Mel Gibson gives a fantastic performance here – but then I guess he’s really playing himself, a burnt out middle aged family man who loathes himself and his life. (At times I couldn’t help thinking maybe the technique his character uses here would work for Mel in real life).
You wonder why, then, half the film is devoted to the escapades of his son, which really don’t have anything to do with Mel. This goes on and on, while more interesting Mel is ignored.
Also some of it doesn’t ring true: a valedictorian having to pay a boy to write her speech? Would the beaver really be a craze that sweeps the nation? Does the beaver have to be cleaned?
Jodie Foster doesn’t have any character to play really and the young boy is just a young boy – there’s opportunities missed there. Instead they devote time to the son, and his girlfriend, and her fear of talking about her brother. Yawn, snore. A real shame. But Mel is really good.
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