Reopening Hollywood’s cold case files

“Hollywoodland” Starring: Ben Affleck, Adrien Brody, Diane Lane Directed by Allen Coulter

… “Hollywoodland” Starring: Ben Affleck, Adrien Brody, Diane Lane Directed by Allen Coulter

out of

For anyone with a love of celebrity mysteries and cinematic legends, “Hollywoodland” pitches the full gamut of scandal and intrigue. But by spicing up a crime drama with conspiracy theories of the rich and famous, director Allen Coulter pulls one too many genre tropes for comfort.

When “Superman” actor George Reeves (Ben Affleck) is found dead in his home in 1959, the police immediately deem the shooting a suicide. Prompted by Reeves’ mother, Private Investigator Louis Simo (Adrien Brody) dodges police eagerness to keep the case closed and uncovers new evidence. As signs of possible foul play start turning up, Simo gets sucked into a mafia-like underworld of studio pressure and highly placed influence.

“Hollywoodland” divides its time between Simo’s investigation and the years leading up to Reeves’ death. After a smattering of small roles, Reeves seduces Toni Mannix (Diane Lane), wife of MGM Vice President Eddie Mannix. Toni establishes Reeves financially, but it’s with great reluctance that he dons Superman’s signature spandex.

After being firmly typecast as the man more powerful than a locomotive, Reeves grows desperate for a legitimate film role and the chance to squash the superhero status. His mounting depression, romantic woes and rough split with Toni all conspire to create anything but an open-and-shut case.

Affleck captures the campy frankness of Reeves’ Superman, avoiding the vogue of “squinting and mumbling” found in modern acting. His portrayal charms in a way that is neither sincere nor original, but the viewer is enticed by the debonair edge. A character actor can convince with pure style and little substance, and Affleck channels Reeves in the same fashion as Cate Blanchett’s Hepburn in “The Aviator.”

In depicitng Toni Mannix, a victim of Reeves’ charm, Diane Lane once again slips into the role of sexy-yet-aging adulteress. Toni observes that she only has another seven years or so before her bum “drops like a duffel bag,” a line that cuts painfully into the predicament of Hollywood beauty queens. In Coulter’s representation of the movie business, all forms of fame are steeped in bitterness.

The pervading sense of pessimism falls over nearly every element of “Hollywoodland.” There’s nothing cheerful about a gunshot to the temple, but the bleak atmosphere doesn’t settle comfortably over the whole film. The “disillusioned detective” concept feels stock and rather noir, particularly when Simo tries to patch up an ailing relationship with his young son. Sure, many an unemployed PI in the early ’60s was probably a grumpy alcoholic, but it feels old and only undermines the fascinating twists of Simo’s investigation.

As possible scenarios come to Simo, we see his theories play out on screen. Each round accounts for one of the evidentiary discrepancies – a scenario with a jilted fiancee, for example, accounts for the two extra bullet holes found at the crime scene – but Coulter never delivers a neat package. Reeves’ death is still a mystery and so the source material leaves us hanging in cinema as well as reality.

Coulter offers a fine array of character acting and period-piece glamour, but the lack of focus in the plot and mood hurts the overall presentation. Superman might have cleared tall buildings in a single bound, but “Hollywoodland” lacks the superhero’s magic.