The Caveman's Valentine

Hollywood has a difficult time with mental illness. Typically, delusional characters are shown from the outside, with only the actor's performance to give you a clue about what is going on inside.

This is a challenge that "The Caveman's Valentine" meets head-on. In addition to Samuel L. Jackson's fine portrayal, director Kasi Lemmons actually seeks to bring us into his world and show us the things that he sees. In most movies, this is a recipe for failure. Not here.

Samuel L. Jackson's Romulus Ledbetter is a schizophrenic Julliard-trained pianist who lives in a cave in a New York park. He hears music in his head, and is haunted by visions of "moth-seraphs", whom we see in striking surreal imagery that perhaps too much resembles last year's "The Cell" for its own good, but is effective nonetheless. Ledbetter believes in a sinister force which he calls "Cornelius Gould Stuyvesant" (a combination of the names of three significant figures in New York history), who lives atop the Chrysler Building and controls people's minds with "y-rays" and "z-rays." The scenes involving the unseen Stuyvesant are the movie's most effective. The Chrysler Building, itself a symbol of New York's wealth, towers over exterior shots, and shimmers with malevolent green light as traffic lights flash and Ledbetter looks on with horror. The sequences are mesmerizing.

Jackson's performance, too, is notable. Playing a schizophrenic homeless man seems like an opportunity to play big, ranting speeches, but Jackson plays it more subtly. Ledbetter is not a sugary stereotype or an object of pity. Jackson gives him some bite that often makes him unpleasant, but always believable.

Like the character in "Shine", it is implied that Ledbetter cracked under the pressures of genius, and in order to make it through the movie, he has to face the mind-breaking terror of performing on the piano. In one particularly affecting scene, a lawyer (played to smarmy perfection by Anthony Michael Hall; it's good to see him all grown up) asks Ledbetter to play a piece in exchange for the loan of a suit. Ledbetter plays something (which sounds like Donizetti by way of the "Blade Runner" soundtrack), and we can feel the twitchy stress as Ledbetter's fingers touch the keys. Jackson has made us believe.

There is also a vicious humor in the movie's idea that a delusional psychotic, with just a shave and a good suit, can without too much difficulty schmooze with New York art swells. I don't know if this joke is intentional, but it sure is funny.

So, what's wrong with all this? Unfortunately, "The Caveman's Valentine" takes this great, textured performance and this brilliant visual depiction of the landscape of madness and grafts it on to a clunky "Diagnosis Murder"-style plot. The clumsy story, about a death which Ledbetter becomes convinced has to do with a trendy Mapplethorpe-esque photographer, relies heavily on the three c's: coincidence, contrivance, and cliche. It's got more holes than the back wall of a firing range. In addition, Colm Feore is uninteresting as the photographer ("Wild envy surrounds me," he says at one point;) and makes a far less compelling villain than "Stuyvesant." Ann Magnuson is wasted as the photographer's sister.

Jackson is brilliant. Lemmons' visuals are brilliant. You may never look at the Chrysler Building quite the same way again. Unfortunately, there's an old saying in the military: when you mix good troops with bad, you get mediocre. And so it is with the movies, too.

I would have to agree with the review of PC Dean. It seems that Hollywood felt that they had to generate a reason to make this film. I have these horrible visions of a production meeting with people trying to figure out how they were going to be able to make a quality film and still dupe the public into going to see it. Then deciding the solution was writing in a half hearted mystery theme. Though I do applaud most of the performances in this film, Jackson shining wonderfully, I get the impression that there wasn't enough effort put into the other characters (scriptwise), just throwing talented actors/actresses into thin air won't suddenly make your characters fly. Overall I liked the movie and applaud it's approaching the subject of mental illness. I just wonder about the attempts at main stream "popularizing" that went along with it.

I had to wait for the video on this one because it did not play in any local theaters. However, I would have paid a theater price to see it. Samuel Jackson does an outstanding job playing Romulus, the mentally ill homeless man. The story is not the most original but plays well in this setting. Not one I am going to watch again and again, but not a waste of 2 hours either.

This is another little film that held my interest more than the hyped up films sitting in theaters this summer. Samuel L. Jackson is an ex-musician/husband/father -- now a Central Park cave dweller - who is determined to solve a murder, mainly to win the respect of his cop daughter.

The story is very good, as is the casting and the acting. But the film seems rather pretentiously made in parts and Jackson's character is problematic. There is no explanation as to why a brilliant man with such moments of amazing lucidity should have shunned his wife and child and chosen homelessness rather than some sort of treatment. Still, an interesting film to see on video.

The reviews are up and down for this one, and it may be because of the psycho scenes. As the first reviewer noted, it does a good job of getting the viewer inside the psycho's head, but if you aren't into strange scenes with psychotic visions, confusing sequences, etc you might find it tedious. These aren't the crisp psycho scene like in The Cell, but more like visions. The plot is good, and the supporting acting is adequate. But watching this nut stumble around trying to catch a crook might be too off the wall for some people. I'd give it a 6.5/10.