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Golfin' Jiggy wit it

Director Robert Redford seems to be trying to recapture the awe and wonder of "The Natural" in his film "The Legend of Bagger Vance". This time around, the tortured athelete is golfing prodigy Randolph Junuh (Matt Damon) who returns from World War I with a duffel bag full of demons and goes directly into hiding. Why he goes into hiding in his hometown of all places is never explained. It's convenient though, since Junuh hails from Savannah, GA, home to a mythically ecentric population of characters, including his ex-girlfriend Adele (Charlize Theron, which doesn't make it any easier to understand how she's remained alone for the 10 years he's been away).

In a forgivable plot contrivance, Adele inherits her father's golf course and, in the midst of the Depression, must host a major tournament in order to save it. Adele enlists real-life golf legends Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen to play, but since they're Yankees, all of Savannah unites to find hometown boy Junuh and urge him to pick up his clubs again.

It turns out that picking up the clubs is the easy part, getting your swing back is something else. Enter Bagger Vance, one of those magical Hollywood characters that spouts philosphical nonsense at every utterance, to the point that they actually seem like they'd be really annoyting to be around. It's particularly noticeable here since golf is a notoriously quiet game, and Bagger never seems to shut up. Thankfully, Bagger is played by Will Smith, who manages to make lines like "everyone has one authentic swing, you just gotta let it find you" work. Even when it contradicts Vance's previous advice.

But Mr. Smith is forced to rely on his ample charisma for the role. Likewise, Ms. Theron doesn't do much to distinguish this southern belle from the role she played in "The Cider House Rules". It's possible that the script by Jeremy Levin, from the novel by Steven Pressfield, just doesn't give them much to do. Every moment in the film has a predictable outcome.

The film lies squarely on the shoulders of Mr. Damon, and he does his best to humanize this sketchy character. The problem is that the script doesn't define Junuh's demons, it simply categorizes them: (1) War, (2) Women. So Mr. Damon is forced to look vaguely upset for a majority of the film. The script never even resolves the subplot involving Adele saving the golf course.

Mr. Redford isn't helping much either. He films the movie with such deadly seriousness that it threatens to become parody. It's as though Kevin Costner's far superior "Tin Cup" were played straight. Even Mr. Costner knew that wouldn't work. Maybe Mr. Redford it trying to capture the lightning of "The Natural" in a bottle (I actually walked out of the film with the theme from "The Natural" in my head). But judging by the way he films the golf shots, he isn't as comfortable with this game as he was with baseball. Maybe it's time for a movie about a director that needs to get his swing back.