Prep schooler Charlie (Chris O'Donnell in his star-making role) is not in the same economic bracket as most of his peers, so he can't return to his Oregon home from New England for the holidays yet. For extra income, he agrees to look after completely blind, retired lieutenant colonel Frank (Al Pacino) for the weekend while Frank's niece, her husband, and their kids go on vacation. It soon becomes obvious why they're not taking him along and why nobody else applied for the job: Frank's a jerk. Immediately after the rest of the family leaves, he takes charge and flies off to New York City, with Charlie reluctantly in tow and unable to return when he wants. Frank's goals are to crash the Thanksgiving dinner of his brother's family, live it up like an alcoholic millionaire at the Waldorf-Astoria...and commit suicide.
Charlie has other things on his mind, too. Specifically, as one of two known witnesses to the setup of a major prank on the headmaster (James Rebhorn), he has to decide whether to tell on three guys who aren't exactly his friends. In his case, it could make the difference between expulsion and recommendation to Harvard. The other witness, not-quite-friend George (the youngest Philip Seymour Hoffman I've ever seen), pressures him not to talk, but Charlie's phone conversations indicate an evolving situation for George. Frank, for his part, recognizes how tough it must be for Charlie and seems willing to support him either way. (Personally, I usually sympathize with informants when the offense in question is bad enough, but this prank is actually pretty clever.)
So apart from being domineering, drunken, and eager to die on the hired help's watch, what kind of jerk is Frank? When we first meet him, he's grumpy, badmouthing his entire seemingly pleasant family and going nearly drill sergeant on the newcomer. That largely clears up once he's off to NYC, but he still tends to neglect to use his indoor voice (I don't think he's hard of hearing too) and remains generally rude and unruly. When's the last time I wished violence on a blind person?
Oh, Frank can be suave in the presence of an unrelated woman, but I bet most women wouldn't like what he says about them behind their backs. Yeah, the title's a hint of his creepiness. I don't think I'm bringing an overly modern perspective on this. In fact, since this movie came out a year after The Silence of the Lambs, I bet lots of contemporary viewers thought of Hannibal Lecter.
What really bugs me is that, apart from eventually giving up on suicide, Frank doesn't really change. Sure, he grows close to Charlie, and I understand why the feeling is mutual, but I can't imagine he's a good influence on the developing boy. Charlie even lets him drive, knowing full well that Frank might kill them both on purpose. The best thing Charlie does is grow enough of a spine to stand up to Frank, but only when it counts the absolute most.
Did Pacino merit his Best Actor Oscar that year? Not sure. I realize the Academy can be a sucker for disabilities, and faking blindness without shades seems pretty tricky. (Note that Frank sometimes pretends he can see, as when he invites Charlie closer for a better "look.") I suppose I'd put him ahead of Stephen Rea in The Crying Game and Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven, and Robert Downey Jr. in Chaplin has the downside of semi-comedy, but Denzel Washington had to bring energy to the tour de force of Malcolm X. I'll call it a draw.
Martin Brest hasn't directed much else of note besides Midnight Run. I find both films only moderately credible and average for enjoyment. Metacritic, in contrast to IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes, appears to agree with me on SoaW.
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