GENIUS – Review

Sometimes words are just words. Other times a strong voice can bring written words to life. That is the goal of a writer after all. In GENIUS, Max Perkins (played by Colin Firth) is a man who helps bring these words to life, albeit, sometimes in a more condensed or cohesive form. He’s an editor for Charles Scribner’s Sons in New York in 1929.  Thomas Wolfe (Jude Law) is a boisterous struggling writer when Perkins barges into Perkins’ office with the hope to be the next classic writer published by the company, following in the footsteps of Hemingway and Fitzgerald, respectively. The ups and downs of this creative partnership push both of these men to their limits, as well as that of their wives (Nicole Kidman and Laura Linney).

When reading great works of literature, it’s easy to forget the blood, sweat, and tears that go into such an undertaking. Classics don’t just appear; they are created by real people with real talent. However, the people in GENIUS seem to have been washed away in the rainy streets of New York. GENIUS spends so much time highlighting the text of the main character and reading it aloud for the audience to savor, that after so long the words lose their impact. It can’t be enough that the stories are well written. What should be the focus in this film are the characters behind the words.

Jude Law acts as if he’s on the stage. Every line of dialogue and each facial expression is exaggerated beyond the point of overacting. At least Colon Firth plays it straighter and naturalistic, in stark contrast to Law’s vaudevillian exercise is theatrics. “I know I sound like a circus freak… Too loud, too grandiose,” Law’s Wolfe admits with a faint sense of heart. However, this explanation still doesn’t excuse why Law feels like a colorful cartoon character in a film so muted that it’s practically black and white.

There are moments where you see John Logan’s script attempt to capture the tortured relationship between writer and editor. A scene early on between Perkins and F. Scott Fitzgerald (Guy Pearce) reveals the tortured soul of an artist and the struggles of a mentor who has to be the strong one to pick the artist up when he is down. It’s a simple scene that feels nuanced and alive – two elements that are missing in the bromance between Perkins and Wolfe.

Ben Davis’ moody washed-out cinematography has elements of greatness. His use of lighting recalls the work of Roger Deakins – which is not a sentence I write lightly. But that’s about all that works in Michael Grandage’s directorial debut. In an exercise of style over substance, GENIUS seems more fascinated with the look of Depression-era New York – the clothes and music of the period, the sight of fingers punching away on a typewriter, and the smoky offices filled with manuscripts piled up on every surface. It’s a period piece filled with characters instead of people.

Overall Rating: 2.5 out of 5

GENIUS is now playing in select theaters