Keeping it in the family: James Marsh's silly SHADOW DANCER is one very bizzare bomb

TrustMovies means "bomb" (see headline above) in the American vernacular, rather than the British (in which the term is slang for a huge hit). SHADOW DANCER is so alternately paint-by-numbers and ridiculous that you quickly begin asking that famous question: What were they thinking? This is especially unsettling, given the bona fides of the director (James Marsh, shown below, who has brought us two sterling documentaries and the best of the three films in the Red Riding trilogy) and his two leading actors (the always-worth-seeing Clive Owen and the up-and-coming and very talented Andrea Riseborough).

A British/Irish endeavor with a screenplay by Tom Bradby, based on his own novel, Shadow Dancer begins with a scene that could hardly be more explicit. Taking place in 1973, it shows us an Irish family of mom, dad, daughter and son, in which dad asks daughter to do something, and she fobs it off on her little brother. And then something happens. Cut to 1993, when that daughter, Collette, has grown into the lovely Ms Riseborough (below), whom we see taking a ride on the British underground and acting, oh, so mysterious in a scene that is anything but explicit.

So far, so good. Though we might quibble with how quickly the coppers are on to Collette, as this all takes place 20 years ago, well before surveillance became the easy sport it is today. But we let that pass because we do want to enjoy the movie at hand, and for awhile, we do -- as British intelligence officer Mac (played by Mr. Owen, below) questions our girl and gets her involved in spying for the Brits against the IRA (yes, this is one of those stories), with which her own family members and friends are deeply involved and presumably always have been (which may have been the reason the film's initial killing occurs).

What happens from here on in, however, ranges from questionable to obtuse to downright silly. In an environment where betrayal is rife, how can the IRA not suspect this young woman, particularly after she's been arrested and everyone knows it? The movie's ridiculous handling of this proves bad enough, but there's so much more. Like the fact that no one ever gets followed (except in the couple of times that they need to be in order to get caught). This kind of coincidence is barely grammar-school level.

Then there's the question of costuming. When you're working undercover and would prefer not to be seen, of course you'll wear this bright red raincoat, right? Well, hey -- it makes a great match for that phone booth! (Really, there are times when the movie -- technically, often abysmal -- seems more like a satire on the thriller genre rather than a part of it.

Beyond the question of believability, there's another of pacing. Shadow Dancer is often so slow and tiresome that you'll need to pinch yourself to stay awake. The old adage, follow the money, comes to the fore again, as Owen's Mac must call in some chits in order to learn the answers to his new-found questions. Those answers put the movie's title into play, in a manner that is so obvious and clichéd that you'll again wonder if you're watching a bad satire.

There are a couple of genuine surprises toward the film's close, but because all the characters we see are puddle-shallow and single-note, these jolts are likely to make you more angry than jazzed. A little inscrutability can be fun, but when a movie offers nothing but, you'll be ready to toss in the towel well before the surprises hit.

Ms Riseborough leads the pack in one-note inscrutability, followed by Gillian Anderson (above) as Mac's "supervisor." (I love this actress but I would call her performance maybe half-note; most likely, the best part of  it ended up on the cutting room floor -- or whatever passes for that in these digital days.) Owens' single note is loyalty, Collette's family are all dour, while the IRA is pictured as nasty and stupid -- which I guess counts for two notes! (That's Aiden Gillen, below, center.)

If this were a little independent, made by and starring unknowns, I probably would not be so hard on it. But given the talent involved, I finally do have to ask: What were they thinking?

Shadow Dancer, from Magnolia Pictures, opens this Friday, May 31, in New York (Landmark's Sunshine Cinema) and L.A. (Laemmle's Monica 4-Plex), In the weeks to come, it will open in another 20 cities around the country. Click here to see all scheduled playdates.

Monkeyshines & shocks in James Marsh's moving and thoughtful PROJECT NIM

At its outset, back in the early 1970s, an animal experiment involving the use of sign-language taught to a chimp appeared to go quite interes-tingly and well. Hey, it made the cover of New York magazine! When we get the whole story, however -- which lasts decades, incorporates so much more than we might have imagined and looks like one of the more horrendous examples of animal anthropo-morphization (not to mention another glowing sample of human hubris) -- we're brought up short. This is PROJECT NIM, the new documentary from James Marsh, shown below, which is as fascinating and ironic a movie as you might expect from the filmmaker who gave us the award-winning Man on Wire.

Over the course of the film and the life of Nim, its Chimpanzee star, so much happens and so event-filled is this tale that it bears comparison to the event-filled film of all-time, Paul Verhoeven's Holocaust hoot, Black Book. So intent is Nim's original surrogate mother, Stephanie Lafarge (an integral part of the experiment, she is shown flanking Nim, below, with her then-husband) in making our hero human that she even breast-feeds him and teaches him to smoke pot. (This was the 1970s, remember: anything went.) Later surrogates were both amused and abused by Nim, who, as he grows larger, also grows stronger and some-times hurts his keepers. But he also knows how to sign, "Sorry."

As the film moves forward, telling  Nim's tale, it also grows stranger, sadder and even frightening. And not simply for those people around Nim, who grow to love and care for him, but especially for Nim himself, who -- for all his inroads into language skills -- remains an animal adrift in a human world.

After recent films such as The Elephant in the Living Room (about the hazards of exotics pets) and One Lucky Elephant (that explored the human/animal bond at the expense of the animal), Project Nim is yet another cautionary documentary that reminds us of the -- surprise! -- animal nature of animals.

What sets the film apart are its story -- amazing, funny and important -- and its style. Mr Marsh is quite a movie-maker; he'll do anything, it seems, to tell his tale as well as it can be told. Combining interviews with all the major participants, complete with knockout archival footage, plus -- here's the kicker -- staged reenactments, the filmmaker weaves it all together so quickly and expertly that you have neither time nor inclination to separate the strands. (These are not the clunky re-enactments found on so many TV would-be documentaries. You barely realize that they are there.)

Is this "truth"? I would think so: recreated truth, at least. In telling Nim's story, Marsh finds one semi-villain, maybe two. Most notable is the Columbia University behavioral psychologist Herbert Terrace, who began the experiment (and then shut it down). Self -justifying and self-satisfied, Terrace seems to have felt little for anyone other than himself. Then there is the late and perhaps unduly noted "animal rights" activist Cleveland Amory, who "rescues" Nim, only to plop him into his most horrible environment yet, and who will not listen to a word of good advice from anyone else.

The rest of the characters surrounding our chimp range from loving and kind to foolish and kind -- with the exception of Bob Ingersoll, below, who comes off as perhaps Nim's one true, sensible human friend. The havoc some of these people wreak, while unintentional, is no less horrible, and the fine film made from it all is both a parable and a cautionary tale about man and beast.

Project Nim, from Roadside Attractions, opens this Friday, July 8, in New York at the Angelika Film Center and the Elinor Bunin Monroe Film Center; in Chicago it will play at the Music Box Theater and in Evanston, IL, at the Cinema Arts 6. The film will open in the Los Angeles area, and in Boston, Atlanta, San Diego, Phoenix and San Francisco on July 15, with a wider expansion expected to follow soon.