It’s OK to say no, James Franco.
Really. People will understand. You apparently thrive on doing all the things all the time, and that’s fine. But passing on just one project probably won’t hurt you. And that one project maybe should have been “Good People.”
In “Good People,” which was released on Friday, James Franco and Kate Hudson play a couple chasing the American dream. Forget that they are in London. Forget that they are burdened with the clearly leading names Tom and Anna Wright. They’re just two people struggling to keep their heads above water, to have everything they were promised. They’re trying to get pregnant. They’re renovating the house of their dreams — and hemorrhaging money.
“Why did we do this?,” asks Anna Wright. “So we could have a life,” answers Tom Wright, in what should have been a scream, but comes out like an afterthought to the necessary exhalation of breath. Air would be exiting James Franco’s lungs anyway, so why not place some plot there?
Things are falling apart (lest the audience forget the desperate straits of this couple, the oppressively stark gray tones of the film serve as a constant reminder: life is bleak, and things are bad). A shady basement tenant, a death and a series of improbabilities land the couple with £250,000 in a duffel bag. Surely the Wrights are owed something good. Surely they can use just a little. What starts as a simple credit card payment snowballs. Meanwhile, two competing drug bosses and a suspicious Scotland Yard detective close in on the pair.
“Good People” is based on a novel of the same name by Marcus Sakey, which was a thriller that questioned what is “right” in a corrupt world. The film tries to ask that question, but seeks it with an artsiness outside its grasp.
Danish director Henrik Ruben Genz expresses his vision with extreme camera angles, particularly before the typical thriller moments, but the purpose vacillates wildly between the emotionless viewer, the omnipotent judge or the horrifying jump scene. Without a clear set-up for the angles, the hyper-camera merely distracts from the film.
The same is true of the constant voice-over dialogue. Exposition is not given a set location or conversation. It hangs in the air without source as the silent actors gaze dolefully over scenery. Franco and Hudson muse over thoughts of what to do with money, how to handle their relationship and plans for the future all while completely disassociated from their words.
This lack of action is jarringly intercut with scenes of graphic brutality. Jack (Sam Spruell), the local gravelly-voiced gangster who clearly wishes he were in a Guy Ritchie movie, dispenses intense violence that the camera lingers on. While not usually a problem, this viciousness is done without heart, motivation or any sense of belonging in this oddly amateurish movie.
What it comes down to is a lack of heart. “Good People” has a great cast and wants you to know it, if the trailer’s overt “ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE” sign with each actor’s name is any indication.
But the cast is ineffectual. Hudson plays the baby-hungry damsel in distress with some conviction, but her actions are never clearly explained. The reliable Tom Wilkinson’s detective goes from threatening to teddy bear at breakneck pace, with a one-line backstory that tries to explain everything but explains nothing.
And Franco. James Franco. He can be good. He always proves himself an interesting actor, most recently in 2012 with “Spring Breakers.” But his grill-wearing thug had heart, and Franco clearly enjoyed that role.
Here, he relies on the patented shrug-and-sigh for all his lines, but those doleful eyes don’t fool anyone anymore. Franco puts absolutely no effort into the character of Tom — including one apology that is a contender for least emotional “sorry” ever put to film, so woe betide any boyfriends taking relationship cues from this flick.
What “Good People” boils down to is a film with a good cast and a good idea, but a lame script with a lack of direction. Not thriller, not moral drama and not interesting, “Good People” is a complete dud.
