TORONTO – Do you remember James Frey’s 2003 novel “A Million Little Pieces”? The best-selling memoir that turned out not to actually be one? When pressed about it on “The Oprah Winfrey Show” in 2005, Frey claimed his 2003 novel was a factual account of his life as an addict and time in rehab. After an investigation by The Smoking Gun was released three months later it turned out much of it was not. The author returned to face Oprah’s wrath in a public whipping that became one of the pop culture moments of 2006. Warner Bros., which had acquired the film rights, scuttled the picture and the book was left as the butt of jokes in movies and TV shows for the next few years. Frey’s work had touched people who had struggled with addiction, however, and that’s clearly one of the reasons Sam Taylor-Johnson and Aaron Taylor-Johnson collaborated on a new adaptation that debuted at the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival on Monday night.
It would be a thrill to tell you that the couple’s vision somehow incorporated the lies Frey told into their own artistic interpretation of the novel. It would be a relief to inform you that the controversial and imaginary fate of one of the main characters was changed or reconstituted in some way. It would be exciting to extol the virtues of a piece of tarnished media that had been somehow resurrected into something truly worthwhile. Neither Taylor-Johnson have any interest in the former and there is little hope for the latter.
Set in 1993, the film begins with Frey (Aaron Taylor-Johnson, committed) on a binge somewhere in America. He falls over a railing and crashes onto the roof of the car. This is actually one of Sam Taylor-Johnson’s more inspired cinematic sequences. There are a few of them in the first 20 or so minutes and they sadly become less and less frequent as the movie progresses.
A battered Frey wakes up to discover he’s on a plane to Minneapolis. When he arrives his brother Bob (Charlie Hunnam, taking one for the team), transports him to a long-running rehab facility Frey has little interest in going to. If you’re wondering if almost the rest of the movie takes place while Frey is at the center, the answer is yes. If you’re curious whether you’re actually going to care about Frey’s journey, that’s debatable. If you’re wondering if this is material we’ve seen many times before, well, you probably know the answer to that already.
During his stay Frey does everything a character who goes to rehab usually does in a movie or TV program. He pushes back against the people working at the facility trying to help him. He makes friends with people from different walks of life he normally wouldn’t make friends with. Oh, yeah and he falls in love with a girl, Lilly (Odessa Young, a talent), he’s not supposed to fall in love with. There are no real surprises in “A Million Little Pieces,” but that’s probably not the point anyway.
[Oh, wait. There is one surprise. Frey’s character is told by one of the facility’s doctors that if he has one more hit of crack or any other major drug he’s likely going to die. For someone’s who body is near complete breakdown he’s completely stacked and has washboard abs almost anyone would be envious of. That’s a tough compelling argument not to do drugs.]
The Taylor-Johnsons were obviously captivated by Frey’s battle with addiction (well, his somewhat fictional battle) and the characters that surrounded him. The film’s huge problem is that even with the most delicate of direction, too many of those characters are simply impossible to believe in filmed media. John (Giovanni Ribisi, simply no words), is a stereotypically flamboyant gay character who keeps throwing himself at Frey including in a bizarre shower scene that is simply improbable and unnecessary. The Taylor-Johnsons’ attempt at redeeming this character is too little, too late and, like his inclusion, pointless. His existence does nothing to grow Frey or propel his arc in any way.
The same could be said for Roy (David Dastmalchian, creepy), a longtime patient who is seemingly hard on Frey upon his arrival for no apparent reason beyond the fact it’s eventually revealed he’s bi-polar (is that an excuse?). Roy’s character literally has no point except to be an ass and his motivation is never revealed. Perhaps he’s supposed to be comic relief and entertaining. Yeah, sure.
Then there’s Leonard (Billy Bob Thorton, predictable), an obvious father figure for Frey whose own history doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. Has he been at the facility for decades? He sure sounds like he has, but it also appears he’s somehow close to getting out? And why does he even take a liking to Frey in the first place? Does Frey bond with him because he had issues with his own father or family? If that’s the case, it would have been great to suggest that in some manner because, frankly, the roots of Frey’s addition are never really explored. The connection between the two men seems more of a plot device than anything genuinely tangible.
As for Lilly, she seems more like a distraction to keep Frey at the facility more than a genuine love interest. And her own demons – which matter in the long run – are barely explored over the course of the picture. In fact, we never learn know how she got there in the first place. All that matters is she’s really into Frey and he’s really into her.
Before the beginning of the film, Sam Taylor-Johnson noted that the production shot over just 20 days which, impressively, you’d never suspect. And after a truly corporate experience making “Fifty Shades of Grey” this project feels like a partial attempt to return Taylor-Johnson to her artistic roots. That’s evident in the previously noted sequences that are surreal and fanciful in Frey’s imagination even if they seem disconnected from whatever statement Taylor-Johnson is trying to say with the narrative. That being said, a few are inspired, including a visually memorable moment that ends the film. Even if the context of the moment and the movie still leaves you wanting. [C+]
Check out all our coverage from the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival here.