A feel good story that doesn't make you feel all that good

Al Pacino in a scene from "Danny Collins."

“Danny Collins” is a film at war with itself. On one side is a heartwarming comeback story about a hollow old man weighed down by drug use and avarice who is searching for one last touch of meaning in his life. On the opposing side is a tale about a broken man who attempts to validate his existence but can't overcome the lesser angels of his nature.

Writer/director Dan Fogelman tries to negotiate a metaphoric truce between the warring sides, and the accord results in a moderately funny film that lacks the bite to pull off the latter arc or a likable central performance to create the warm and fuzzies needed for the former.

“Danny Collins” opens in a cutesy enough fashion via a disclaimer that the film is “kind of based on a true story, a little bit.” It's worth a light-chuckle, and it fits the sense of humor found in the rest of the film, but the cute is snipped off shortly thereafter from a series of curses from a reporter (Nick Offerman) interviewing a shy young musician named Danny Collins. The scene, set in the 1970s, is an expositional moment meant to indicate the young singer's fear of fame and love for the work of John Lennon.

Bounce 40-plus years into the future and the titular Collins has morphed into a pudgy, coked-out, drunken showbiz hack played by Al Pacino. His lifestyle is wealthy but shallow, at least until his manager and only friend (Christopher Plummer) presents Pacino a letter written to the singer by Lennon himself after the interview. Lennon's message spurs an epiphany in the aging singer, one that prompts him to move to a hotel in New Jersey to connect with his long lost and (justifiably) resentful son (Bobby Cannavale), his daughter in law (Jennifer Garner) and hyperactive granddaughter (Giselle Eisenberg). Pacino also spends a bit of time macking on the hotel manager (Annette Bening) and writing his first new song in decades, the one that would give him artistic merit.

I'll start with the caveat that I liked “Danny Collins” well enough. It's nice to see Garner let loose a little bit, and I'm happy to see Cannavale and Offerman do their thing. And while the film isn't uproariously funny, Fogelman's script reveals a knack for solid comedic timing, making the overall viewing experience amiable and harmless enough. The film won't cause much consternation for the audience if they like movies that recycle plot points from “To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.”

I feel like I'm the only person who remembers this film.

That's “Danny Collins'” biggest problem though, as a film with Pacino in the lead doesn't work if it decides to go safe. Personally, I like the darker road “Danny Collins” could have taken, the one Fogelman hints at repeatedly with lines like this via Cannavale, “Who am I to ruin your happy ending?” The line, delivered with perfect bite by the actor, is targeted at those staid redemption stories in which a person waltzes back into someone's life as if nothing happened and tries to persuade the character and audience the interloper is the good guy. (“That's My Boy” tried that same gambit, and it still infuriates me.)

Adam Sandler, pictured impersonating a clown bop bag.

Fogelman veers ever so close to the interesting path, but he just can't force himself to commit to the darker and more honest story. He flees instead toward the light, to the traditional redemption story that has a (frustratingly simple and condescendingly written) happy ending designed to make the audience feel a little gushy inside.

I may prefer the sadder story, but the safer more saccharine version can work fine if the central figure is likable enough to earn redemption. Unfortunately, sweet has never been Pacino's forte. Rather, the man's most memorable roles have him as an outsider, isolated by his intellect, iciness or disdain for humanity, and he rarely if ever reintegrates back into a larger collective. Pacino, in other words, is not a warm, avuncular screen presence, which makes him the wrong person to carry a film like “Danny Collins.” Not that the bellowing ham receives any favors from Fogelman’s script; one of the tactics Pacino employs to get into his son's good graces is to use his granddaughter's condition, which is just all sorts of skeevy and discomfiting.

There are a series of additional problems with the script, along with the choice to have Pacino sing (I haven’t the slightest idea how one becomes a pop star with that voice), but they are significantly minor in comparison. If there's anything worth learning from “Danny Collins,” it's that filmmakers should take the risky path every now and then; otherwise, you get a blasé film that satisfies viewers only until they exit the theater.

Review: Two and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 106 minutes

Genre: Drama

Ask Away

Target audience: People searching for a good Al Pacino performance, maybe? 

At least better than this.

Take the whole family?: There's enough illicit activity and curse words in this to justify the film’s solid “R” rating.

Theater or Netflix?: Stay home and save your money.

What does Lennon do for you? Not all that much. Then again, I have an issue with stories that use the magical words of a pop-culture figure to launch a quest of self discovery. It's lazy storytelling, and it launches the being into a league far higher than he or she deserves. John Lennon was great, but he wasn't a bloody messiah.

Watch this instead: If “Danny Collins” was a better film, it would be “Young Adult,” a film that gets nowhere near the respect it deserves.