Jack Goes Boating

The king of indie films, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s career has been consistently punctuated by beautiful variations on the same character. Boogie Nights, Synecdoche, New York, Happiness and even his gorgeous voice performance in the animated Mary And Max have cemented his on-screen persona as the awkward, overweight, child-like neurotic desperately trying to make a connection.
In his directorial debut Jack Goes Boating, Hoffman again plays up to his strengths. But as with so many films from actors-turned-directors (and in particular actors-turned-directors-directing-themselves), his pet project becomes a somewhat self-indulgent exaggerated acting exercise.
Adapted from Bob Glaudini’s play, Jack Goes Boating focuses on Jack (Hoffman), an insecurity-ridden limo driver who embarks upon a journey of self-improvement in order to woo the similarly broken Connie (the beautifully vulnerable Amy Ryan). Deciding to take her on a boating trip, Jack’s goals are clear, and his visualisation of them becomes a constant, overwrought theme of the film. As whimsical cuts and visual tricks transport Jack from swimming lessons to the streets of New York, he struggles to stay afloat and fight against waves of self-doubt. His desire to cook for Lucy then becomes an introduction to the world of sensuality, his practice of the movements involved in food preparation echoing his desire for physical connection.
Hoffman the actor handles each moment beautifully, and Jack’s overwhelming self-doubt is heart-wrenching. However Hoffman the director’s insistence on these obvious heavy metaphors becomes tedious, too artful and contrived to be emotionally engaging. Similar problems arise in the portrayal of the film’s secondary relationship between the superb John Ortiz and Daphne Rubin-Vega. A discomforting examination of jealousy and crumbling communication, the couple’s struggles are relatable, but too faithful to the source material, while their lengthy, dialogue-heavy, overly dramatic scenes always feel theatrical, studied and too distant to be truly impactful.
Beautifully acted but precious, Hoffman’s character study tries desperately for weighty emotion, but the results are disappointingly slight.