Critic's Grade: C-

Frank's film tip: THE SOLOIST is not necessarily music to the ears in Joe Wright's manipulative music-making melodrama

Movies about the human spirit can be undoubtedly uplifting and poignant in its poetic message. However, the genre of the “based on a true story” narrative can also flirt with borderline tendencies of being mawkish and manipulative. It is always a gamble to sell the triumphant tale of adversity because the feelings of the audience are there for the taking in exploitative sentimentality.

Although ambitious in its lyrical presentation, filmmaker Joe Wright’s The Soloist plays a stale tune of cliched melancholy musical chairs. Wright (“Atonement”) and screenwriter Susannah Grant (“Erin Brockovich”) concoct an earnest account of a brilliant man in quiet despair yet the aimless story never seems to evolve from the usual manufactured human interest angle that manages to linger in the partial confines of pretentiousness.

In essence, The Soloist is based on the actual life experiences of Nathaniel Ayers, a Los Angeles-based schizophrenic homeless man possessed with the musical brilliance and artistry despite his downward spiral. Oscar-winner Jamie Foxx provides an inspired performance as the tortured yet talented musician stuck in his angst-ridden shell. Regardless of the noteworthy cast which includes two-time Oscar nominee Robert Downey, Jr. as a Los Angeles Times columnist that wants to bring Ayers’s unique situation to the forefront, The Soloist stalls in its quest for an underdog story looking for emotional validation.

Basically, the premise is rather self-explanatory as Downey’s inquisitive newspaper scriber Steve Lopez comes across Foxx’s desperate and destitute Ayers and wants to explore the mystery as to why a Julliard-trained musical wonder could end up as a vulnerable victim of the streets. Lopez senses that Ayers’s plight could be a distinctive story worth investigating. Inevitably, Lopez tails Ayers in hopes of capturing the homeless man’s musical mystique while tapping into the possibilities of lifting this man’s misplaced spirit as he discovers his inner soul for creating noteworthy arrangements on a second-hand violin.

As Ayers and Lopez become closer and connected through research, the readers become involved and yearn to be part of this terrific and tender experience. In particular, one moved observer generously donates a cello to the paper for Ayers to work his musical magic in harmony. Of course Lopez’s intense focus on Ayers’s growing profile leads to his neglect of other considerations. Current editor/boss and ex wife Mary Weston (Catherine Keener) notices the distraction and detachment of Lopez. Seemingly, Ayers’s dubious circumstance takes some considerable precedence at the moment.

There are flashes of nobility and notable pathos situated in The Soloist. The stark realities of homelessness and mental illness is presented up front with a sharp harshness that is required to serve as a wake-up call to societal injustices that plagues millions of people on a daily basis. The element of friendship is cemented in the mutual understanding of two conflicted men trying to grasp the nature of their personalized torment. Interestingly, the film does shine a spotlight on the obvious question: is Ayers merely opportunistic fodder for Lopez’s surging written columns or is his crusade to promote this resilient music-making homeless has-been a redeeming factor for the cynical newspaperman?

Instinctively, The Soloist is reminiscent of another film that celebrated the haunting madness of a misguided musician in battle with disease-ridden demons in the Oscar-winning Shine. The difference is that Shine had demonstrated discipline and scope in its sophisticated clarity for the superb characterizations and heartfelt dramatic overtones. In The Soloist, Wright pretty much strains the drama with soppy superlatives and traces of gimmicky gratitude that leaves film feeling naked in its bid for touching us in soapy heavy-handed mode.

Granted that the film is shot exquisitely and the selection of music is pleasantly inviting. As previously mentioned the performances are solid and convincing by both leads in Foxx and Downey, Jr. Still, the syrupy pacing and intrusion of musical montages are as wincing as the orchestrated facial gestures of Foxx’s twitching alter ego Nathaniel Ayers. Sure, there’s an occasonal calming and well-intentioned vision and vitality to The Soloist that one can admire with entertaining forethought. Nevertheless, the high-powered performers or “triumph-over-tragedy” foundation can not keep The Soloist from reinforcing the same old lopsided lyrics in puppy-eyed sensibility.

In short, The Soloist may be welcomed music to the soothing ears but a synthetic tearjerker to the hungry eyes.

Frank rates this film: ** stars (out of 4 stars)

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