Don't Come Knocking film review

certificate_15

DON'T COME KNOCKING

Once upon a time there was a great American playwright called Sam Shepard who revolutionized modern theatre with his unique tales of life in the Sates and encouraged a new generation of actors and writers to push the theatrical envelope as far as they could. Unfortunately, while the times changed, Shepard did not. His new film, which he co-wrote with the legendary director Wim Wenders shows a man lost in the past, rather like many of the characters that pepper Shepard's earlier seminal works. It's a puzzling work: one which is likely to have audiences mystified. But the greatest puzzle of all is why Wenders and Shepard thought this would have popular appeal, and how on earth they managed to get anyone to fund it.

Having said that, and before we get to the nitty-gritty, Don't Come Knocking does have one thing in its favour: it's a beautiful film to look at. Wenders is still a magician with the camera and the palette he has created with cinematographer Franz Lustig is simply luscious.

But style isn't everything, and what a shame that he didn't have a script to back it up. The film, it has to be said, is a self-indulgent, unmemorable affair which seems to exist only to please the mythical egos of those involved.

The plot: An ageing movie star named Howard Spence (Shepard) is frustrated by his life on the set of a Western, so promptly decides to ride off into the sunset, back to a town he visited twenty years ago while making another film. Here he looks up an old flame (Jessica Lange) to find out whether or not he left her pregnant. Meanwhile, a young girl in the town (Sarah Polley) is convinced that she is the Howard's daughter, and a completion guarantor from the film company (a quirky Tim Roth) is on his trail to get him back on set.

This leads to much soul-searching on Spence's behalf, as well as plenty of gnashing of teeth and (unfortunately) far too much histrionic screaming by several of the characters. It's impossible really to know what category to put it in: it's neither a believable drama, chase film, nor modern day Western. And when was the last time Mr Shepard that you saw a Western of the type that Howard Spence is meant to be making at your local cinema?