http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/movies/2002513754_illuminated23.html
By John Hartl Special to The Seattle Times
Jonathan Safran Foer's 2002 novel, "Everything Is Illuminated," was praised as a work of genius, especially in its handling of language as twisted as the punk lingo in "A Clockwork Orange." The rowdy Ukrainian narrator, Alex, seems to be using a thesaurus in which all synonyms are subtly wrong; the result is inspired jabberwocky.
Writer-director Liev Schreiber's brave, ambitious film version is faithful to the book's tone, and it's sporadically effective in dramatizing the hero's quest. But, perhaps because it's no longer so much about the language, the movie comes across as slight and somewhat fussy. What distinguished the novel doesn't quite translate to the screen.
As in the book, a young Jewish-American vegetarian — also called Jonathan Safran Foer — sets out to find the truth about his grandfather, who was rescued from a Nazi massacre in 1942. He carries a yellowing photograph that may offer an essential clue to what happened. His chief helpers are Alex and Alex's cranky grandfather, who drive him to the town the Nazis wiped out.
Much is made of Jonathan's aversion to dogs, especially the grandfather's enthusiastic hound, nicknamed Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. Grandfather, who is unhappy to hear that the real Sammy Davis Jr. was Jewish, provides a less-than-gentle solution to Jonathan's canine phobia: "The bitch and the Jew will share the back seat."
There's also a needlessly protracted restaurant scene in which Jonathan's dislike of meat is mercilessly mocked. The solution, to serve him a skinned, boiled potato with no trimmings, is treated as the height of hilarity. When the potato falls on the floor, the incident turns out to be the icebreaker the three travelers need to continue amiably on their trip.
These incidents are in the book, but they're not isolated and emphasized as they are in the movie, which tends to make such small matters loom large. The result lacks balance, especially when Schreiber's script shifts to dealing with suicide and mass murder. Still, the movie starts to come together during its final scenes, mostly because the casting is spot-on.
Elijah Wood brings a deliberately opaque quality to his early interactions with the Ukrainians; when he thaws, Jonathan really seems to be making a life-altering change. Boris Leskin, a Russian-born veteran actor, makes a wonderfully grumpy grandfather. And Eugene Hutz, a gypsy-punk-rock singer making his film debut, turns Alex into the force of life he must be to bring Jonathan out of his shell.
John Hartl: johnhartl@yahoo.com.