ROBIN WRIGHT PENN AND KEANU REEVES IN PIPPA LEE

Many roles, one good performance

Robin Wright Penn first became famous for a starring role in a soap opera, "Santa Barbara." And here she is 25 years later in another one, made for the silver screen this time. Though this movie is from a novel by the director Rebecca Miller (who's playwright Arthur Miller's daughter) and adapted by herl, it's very much material for a soap of the old "Valley of the Dolls" Variety with desperate housewives, impossibly rich adulterous husbands, mysterious sexy losers, drugs, changed names, a shifting cast, people running off to begin a new life, and so on.

The cast is intriguing. Race Matters author Cornel West and Monica Belluci appear in minor roles; doubtless other celebs are hidden here or there, and the venerable Shirley Knight plays a senior citizen neighbor. Maria Bello (replacing Maggie Gyllenhaal, who dropped out) plays a drug-addled mother in turbulent flashbacks; Winona Ryder (whose personal history is interesting, if not her acting) is a disloyal friend in the present when Pippa has been married for 25 years to a prominent publisher (Alan Arkin). In Seventies clothes, Julianne Moore (in flashbacks) is a lesbian who shoots bondage and discipline photos. Keanu Reeves is the mysterious sexy loser.

Reeves, which may surprise some, gives the movie's only interesting performance, one that's subtle, understated and complex, that implies more than it says. All the others parts are written and acted to scream more than signify. Every so often Reeves does something like this. Why not more often?

The flashbacks are in three segments: dysfunctional childhood; runaway dissolute youth; run-up to marriage. The young Pippa is played by two younger actors. When Penn's costumed and made up in flashbacks to look young, she's almost unrecognizable as the person in the present. Pippa's father, with the strange and unexplained name of Des Sarkissian (Tim Guinee), is a minister. Over time, Pippa discovers that her devouring mom is a suburban speed freak; the daughter is the slave to her mother's mood shifts and must run away. When she does she never goes back, but becomes a drug user herself, though the only scenes dwelt on are of a transitional time with an aunt (Robin Weigert), who turns out to be Julianne Moore's lover -- who, incredibly, is surprised to discover Pippa's being posed in the B&D photos at the apartment. Finally the flashbacks reach the point where Pippa, now a pseudo-bohemian with weird hair and artistic clothing, is taken up by Herb (Arkin), discovered living in a modernistic white mansion by the sea and wearing a hair piece; he's about 55, Pippa 25. He wants to get rid of his wife (Bellucci) but he doesn't have to: she offs herself in front of them (and guests, and the cook, watching from the kitchen) at the lunch table. Some of the party scenes at the seaside pad, more languid than this moment, almost evoke Fellini. Belluci has replaced Ekberg, and we're outside Stanford, not Rome.

Robin Wright Penn, poor thing, has said in an interview, breaking into tears, that this is the most meaningful role of her career. This is because she feels her character is depicted in so much detail. But this is naive. With good writing and acting, a character can be richly shown in scenes set over a few hours or days, while a turbulent back story can provide distraction without enlightenment. None of the lurid blasts from the past shed any particular light on Pippa's present except to say that sometimes women with messy beginnings wind up in conventional and relatively serene marriages. All those melodramatic and colorful scenes mean nothing: they add no insight into the characters. With all the flashbacks, nobody seems real. How Pippa got to be in her present state of sedated uxoriousness with a feisty 80- year-old, what her 25 years of marriage to him were like, raising two grown children, Brian (Ryan McDonald), a young lawyer, and Grace (Zoe Kazan, Elia's granddaughter), a photojournalist working on the front lines: of all this little is said, and less shown.

If this movie had a heart, it would be the present-time dying marriage with Herb (Arkin), whose heart is in shaky shape, ,though his ego is robust. At the outset the couple has just moved to a posh Connecticut retirement compound because Herb has recently had three heart attacks. Arkin has his now familiar feisty manner, but his character, still apparently active in publishing even nearing 80, is less simplistic and caricatural than the grandpa in Little Miss Sushine. There are signs that Herb may be losing his marbles, but it turns out to be Pippa who's sleepwalking -- and, new thing, sleep-driving her car to a convenience store where she's rescued by Chris (Keanu Reeves), 35-year-old son of Shirley Knight and staying with her after a meltdown in his life out West. A gentle relationship with Chris develops. He's a somewhat crudely limned Jesus figure, with Jesus actually emblazoned all over his (surprisingly flabby) chest, and a failed attempt to become a Jesuit in his background. But despite these outlines, his understated performance makes him the only person capable of surprising us.

This movie reminded me of the late Walt Stack, longtime president of San Francisco's Dolphin South End Runners Club. "You've got to hand it to us turtles," he used to say at the start of a race. "We're the ones who make you hotshots look good." You've got to hand it to lousy movies like Pippa Lee: watching them makes you appreciate the good ones.

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©Chris Knipp 2009