willis all preceded him as possibilities. Directors once attached to the film were Barry Levinson and Paul Schrader. And the script itself went from hand to hand, suffering rewrite after rewrite as the project tumbled lazily along.
The best one can say of the result is that the music and dancing are of a high caliber. Spacey is a talented singer and dancer in his own right. He, too, is a performer who puts it all out there, so Darin is an appropriate model for him. In explaining his work, Spacey said, "What was at the forefront of my mind was to make an entertaining film about an entertainer. A person who walked out there every night and sang his guts out for two hours and created the kind of intimate nightclub world that doesn’t really exist anymore." You can almost imagine yourself back at the Copacabana when singers walked into the spotlight with a smoke in one hand and a drink in the other, although that was a Sinatra sort of thing. Darin had health problems.
But considering its history, the movie overall is a mess. The most curious fumble is that it’s a film about itself. One minute you’re following Darin/Spacey onto the nightclub stage, breaking into song with his band, the next minute he’s shouting "Cut" and you’re in the middle of a studio set where everyone is pretending to watch Bobby Darin onstage. Then Spacey/Darin turns to the boy Bobby Darin (William Ullrich), who has criticized the film’s direction. "How do you see it?" Spacey asks. Then the set dissolves into a street scene of the 1930s, where the boy Bobby is the center. It’s like watching a heavy-handed stage play from the 1970s, or Thornton Wilder’s The Skin of Our Teeth. Been there, done that. What does it add besides confusion?
Another failing is that in trying to make art out of a troubled life, it slathers on gobs of sentimentality. The elements lend themselves to such treatment, if one wished it. A sickly boy from the Bronx lifts himself out of his condition and his neighborhood and onto the national stage by his sheer ambition, which some call arrogance. He meets and marries in short order America’s beach-party sweetheart, Sandra Dee (Kate Bosworth, who does a cute turn). But as Bobby’s career booms and Sandra’s busts, there’s trouble in paradise. Dee’s problems with alcohol and mediocre parts, which were elaborated upon in a since-abandoned script, could have made a whole other movie. They’re merely brought up and swept aside as an afterthought.
She tipples too much, the couple argues a lot, their son is shunted off to a nanny, and Bobby decides to drop singing and turn to politics. After his idol, Bobby Kennedy, is shot, Darin withdraws altogether and recasts himself, none too successfully, as a war-protesting guitar strummer. Who would buy that? The entertainment system is all about public expectations. Changing them is like trying to turn around the Queen Mary on a dime. So Bobby re-examines his image and tries to filter his new identity through the icon that was Bobby Darin.
It’s a shame that the film, like its subject, is so full of itself. It gets in its own way. Otherwise, the performances are good. Besides Spacey and Bosworth, there are John Goodman as Steve Blauner, Darin’s manager; and Bob Hoskins as Darin’s confidante, Charlie, who is married to Darin’s "sister" Nina (Caroline Aaron in a standout performance). Also notable is Greta Scacchi as Mary, Sandra Dee’s smothering mother, who scolds her errant daughter, "You could have married Rock Hudson!"
The only reasons to see this movie are the music and dancing, which faithfully re-create the atmosphere of floor shows in the 1960s. If you never got to Vegas or the Copa in those years, this is the next best thing. And if you know anything about Bobby Darin’s real life, just put away what you know. The filmmakers should have had their artistic license revoked.
Rated PG-13. Contains strong language and a scene of sensuality.