It comes to something…
…when Justin Timberlake is the best thing about a film. Alpha Dog is the film in question, and it is rubbish. Pointless and annoying use of split screen, a story ‘based on true events’ that leaves you scratching your head why anybody would think it worthwhile committing it to celluloid, and uniformly terrible performances, including an hilariously hammy turn from Sharon Stone, padded out with ‘fat fuck’ make-up. The great Harry Dean Stanton wanders into view occasionally, clearly befuddled about what he’s supposed to be doing, and Bruce Willis sports a distracting hairpiece.
Nick Cassavetes, the director, is the son of John Cassavetes, the ’60s/’70s improv-heavy indie director/actor. Clearly he’s inherited none of his dad’s talents.
And yet, and yet… I was talking with Rachel after we’d watched it, and mentioned that, unlike many other pursuits, I don’t begrudge the loss of an hour or two when I’ve seen a crap film. It’s still a film, and even a shit film is better than no film.
