Spoiled Reviews

The Pursuit of Misery

Spoilers below

Will Smith has lamented in recent interviews that his newest film would sell astronomical numbers of ticket—if only he could reveal the plot without ruining the movie. While the economic fate of his re-teaming with Pursuit of Happyness director Gabriele Muccino probably lies mostly on the public’s undying love of the Fresh Prince, he and Gabby certainly have an intriguing concept.

Smith is a man who, from the earliest moments of the film, is obviously wracked by crippling guilt. He’s experienced an accident both tragic and too terrifying to remember until well into the third act. So we are left confused as to why a man who lives in an unthinkably glamorous beach house keeps solemnly introducing himself to people as an IRS agent. He has all of their tax information, so it seems to fit, but he obviously has come to this station only recently in life. Or he’s inconceivably corrupt.

It becomes clear very quickly that he is in a position to change a number of people’s lives for the better, but he wants to make sure they deserve it. Several of them are ill, most are in dire financial straights, but he’s vetting each one very methodically (let’s just say he’s more thorough than the McCain campaign.)

One patient in particular stands out, probably because she’s played by Rosario Dawson, but also because her case is the most tragic. She’s a young, beautiful woman in the prime of her life, unfairly facing an early death due to a congenital heart defect. (Much sadder than the lonely middle aged blind guy or the Hispanic women with two kids who’s boyfriend beats her mercilessly. Right?)

Dawson is quirky (she’s a print maker by trade and owns a vegetarian Great Dane the size of a mule) but not sickeningly cute. And her upbeat attitude in the face of impending death plays well against Will Smith’s aching solemnity. He’s the kind of character who swims in the ocean, stares at his pet jellyfish while holding his face in his hands and tells stories about two brothers, one of whom wanted to fly and one who just couldn’t ever get off the ground. He’s a bit sullen but, with that appropriate dash of effervescent charisma, not a bad sort of hero. And what a hero.

See it turns out, in that story of the two brothers, he was the ambitious one (even though we are supposed to think otherwise due to a little name switch trickery). He turned out to be an aerospace engineer, the kind who makes millions of dollars and can afford that glamorous beach house, but it all came crashing down when he killed 7 people in a car wreck, including his lovely wife. (That plane crash line I just used is right at the level of metaphor this movie thinks is clever and meaningful.)

He convinces himself he is undeserving of even pursuing happiness, and therefore plots to kill himself to help some of those who cannot help themselves. (That’s where the jellyfish comes in.) He’s already donated kidneys and bone marrow, his house and money, but now he’s decided to make the ultimate sacrifice and give young Miss Dawson his heart (I warned you about the metaphors).

Of course they fall in love, and he allows himself the smallest amount of pleasure with her, making his eventual choice that much more heart-wrenching. He chooses death and, thus, life for her. There are some tearful moments for the cast and the audience. The most touching moment comes after Smith goes off to take his jellyfish assisted neurotoxin icebath. Dawson finds herself alone in bed (surprising to her, since Smith was just in it). Her special beeper is going off telling her that the heart she needs so badly is finally available. Her look of confusion when she realizes that there is no one there to share this special moment with jerks more than a few tears, cleanly and fairly. The rest are all fouls, manipulated moments that only meet their goal because of the charming leads and a satisfyingly small supporting performance by Woody Harrelson.

It feels bad to beat up on a movie so convinced of its own good intentions, but the picture doesn’t offer much of a foothold for those of us willing to be charitable. It’s good for a cry although not an emotionally fulfilling one (check out the tragic documentary “Dear Zachary” for a thorough wiping of your emotional slate). The story is certainly twisty, but never unpredictable, and the film as a whole misjudges the impact of its ending. Seven Pounds seems to rely on the public remembering Will Smith as happy in other movies, because in this one he’s so depressive and depressing it’s almost a relief to put him out of his misery.

-Brian Stitt