Viktor Taransky (Al Pacino) is a washed-up film director. His family is in shambles, his ex-wife (Catherine Keener, “Out of Sight”) is dating a yuppie named Kent, and creditors continually harass him.
To make matters worse, his most recent film was ruined when a demanding actress (Winona Rider, “Mermaids”) walked out because her trailer was not high enough. He sees himself as an artist who refuses to compromise his integrity; others see him as a two-bit director whose art-house films have no chance of turning a profit.
After losing his job, he meets Hank Aleno, (Elias Koteas, “The Thin Red Line”), an eccentric computer programmer, who offers him a tool that promises to revolutionize the way movies are made. This tool comes in the form of a digital creation indistinguishable from a human actress.
In Viktor’s words, “Our ability to create fake has surpassed our ability to discern it.” Viktor passes Simone (model Claudia Jordan) off as a real person, and she quickly becomes Hollywood’s biggest star. This digital creation inspires obsession, idealization and love from a world that believes she is real. The only problem is that Viktor begins to resent Simone’s celebrity and power.
“Simone’s” director, Andrew Niccol, (“Gattaca”) is a brilliant young writer-director who unfortunately fails to live up to his past endeavors. Niccol previously dealt with similar issues of realism and entertainment in “The Truman Show.”
In “Simone,” however, he flips the examination on its head. In “The Truman Show,” the entire world was a creation and a single individual was real; in “Simone,” the entire world is real while a single individual is not. This new approach is ultimately more pessimistic and infinitely less enjoyable.
This shortcoming results from several factors. First, the characters in “Simone” are either vapid caricatures or downright despicable. The superstar actress is picky, spoiled and stupid. The ex-wife is at first a real hard-ass, but in the end we find out that she really cares for Viktor–or at least she does after he re-establishes his career.
Viktor’s daughter never stops believing in dear old dad, and golly-gee shucks, ends up saving the day. The computer programmer is an obsessed recluse suffering from severe mental disturbances. I realize that in the latter case art must imitate life; yet at the end of the film the audience is left desperately wanting an interesting, well-conceived character that has greater depth than a sitcom guest star.
Second, there is no real revelation. The modern entertainment industry manufactures celebrity, and for the most part the public is quite savvy about this fact. When one of the most popular television shows revels in its ability to create a pop idol before America’s eyes, the idea that a director would create a fake superstar is blasé.
Americans readily accept that the public personas of the actors and actresses they love are artificial. We don’t need a movie to beat us over the head with this fact.
Pacino does all he can with the screenplay given to him. The script forces him to recite dull monologue after dull monologue and interact with painfully two-dimensional characters. Even confined to such drudgery, he manages to shine. The rest of the actors perform the job they are asked to do and not a bit more.
As for the extent to which this movie is successful is as a comedy–I caught myself laughing out loud several times and appreciated some of the more subtle jokes interspersed throughout the picture. There are some very funny details, such as the names of minor characters and the movies Viktor directs (i.e. “Eternity Forever”).
Moreover, there is an absolutely brilliant scene in which Simone puts on a wedding dress and, well, gets dirty. On second thought, perhaps these jokes were not so much funny as welcome oases in the parched desert of this movie.
Grade–C
