I’m Still Here – Review

Reviews, Theatrical Reviews

Two lesser talented brothers try to fool everyone and fail miserably

Joaquin Phoenix and Casey Affleck have a lot in common outside of the fact that Affleck married Phoenix’s sister some years ago. They’re both lesser talented than older siblings, as well, and when Joaquin opted to “quit” acting in 2008 and become a rapper and Affleck decided to film a “documentary” on it there was a sense that this was too weird to be faked. Phoenix, nominated for two Oscars, had overcome his dead brother’s shadow to establish himself as a talented actor in his own way. He was no longer River Phoenix’s little brother; he was the definitive Johnny Cash in Walk the Line and made for an interesting foil to Russell Crowe in Gladiator. So his decision was so weird and off-beat that it couldn’t be just a lame version to emulate Andy Kaufman, right?

Unfortunately the last two years of Phoenix’s alleged fall from grace have been just that: a lame attempt by a talented actor to recreate a signature of Kaufman’s legacy that borders on a Borat level parody but without the intentional comedy. The film is remarkably funny, oddly enough, but it’s not because we’re laughing with the cast and crew. We’re laughing at them because this is so remarkably pathetic an attempt at “fooling” everyone is so remarkably transparent and ineffective that it becomes more of a test of endurance than a sham look at a man doing his best to singlehandedly destroy his entire career.

This fake documentary, which is the only way to describe the film, follows Phoenix from the moment he announced his retirement from acting through the next year as he turns his attention to becoming the next great hip hop star. As he goes through the process of trying to get his record released while going through the fallout of giving up his acting career, Phoenix’s life also seemingly goes into a tailspin as he indulges in cocaine, prostitutes and copious amounts of alcohol while his assistant Antony, friend/sycophant Larry and the usual gaggle of assistants and publicists try to steer his career in this new “direction.” He even goes so far as to get Sean “Puff Daddy” Combs to listen to both his pitch for a shot at getting him to produce the album from the newly christened “JP,” ending in disaster both times as Combs treats him in one imagines is the same way he’d treat anyone who could get in front of him trying to become a recording artist for Bad Boy Records.

Combs’s treatment of Phoenix, the only person not to suck up and kiss his behind, is startling if only because it exposes just how bad he truly is at rapping. Phoenix, who demands to be treated as a recording artist and not an actor, is rather startled that Combs would browbeat him about trying to step into his realm without considering the ramifications of how the music industry works. It’s telling in that Combs is treating him like a businessman, not a celebrity sycophant, and it’s the film’s only really truthful feeling moment. Combs is noticeably irritated, as he ought to, that his time is being wasted by someone without talent and just enough celebrity to warrant meeting him but not enough talent to actually be meeting him and discussing a potential future. You can gain a lot of respect for Combs by how he treats Phoenix, which is respectful but realistic.

The film itself is nothing near it. It’s a gruesome car wreck as Phoenix mumbles his way through, expecting instant success and gratification without the talent or work ethic. If this wasn’t an attempt at working the masses ala Kaufman there would be something telling about how the nature of celebrity works out for those whom it has come to. There’s just one problem with all of this: Joaquin is utterly replaceable as an actor in both talent and fame. You can’t care about Phoenix’s “tragic downfall” because he wasn’t that high up to begin with. If someone like George Clooney or Brad Pitt would try and accomplish this it would mean something more than an actor like the younger Phoenix brother. He plays the tortured artist well but there isn’t much room to care that he’s retiring from acting to become a hip-hop star; he’s an eclectic actor who can occasionally stir greatness, nothing more, and as such there’s no room for an emotional connection. He’s good, not great, in the same way that we’d feel if a mediocre pro athlete who could occasionally be great switched sports as a hoax. After a while you shrug your shoulders and move on.

It’s petty and self-indulgent at best, a cold, calculated attempt at raising his profile at worst, and nothing about the background of this film is going to raise his status beyond that of “good indie actor who can hold himself in a studio picture”. There is no legendary status about this film, and how it will portray him, because there’s nothing genuine about it. If the film hadn’t been exposed by Affleck as a hoax it’d be sad (for a moment) to see someone with talent flush it away. As it is, I’m Still Here is noxiously bad performance art.


Director: Casey Affleck
Notable Cast: Casey Affleck, Joaquin Phoenix
Writer(s): Casy Affleck and Joaquin Phoenix