A Sony Pictures Entertainment release of a Columbia Pictures presentation of a Green Moon production in association with Meir Teper; Produced by Meir Teper, Linda Goldstein Knowlton, Debra Hill and Diane Sillan Isaacs; Executive Produced by James R. Dyer; Wrriten by Mark Childress from his book; Directed by Antonio Banderas Opens October 22, 1999
It seems that, sooner or later, actors inevitably turn their eye to directing. Perhaps it's the belief that they can "do it better" or maybe it's an impatience born of waiting-waiting-waiting between takes. In any case, actors are in an ideal position to learn the craft, if they watch and listen. Apparently, Antonio Banderas has been doing just that because his directorial debut Crazy in Alabama is a gem of a movie.
Adapted by Mark Childress from his own novel, Crazy in Alabama is an intimate portrait of the quest for freedom on both a personal and a collective level. Having grown up in Spain during the Franco regime, Banderas claims that he chose this film as his directorial debut because the themes hit close to home. Clearly, the story moved him -- as it moves us -- because, in his hands, this colorful and tragic world comes alive, striking a remarkable balance between off-beat humor and intense pathos.
After an energetic and inspired opening title sequence, Aunt Lucille (Melanie Griffith) quickly deposits her seven kids with her mom, claiming that she's off to Hollywood for her shot at fame. As capricious Aunt Lucille, Melanie Griffith exudes a ditsy charm and quiet strength, recalling her early performances in films like Something Wild and Working Girl. Her bold characterization is balanced out by Lucas Black's sweet, intense portrayal of Lucille's nephew Peejoe. In voice-over, Peejoe quickly clues us in to the fact that Lucille is a special lady. Of course, we kind of gather this since she's lugging around the head of her recently dead husband Chester in a Tupperware container. When Lucille starts hearing Chester talking to her, it just seals the deal. In Southern lingo, Lucille is what you might call "touched."
With Lucille off to search for her first taste of freedom in thirteen years of married hell, Peejoe experiences his own coming of age as his small town erupts in racial unrest. Beautifully realized in Childress' writing, both Lucille and Peejoe possess a sort of pure innocence, and it's this wide-eyed view of the world that links their two disparate stories. While Lucille road trips to LaLa Land -- hoodwinking a Texas trooper and whooping it up in Vegas -- Peejoe confronts local Sheriff Doggett (Meat Loaf Aday), whose bilious, all-consuming prejudice eventually causes the death of a young black activist.
Inspired by Lucille's personal courage, Peejoe wants to make the Sheriff pay for his deeds, not understanding when his kindly Uncle Dove (David Morse) says that justice isn't always easy to come by. While Lucille finds work in Hollywood and struggles to break Chester's hold on her, Peejoe makes a stand alongside the local blacks, marching in the activist's funeral procession and championing their cause. Both story lines coincide when Lucille is arrested for Chester's murder and brought back home to Alabama. At her trial (watch for an inspired cameo by Rod Steiger as the Judge), Peejoe uses the opportunity to condemn Doggett in public.
In less delicate hands, Crazy In Alabama could have been quite a disaster. It's no small feat to balance Lucille's screwball world with Peejoe's more dire experience. Childress has done a fine job of bringing his book to life, imbuing it with a warmth that embraces you and a quirkiness that keeps you guessing. There are a few moments when the message gets a bit heavy-handed, such as when Peejoe claims that "freedom goes on forever", but Banderas directs his actors with such steady grace that you tend to overlook the grandstanding.
Perhaps most impressive, however, is Banderas' attention to technical details. Not only does he take some inventive stylistic gambles -- there's a talking lizard in one scene -- but he gives each story line its own unique sound and look. As shot by Julio Macat, Lucille's world is more vivid, almost surreal, while Peejoe's existence is shown in all its harsh reality. Banderas' direction complements the camera work, refreshingly irreverent when necessary and almost elegiac when the more serious elements come to the fore.
Crazy In Alabama walks that fine line between message movie and entertainment. It's to Banderas' credit that both elements work together, creating a film that is at once uplifting and whimsical. This is a movie about finding one's place in the world and, through the eyes of Peejoe and Lucille, we come to realize that there are always risks in life, and that for some things, it's worth risking everything.