Less informative, but about as entertaining and dramatically structured as a tourist-based documentary, the hideously named "Hideous Kinky" is more interested in serving as a promotional stock footage piece for the Moroccan tourist board than as a compelling motion picture. All looks and nearly void of any substance, this film is a testament to the old saying of not judging a book by its cover.
Of course, beyond the "beauty" of the Moroccan deserts, villages, and street life, the film has another gorgeous asset -- Kate Winslet. Appearing in her first dramatic role since that little movie -- I can't recall its name -- about that boat that sank, Winslet has smartly avoided rushing into another huge, high profile film and subsequently facing burnout or backlash should it have been a bomb. Alas, she chose this film that may just cause her to wish that it, her agent, and her better judgement had gone down with that previous ship.
Unfortunately named for a word game the two young sisters briefly, but inexplicably play that apparently involves combining disparate adjectives, the film's most interesting aspect is its title. Of course, those expecting something resembling a John "Pink Flamingos" Waters flick will surely be disappointed, as will anyone who favors movies with anything resembling a plot or character development.
Based on Esther Freud's novel which itself was crafted from the author's recollections of a similar childhood experience to what the two young daughters encounter here, the film meanders about without ever getting anywhere. That's not to say that the characters are "homebodies" -- after all, they do travel quite a bit -- but more pertains to the fact that nothing collectively or cohesively occurs regarding the plot. As such, the film -- like many before it -- simply can't translate what presumably -- and hopefully -- made the source material more intriguing and/or memorable.
Although Winslet's hippie-like character is obviously the protagonist, it's interesting that the film's strongest characters are those of her daughters and that the film appears to be told somewhat from their perspective. Yet as any parent can tell you, stories told by children -- despite their best intentions -- are often disjointed, boring or often don't make any sense.
Of course that explanation doesn't make this film's lackluster storytelling approach a pardonable offense. The result -- while possibly palatable to "artsy" types who might try to find some hippie existentialism out of this jumbled mess -- is that the film feels more like a series of episodic moments loosely tied together through its characters than anything resembling a coherent feature.
Those "episodes" -- involving the likes of our characters interacting with a rich European, a fellow hitchhiker and a stern missionary -- simply stop just as abruptly as they begin. Other moments, including Lucy contracting a deadly disease and a nightmare involving a disembodied but vengeful and solid black hand are never explained or are brushed aside as if they're no big deal.
Unfortunately, the problems don't stop there. Just when the film should be moving on with any glimmer of some sort of development in either its plot, characters, or both, director Gillies MacKinnon, working from brother Billy's adaption of Freud's novel, resorts to ever more shots of Moroccan street performers, villages, or deserts.
While such shots are good for establishing a film's locale, period and/or atmosphere, a little of that goes a long way. A good rule of thumb is that unless something substantial is going to come from continued, but essentially pointless images of miscellaneous characters or settings, don't keep showing them or else you'll risk confusing, irritating or boring your audience.
Fortunately -- and partially serving as the film's redeeming quality -- the performances are rather good. Winslet -- who's twice been nominated for an Oscar -- is simply radiant in her role. Unfortunately, and although she's mostly believable playing a subdued hippie, there's no character development with which she can work.
Her little supporting performers, Bella Riza and Carrie Mullan, who both make their feature film debut with this picture, are also quite exceptional in their performances, but end up suffering the same fate as Winslet in that they've nowhere to go with their characters. Saïd Taghmaoui gets the most interesting role with the greatest potential as the Moroccan street performer/surrogate father, but likewise is left stranded by a stalled plot that leaves him high and dry when not removing him altogether from the proceedings.
Despite the infusion of some classic 1960's/70's rock songs such as Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit," the film simply lurches about in haphazard circles. Without any plot or character development, the film's few redeeming qualities are that cinematographer John de Borman's camera work is pleasant to watch, that it has good but constrained performances, and should allow the Moroccan tourist board to find plenty of clips for their commercials.
As such, and despite the star presence of Winslet, this film is doomed to disappear from theaters faster than the real subject of Kate's last film actually did in the North Atlantic. The stuff of which sleeping pill manufacturers wish they could bottle and sell, "Hideous Kinky" clearly doesn't live up to either of its title's adjectives. While the picture and Winslet are gorgeous to behold, it might just be the most boring film you'll see all year and thus we give it just a 2.5 out of 10.
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