- Culture
- 24 Oct 02
Though not bellowing as maniacally as has sometimes been his wont, Pacino still brings all the subtlety of a flying brick to the proceedings, while useful co-stars such as Jay Mohr and Catherine Keener are under-deployed
Al Pacino at the top of his game is a massive pleasure to savour, but his CV is also heavily pockmarked by atrocious pay-the-rent projects such as Scent Of A Woman, and this excruciating SFX novelty fluff arguably marks a career low. Teaming Pacino up with a CGI-altered Sports Illustrated model in order to subtly advance the astonishing proposition that Hollywood may be shallow, Simone is neither novel nor remotely engaging.
Its plot: Taransky (Pacino) is a washed-up madman director in desperate need of a hit and a leading lady who will faithfully do his every bidding, a tantrum-throwing Winona Ryder having walked off his set. In what may or may not be an homage to John Hughes’ Weird Science, he then sets about computer-designing the ultimate screen slapper, only to come up with a simpering blonde twit whose overnight success and reclusive behaviour provide the flimsy premise for a series of hopelessly ill-conceived comic observations on Hollywood superficiality.
Though not bellowing as maniacally as has sometimes been his wont, Pacino still brings all the subtlety of a flying brick to the proceedings, while useful co-stars such as Jay Mohr and Catherine Keener are under-deployed in favour of the lifeless moppet on whom Simone is based.
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Between her and the equally tedious CGI-chick from Final Fantasy, one can only imagine that Hollywood starlets everywhere are sleeping well at night.