Our three protagonists |
“Same
Kind of Controversy”
A Review of Same Kind of Different as Me by Nick
Olszyk
MPAA Rating,
USCCB Rating, NR
Reel Rating, Two Reels
Same Kind of Different as Me is a nice
little story that is just as confusing as its title. Although its central
message of compassion and care for the poor is spot on, the plot is confusing,
the acting hammy, and in general plays like a rough cut of a
better-but-still-not-great Lifetime drama. Despite these misgivings, its themes
and cinematic archetypes have thrown it into a larger conversation and
generated controversy even before its release. I just wish there was a better
film to lead that discussion.
It
takes a least ten minutes to even figure out the movie’s story, but when the
picture becomes clear, the audience is introduced to Ron Hall (Greg Kinnear), a
workaholic art dealer whose wife Deborah (Renée Zellweger) recently discovered
he has been having an affair. In a moment of great strength, she offers him the
choice to stay or go, and he agrees to stay. Yet things cannot be the same.
Soon afterward, Deborah has a strange dream which inspires her to begin
volunteering at a local homeless shelter. Ron hates the idea, but at this point
is willing to do whatever he wife wants. Gradually, he comes to appreciate the
struggles of the poor except for Denver (Djimon Hounsou), a large, violent man
who carries a baseball bat and mean expression wherever he goes. “That’s the
man from my dream,” Deborah tells Ron. “We have to help him.” Ron thinks this
idea is crazy, but, again, what’s he going to say?
This
is a small, independent movie from the Christian production company PureFlix,
which has produced a few great films (God’s
Not Dead, War
Room) and plenty of mediocre ones (Faith
of our Fathers), but rarely gets much attention from the larger cinematic
world. Yet Same Kind of Different as Me has
been getting quite a great deal of negative publicity. Stuart Heritage of The Guardian called its trailer “the most
offensive thing I have ever seen.” Based on these criticisms, people fault it
for occupying two despised literary categories: the White Savior and Oscar
Bait. The White Savior is a story where a large group of minority or ethnically
non-Caucasian people are saved by a single white man. Director Michael Carney
dispels this notion early when Ron attempts to make small talk with Denver. “Is
it true that white folks go fishing and just throw them back?” Denver asks. Ron
laughs, “Yeah, it’s called ‘catch and release.’” “Is that what I am?” askes
Denver solemnly. Denver is willing to be Ron’s friend but not his project. The
second criticism is easy to understand but also easy to explain: it’s a real
story. Ron, Deborah, and Denver are all real people. Maybe it does fill the
checklist of things the Academy likes, but it is also faithful to the events. Same Kind of Different as Me would be an
anomaly if created by Lionsgate or Paramount, but its content is consistent
with the themes and patterns that PureFlix has always to tried to emulate.
There
is an old proverb that “before you shoot the arrow of truth, dip it in honey.”
This movie needs a lot more honey. Its execution is sloppy, filled with rookie
mistakes that demonstrates PureFlix still has plenty of growing pains ahead.
There is a scene towards the end of the film where two characters sit together
in silence for almost too full minutes. Perhaps Carney wants to show presence
matters more than words, but that’s ineffective in a visual medium. Similarly,
the beginning is disjointed, jumping between time periods with little reference
point and employing laughable parallel editing. Zellweger and Hounsou have a
tendency to overact while Kinnear seems barely aware he’s in the movie at all.
Questions are posed and left unanswered, and important threads never connect.
Worst of all, there’s a scene where Denver, remembering his past, recalls how
the KKK threw a rope around his neck to lynch him, but the audience never
discovers how he survived.
Despite
all this, Same Kind of Different as Me is
not unwatchable. It is touching in brief moments and, judging on its popularity
as a book, was a story worth hearing when all one usually hears is bad news.
The most frustrating things is that the post-modern world just can’t let
stories be. Ron didn’t choose Denver – God did. When Ron did “save” Denver, it
was because he was a friend, not because he was black.
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