The Soloist Reviews
A handsomely made but tonally uncertain film; it's unsure whether to be an old-fashioned inspirational heartwarmer, or a paranoid prose-poem about ruined lives on the city's dangerous margins.
While the narrative occasionally falters, The Soloist wisely avoids the pitfalls of the inspirational biopic by not tidily sewing things up. Instead, it presents a moving tribute to friendship and the power of music.
A workaholic roused to life by his contact with an extraordinary person. Music healing all ills. The rehabilitation of an impaired genius. The only reason any of this is barely watchable is because of the stars.
Mr. Wright and his colleagues have made a movie with a spaciousness of its own, a brave willingness to explore such mysteries of the mind and heart as the torture that madness can inflict, and the rapture that music can confer. Bravo to all concerned.
While the film is unable to resolve its central subject, its background portrayal of the ongoing dissolution of the newspaper industry -- captured in a few fleeting images of layoffs and downsizing -- is vividly realized.
The Soloist has all the elements of an uplifting drama, except for the uplift. The story is compelling, the actors are in place, but I was never sure what the filmmakers wanted me to feel about it.
Backed by his newfound A-list stardom, Downey brings to the project a wry swagger -- crucial in an essentially reactive role. I wish, though, that "The Soloist" hadn't spent so much time dealing with Lopez's crises of conscience and career, even as they r
The tone of The Soloist is wildly uneven. Though unsparing and unsentimental when framing the principals, Wright is hyperbolic when depicting the agitation of the mentally ill and the soothing rapture of music.