What if your greatest gift turned into your biggest curse? How would it affect those you left behind?
For Martin (Tim Roth), a seemingly content music teacher, that's the possible riddle behind the disappearance of his childhood friend, Dovidl (Clive Owen), a Polish violin prodigy who disappeared 31 years ago before the biggest concert of his life. When a young violinist strikes a similar chord that Dovidl did, Martin sets off on a search for his friend. What takes place next is ... well, it's rather dull. Francois Girard's new film, "The Song of Names," looks pretty from the outside, but lacks a soul on the inside. Inspired by a true story, it fails to make a dent.
This is an example of a movie with a proper setup and talented actors that simply doesn't connect emotionally with the viewer. As the film recaps how Martin and Dovidl met and became friends, you begin to understand their bond, but never feel close enough to it to be moved. There's a constant separation between the viewer and the story, which — in a film that deals with the long term effects of war on a child — shouldn't have been the case. Dovidl was dropped off at Martin's house as a kid by his Polish father, who disappeared, thus leaving Martin's father as adopted mentor in his life. This push and pull created a divide between Martin and his father, which takes up some of the fury that has built up in him over the years.
There's a ton of flashback in this film, which leaves the focus off the adult actors, who have the most charisma and chance to turn this movie around into something worthy of something more than a passionate glance. You spend time with teenage Martin and Dovidl before cycling back to the grown-up Martin, who continues to look for his friend. The screenplay's structure is troubling and served in blocks, which alienates the viewer.
Roth is a capable actor, but he has little to do here playing a guy seemingly packed with conflict and trauma, but lacking much intrigue at the same time. The onus of the film falls on Martin's shoulders, but since he is given little space in the screenplay to access the endless terrain of anger and remorse, the role falls flat for all three actors playing him. Owen doesn't show up for over an hour and doesn't convince as an unorthodox Jew who banished the world. Once again, both characters are built to provide quality portrayals, but they don't get the opportunity. This is a case where the story is much better than the actual screenplay. Working with Norman Lebrecht's novel and story, screenwriter Jeffrey Laine knows how to hold the bat but can't properly swing it and make contact with the ball.
If the film had used its legs a little more and gotten to act three a little faster, which would have allowed us more time with Roth and Owen, perhaps the film's impact would have been felt. Sure, "The Song of Names" contains a few potent moments — one involving a Priest singing the saddest hymn ever — but lacks the overall ferocity that should have come with Lebrecht's powerful story. When you have Roth and Owen, as well as Catherine McCormack and Saul Rubinek, the movie should punch harder. Sometimes, the screenplay is the make or break factor.
It could have been a really good TV series, which would have given the story and overall tale the proper amount of time to stretch out. We may never get to find out.
"The Song of Names" isn't a particularly bad movie, but it's not a good one either. Save it for home viewing and go catch "1917" and "Uncut Gems" instead.
