200 bad lines

>> Indie hype is really indie hell with 200 Cigarettes

by MATTHEW HAYS

Imagine the surprise that awaited me as I attended a screening of 200 Cigarettes, the much-anticipated indie ensemble film. The feature boasts seemingly endless '80s acts on its soundtrack (the film is set in 1981), and first-time feature film director Risa Bramon Garcia managed to land a pretty outstanding cast: Ben Affleck, Christina Ricci, Paul Rudd, Martha Plimpton, Courtney Love and Janeane Garofalo--and a cameo by Elvis Costello--among others.

But 200 Cigarettes is pretty much an out-and-outright disaster. From the get-go, nothing seems right: there's the conspicuous set-up, in which a bunch of disparate souls discuss their need for love on New Year's Eve, all the while preparing for a party. The scenarios are too obvious: just might these various characters' paths actually cross, leading to bizarre matchmakings and sexual hijinx? The dots are connected within the first 15 minutes of the film.

The plots are simplistic and devoid of any wit or surprise: Love accompanies Rudd to a neighbourhood pub, where Rudd tries desperately to drink away the memory of his girlfriend (Garofalo), who dumped him last night. Kate Hudson (Goldie Hawn's daughter, incidentally) goes out on a date with Jay Mohr, a womanizer who's not so interested in this girl who's still pining after him. Plimpton plays the ultraneurotic hostess, preparing for the oncoming onslaught of all the guests.

I've got to hand it to the filmmakers, though, they've managed a first: in 200 Cigarettes, Ricci actually manages a truly rotten performance. Attempting humour through the simple ploy of donning a Brooklyn accent, Ricci depicts a hard-up gal who, with her buddy, end up searching the streets for a good old time in Manhattan. They end up in a punk club and--horrors!--Ricci begins necking with someone with green hair and a dog collar. Yes, this is supposed to pass for comedy.

But Ricci's mind-numblingly, jaw-droppingly awful performance can't quite top the irritation evoked by Hudson, displaying none of the slapstick comic talent that made her mother famous. As a nervous date who's constantly knocking over tables, bumping into things and slipping into dog shit, Hudson's also supposed to be likable and charming, but just comes across as one gigantic social liability.

Still, best to give the entire cast a break for appearing in this culture crime. Lightning struck this bit of celluloid--many, many times, in fact. 200 Cigarettes stands as undeniable evidence that all that's indie is not gold.

200 Cigarettes opens Friday, February 26