Angels may not respond to every voice in need, but they'll certainly
answer a screenwriter's prayers. Any time a character gets into an
unresolvable jam--whether it's George Bailey contemplating suicide in It's
a Wonderful Life, or Tim Robbins in The Hudsucker Proxy launching himself
off a high rise--an angel can appear to reverse time, rewrite history,
raise the dead, and generally caulk any gaping cracks in the narrative. No
wonder they're so hip these days. They're the perfect New Age panacea--the
'90s equivalent of a shmoo.
You can gauge the implausibility of a movie by the number of angels
required to fix the plot. Wings of Desire is an exception--a movie
with Bruno Ganz and Peter Falk as angels has no credibility problems. But
for most movies, having more than one supernatural agent of change is
asking for trouble. It's a Wonderful Life needs only one; Angels
in the Outfield needs a whole outfield. It's a bad sign, then, when
A Life Less Ordinary opens with an entire office building full of
seraphim.
In this curio, a baffling mix of romantic fantasy, hyperbolic melodrama,
and screwball comedy, a heavenly precinct commander (Dan Hedaya) dispatches
two agents to earth to bring together two destined lovers: Robert (Ewan
McGregor), a daydreaming janitor in a vast corporation, and Celine (Cameron
Diaz), the jaded daughter of the corporation's owner (Ian Holm). When
Robert loses his job, he unexpectedly retaliates by kidnapping Celine. The
father seeks revenge; the two angels (Holly Hunter and Delroy Lindo) pose
as bounty hunters and accept his assignment to track down the future
lovebirds.
But ya know, if the angels have all that heavenly omniscience, why do
they need to be hired at all? Why do their schemes even backfire, when they
can anticipate exactly where the lovebirds are headed and how they'll
respond? And if angels are spirits, can they be killed or not? These
questions should be answered long before you add your first angel to the
mix, even if you're making a madcap farce--especially if you're
making a madcap farce, which depends on strict rules of character,
behavior, and incident. But the angels--like the mad dentist, the cabin
with the survivalist neighbors, the bank robbery, and the big karaoke dance
number--are just whimsical indulgences that mirror something from the
filmmakers' moviegoing past. Once Hunter and Lindo start toting machine
guns and rigging attempted murders, you realize director Danny Boyle and
screenwriter John Hodge will have to employ every celestial host in that
building to patch their scrapheap of a plot.
The ramshackle plotting, self-conscious quirks, and inconsistent
characters may make A Life Less Ordinary a failure, but at least
it's not a dull failure. McGregor's charm remains thoroughly winning, a few
oddball gags hit their target, and the karaoke number to "Beyond the Sea"
is actually a balmy delight. It's even sort of fun to watch Holly Hunter
overact this broadly, although I'm still wondering why she switches from a
raspy Walter Brennan imitation to La Femme Nikita. In most other respects
A Life Less Ordinary reflects a cinematic truth: The more angels you
add to a script, the likelier you are to wind up with an unholy
mess.