Nocturnal Animals (*1/2)

I wanted to love "Nocturnal Animals," Tom Ford's long-awaited return to the director's chair following his artistic achievement with 2009's "A Single Man." The beauty is here, and Animals is certainly a gorgeous film to watch. The look is right, and the score is lush. It's a shame that for all the individual accomplishments such efforts add up to become such a thorough snoozefest.

I would describe the plot, introduce the characters, etc., although for the most part all I can gather is that the movie is about Amy Adams reading a book with great intensity. The book itself, of course titled "Nocturnal Animals," is a murder mystery written by her estranged ex-husband (Jake Gyllenhaal). Written as a manuscript on the verge of publication, Adams (her character is named Susan) reads the book in the bathtub, on the couch, in front of a fire, in her bed, etc. The emotions it draws out of her cause many reactions of shock, of horror, as she continually has to pause mid-sentence to let out a sigh and remove her glasses. This continues for the majority of the film. What a chore it is to be a wealthy woman reading a book. When she isn't reading, she is a failing artist whose most recent gallery featured life-like statues of obese women in the nude. Speaking of which, the opening credits to this film are quite an eyeful.

The novel itself follows a man (again portrayed by Gyllenhaal) who gets pulled over on a lonely Texas highway by a group of men who are anything but friendly. In a scene of building tension, they are kidnapped and unspeakable circumstances befall the man, who gets involved with the law in attempts to track down the criminals. He works with a sheriff, played so aptly by Michael Shannon, who works outside of the law to save the day in the end. If it weren't such a travesty of a movie I would bet money that Shannon had a likely chance of receiving a Supporting Actor nomination at the upcoming Oscars. He's that good.

At the conclusion of the novel, after Adams has run out of breath to sigh and warm baths to take, she contacts her ex in hopes of meeting him to discuss the book. So leads to an ending that is just as contrived as the rest of the film. It's a level of pretentiousness that I could sense with "A Single Man" and still admired for it's boldness. Here, in a story that precariously balances 2 or 3 stories simultaneously, it's a traffic jam of tone and theme. I can understand how there are interpretations to be made about the book, it's metaphors in regards to murder and abortion (there's a lot of plot I have failed to cover), revenge and healing. I don't blame Tom Ford entirely for the film being so convoluted, however when you see that he wrote, produced, and directed the picture, we have to draw the line somewhere, don't we?