Review of Joy (2015) by Danny L — 23 Jan 2016

In a deplorable winter season of uninteresting remakes and expedient sequels, both overt and hidden, "JOY" is a genuine misery belonging in the latter subterfuge. A very lazy effort by David Russell, the insipid feature reprises appearances by three primary characters (Lawrence, De Niro, and Cooper), all ostensibly performing new roles, yet basically playing nothing more than the same old tired version of themselves, with a few minor wrinkles added to the presentation. Most pathetic is De Niro who, at one time was heralded as one of the greatest actors of his day, a chameleon unlike any other...and for the past several years, reduced to playing carbon copies of himself in every feature in which he appears. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!

A few directors have worked with a tight ensemble of familiar collaborators (e.g., Woody Allen) but most resist the urge because the genuinely adventurous and smart directors recognize that embracing the strange, as scary as that might be, is a great stimulus to creativity...the new actor who challenges an entrenched approach...the devil's advocate film editor who suggests alternative perspectives...and although familiarity upon the movie set provides a safe, comfortable and cozy environment, along with great fun at the bar and/or in the bedroom after the shoot shuts down, the refusal to conquer new artistic frontiers via brave new choices typically undermines innovation and leads to cannibalizing past material. Of course, that disease is not restricted to Russell's latest insipid and excremental effort; it is a tragic epidemic that afflicts all of Hollywood today, in its superabundance of sequels, remakes, franchising, and incestuous in-breeding amongst a limited stable of creatives to the exclusion of invigorating new blood from out-of-the box thinkers. To that effect, Hollywood today is merely a sad reflection of the increasingly dysfunctional society itself, one that idolizes corporatism and places "safe" financial considerations far ahead of creative risk-taking.

Speaking metaphorically, Russell needs to let go of his "mommy's apron," discard his "security blanket," in the form of JLaw, BCoop, and RDe, and should be prohibited from working with the same actors again because, if he repeats this huge error, his glory days are done. In fact, any studio that opts to work with him again after this monumental disaster should write that imperative into his new contract.

Suffice it to say the central flaw in the execrable production is the lazy casting although the trivial story itself, in its veneration of a consumerist icon, is not very inspiring at a critical time when the nation desperately needs new heros who care about things that really should matter, such as solving water shortages or feeding the expanding numbers of hungry people.

Despite commercial success, Russell has yet to make an important film, one that will be lauded by future generations. His body of work is trivial and, ultimately, forgettable. It may be that Russell is one of those shallow directors overpopulating Hollywood for whom success is a poison, expunging both creativity and heart in service to more shallow priorities such as purchasing mansions, luxury cars, or bedding vacuous trophy women. Bottom line: this film is a foul stinker of epic proportions and really shocked me in terms of its inferiority to Russell's past efforts. Frankly, I've seen B-rated exploitation films from the world of Roger Corman that provide far greater emotional impact than this limp, flaccid, and impotent thing.