I think I may have figured out what happened to writer Gustin Nash, the first time scribbler of the film "Charle Bartlett". Instead of playing classical music or reading great works of literature to him while in the womb, Mother Nash must have slapped the headphones on her belly and barraged poor baby with every teen misfit '80's movie ever made. Nothing else would seem to explain the trite debacle that became "Charlie Bartlett". That, coupled with producers who were possibly hungrily looking for the next indie charmer like "Little Miss Sunshine" or "Juno", makes "Bartlett" seem like yet another pale copycat where "quirkiness" substitutes for imagination and fails to carry a film.
A cliche stuffed creampuff filled with the John Hughes filmography and a dash of "Pump Up The Volume", "Charlie Bartlett" follows the smart aleck adventures of the teen miscreant title character as his expulsions from various prep schools lands him in that Dante's Inferno known as public high school. As rich kid Charlie saunters in that first day with his preppy blazer and tie we head down that well travelled teen film highway, falling into every trope filled pothole along the way.
We know Charlie will become an immediate target for abuse, but with that twinkle in his eye we also know that sassy Chuck will somehow prevail using his entrepreneur wits and smirky sense of humor. He will win over the student body and wind up with the wise beyond her years hottest girl in school. Anyone who ever suffered a beatdown in the school cafeteria for being "different" knows this happens all the time.
After a few anarchistic pranks, such as getting his bully to pass out Ritalin at a school dance (one of the few semi-funny moments), Charlie, who is no stranger to psychiatry, hits on the money-making idea of becoming the psuedo school psychologist to the students. Evaluating their symptons, he goes to his own doctor exhibiting the same troubles and thus gets medication to dispense to his "patients". Along the way he attracts the attention of the suspicious principal and also his comely daughter. He becomes the most popular kid in school and heads for a showdown with the principal.
The basic premise of Charlie Bartlett could have been ripe ground for a pathos filled revisionist teen flick but instead collapses under its stale dialogue and groan inducing "emotional" moments. You can rarely mix "wink,wink" with "tear,tear" and come up with anything but "retch, retch".
The cast also proves to be a hit or miss affair. Young Anton Yelchin, promising enough in "Hearts in Atlantis", plays Charlie like Doogie Howser channeling Christian Slater. He quickly becomes cloying and viewers will be hard pressed not to want to get their hands around his throat by films end. Considering he has to carry the film, his annoying voice and mannerisms are deadly.
Hope Davis as Charlie's dippy mother and Robert Downey, Jr. as the principal with issues of his own turn in sincere performances much better than their paper thin characters deserve.
Editor turned director Jon Poll brings such a ham fist to the proceedings that he should probably not quit his day job just yet.
The most puzzling thing about Charlie Bartlett, however, is its R rating. Though there is a flash of nudity and a few "F" words thrown about it's overall a relatively squeaky clean affair. It seems the best audience for "Charle Bartlett" would be non-discriminating 14 year olds living under rocks. Adults will find its mixed message drug themes and lackadasical view of teen sex troubling, while older teens will surely find it unrealistic and far too "precious".
In 2008, problem plagued teens and cash strapped moviegoers were owed something more than this hackneyed retro pyscho-babble waste of celluloid.
RATING: 2 BANANAS
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