Though she lived less than four decades, Anna Nicole Smith lived, well, a lot. A trashy and ultimately tragic figure, she was in many ways the progenitor of all the (relatively) more stable “reality” demi-celebrities, like dating show combatants contestants and later the entire Kardashian brood, who have come to sadly dominate the modern day pop cultural landscape. Still, while her life is full of any number of dramatic ups and downs, that doesn’t mean it inherently translates, in staple-and-clip fashion, to a dramatically engaging movie. Especially if that movie happens to be a made-for-television Lifetime production.
Such is the axiom affirmed by Anna Nicole, starring Agnes Bruckner as the doomed stripper, Playboy model and single mother turned walking pharmacological warning story. Opening in small town Texas, the film — a very literal-minded curation of all of Smith’s greatest hits — charts its subject’s teenage pregnancy and uneasy relationship with her mother (Virginia Madsen), her hesitant turn to stripping, her relationship with an elderly billionaire (Martin Landau) and of course all the legal fallout and battles with said billionaire’s son (Cary Elwes) when the latter passes away.
There’s no drama or pathos here; opportunity arrives in yawning, E-Z fashion (“What’s your name? You’re every man’s fantasy. I want you to be the next Guess Jeans girl!” says one early benefactor), and when things fall apart, they do so quickly, so that the movie can dutifully move on to the next incident of note in Smith’s life. It’s based on an article from New York Magazine, but John Rice and Joe Bateer’s screenplay might as well have been adapted from Smith’s Wikipedia page, for all the depth it offers. Lines that are meant to connect as light comedy (“You make me feel 75 again,” says Landau’s character) fall flat, and there’s nothing greater than a thumbnail scratch of insight herein.
Bruckner, aided by some digital trickery that helps mimic and capture what is likely Smith’s best known asset — her enormous breasts — has a difficult job and does the best that she can, since she’s basically trying to breath life and human dimension into a decidedly uneducated character who then also falls victim to alcohol and prescription pill abuse. It’s a credit to her breathy turn that you’re able to at least glimpse a small handful of moments of genuine hurt and vulnerability underneath all the thick-lacquered surface drama, but it’s nowhere near enough to recommend giving this movie a spin.
If there’s otherwise anything notable about Anna Nicole, it’s the fact that it serves as evidence that even auteur-minded filmmakers have bills they need to pay, which presumably explains how and why Mary Harron (American Psycho, The Notorious Bettie Page) came to be involved with this lowest-common-denominator biopic. It’s all rather ghastly, honestly — vacuumed free of nuance and even a whiff of darkness, Anna Nicole plays like a clucking, cautionary audio-visual picture book for middle-America housewives to follow along with, pass judgment on and feel better about themselves.
Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Anna Nicole comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with French and English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio tracks, and optional English SDH, English and French subtitles. Apart from chapter stops, there are unfortunately no supplemental extras. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. D- (Movie) D (Disc)
Bruckner, aided by some digital trickery that helps mimic and capture what is likely Smith’s best known asset — her enormous breasts — has a difficult job and does the best that she can, since she’s basically trying to breath life and human dimension into a decidedly uneducated character who then also falls victim to alcohol and prescription pill abuse. It’s a credit to her breathy turn that you’re able to at least glimpse a small handful of moments of genuine hurt and vulnerability underneath all the thick-lacquered surface drama, but it’s nowhere near enough to recommend giving this movie a spin.
If there’s otherwise anything notable about Anna Nicole, it’s the fact that it serves as evidence that even auteur-minded filmmakers have bills they need to pay, which presumably explains how and why Mary Harron (American Psycho, The Notorious Bettie Page) came to be involved with this lowest-common-denominator biopic. It’s all rather ghastly, honestly — vacuumed free of nuance and even a whiff of darkness, Anna Nicole plays like a clucking, cautionary audio-visual picture book for middle-America housewives to follow along with, pass judgment on and feel better about themselves.
Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Anna Nicole comes to DVD presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with French and English language Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound audio tracks, and optional English SDH, English and French subtitles. Apart from chapter stops, there are unfortunately no supplemental extras. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here; to purchase via Half, click here. D- (Movie) D (Disc)