Uplifting films often leave an audience member with a triumphant and inspirational feeling upon exiting the movie theatre. Director Joe Wright’s latest drama, “The Soloist,” has all the components of a successful uplifting drama … except for the part that actually “uplifts” you. The story is entertaining, the actors are perfectly cast, but the plot can at times be misleading and confusing, despite being based on a recent and fascinating true story. The movie stars Jamie Foxx as Nathaniel Ayers, a schizophrenic musician who went from studying at Julliard to living on the Los Angeles streets. Robert Downey Jr. co-stars as Steve Lopez, the LA Times reporter who, while having a few personal problems of his own, unintentionally meets Nathaniel, profits off his plight and eventually bonds with him.
While Jamie Foxx‘s performance is often held back by an ineffective script, it is definitely a highlight of the film. He plays a man who is so tight, anxious and paranoid that he is often relentless and unwilling to accept the reality of his sickness. Nathaniel spends the majority of his time playing a two-string violin outside the different landmark buildings of Los Angeles in what resembles a clown outfit. Jamie Foxx almost certainly accepted this role not only because of its appealing back-story, but also because of the presence of a filmmaking environment that many believed would earn Foxx his second Oscar. Unfortunately for him, the collaboration between both a talented director and screenwriter is surprisingly unsuccessful in creating a film worthy of the Oscar buzz it will eventually receive.
As the film opens, we are introduced first to Lopez’s troubles. His marriage is in the gutter, he’s dealing with writer’s block along with difficulty finding inspiration at work and to top it all off he has just experienced a pretty nasty bicycle crash. After scarring his face on the pavement on his way to work that morning, Lopez (along with the rest of us) is drawn to the enchanting sounds being produced by Ayers outside of the Times building. Interestingly enough, the first thing you notice about Nathaniel is not his worn down appearance or mobile home (shopping cart), but instead it is his music. Lopez immediately recognizes this talent and tries to get to know him, charmingly engaging in conversation with Nathaniel and ensuring him that he himself has also experienced some setbacks. Steve proceeds to write his first column on this new subject, and by doing so learns that Ayers was once the most promising young student of music in one of the world’s most prestigious art schools, Julliard. Readers slowly begin to appreciate the story, and one is even generous enough to send Nathaniel a new cello … this time with all its strings. However, these events quickly result in Nathaniel’s belief that he has found a true friend and companion in Steve, a responsibility that the newly inspired columnist is initially hesitant to accept.
Along with the casting, “The Soloist” also does a very effective job in recreating the gritty and unfortunate homeless neighborhoods of Los Angeles. Many of these scenes often succeed in showing why so many individuals attempt to avoid homeless shelters and rehab centers, an act that many believe to be ill advised. Where this film fails is its inability to make Ayers out to be a truly sporadic and explosive mentally sick man. While Jamie Foxx does portray the character in a convincing manner, it is still evident that he is relying too much on the script, instead of exploring what it means to be truly disconnected with the rest of the world. This is a disappointment, especially when considering the previous work of director Joe Wright (“Atonement“) and writer Susannah Grant (“Erin Brockovich“). As the disillusioned and quick-witted newspaper columnist, Robert Downey Jr. succeeds in delivering what is the film’s most impressive and only Oscar-worthy portrayal. He brings to the screen his well known sarcastic smartass personality that we all know and love, while simultaneously achieving a truly dramatic and emotional performance.