George Clooney can’t help but be the kind of actor whose eyebrows and line delivery indicate that he knows, for instance, how to describe a jellyfish or when to punch somebody in the nose. He’s the least ineffectual-seeming actor I can think of. Matt King, Clooney’s character in The Descendants, doesn’t punch anyone in the nose, though he has plenty of good opportunities to do so; he also flops around barefoot and stares at black-and-white portraits of his ancestors on Hawaiian walls as his diluted feelings float away on breezes of pikake. He hasn’t been there for his family of four until his wife becomes comatose in a Jet Ski accident, but what he was doing instead (busy with real estate law?), an interesting question, is never really addressed. Maybe nobody cares what King was up to in Hawaii during his emotional absence, but I do, because he’s George Clooney and inherently more interesting than Matt King.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
does not like The Descendants. My review here. (Grantland)