Edmond

I'm a huge fan of David Mamet and William H. Macey. Together--in small films like State And Main, or more ambitious flicks like Spartan--the chemistry is usually magical.

Usually.

Their chemistry in Edmond? Not so magical.

Macey is Edmond Burke, a middle-aged man who one day, rather suddenly, realizes he has endured enough of his average, hum-drum existence. His epiphany is one we've all had: He waltzes in to work one day, and is informed that his boss has rescheduled their meeting from that morning to later in the afternoon-- with no forethought given to whether or not Burke's schedule will accommodate the change.

The change doesn't matter to the boss, and Burke realizes that neither does he.

In a meltdown similar to Falling Down, Burke begins to realize he's bored with it all. His wife, his job, everything. So, he simply walks out, and hits the gritty New York City nightlife looking for action that will make him feel.

Something. Anything.

After losing out on some action with a couple ladies of the evening, Burke strikes up relationships with some ne'er-do-wells that change his perspective--and his life--forever. His one night on the town goes horribly wrong. For Burke, it's a classic case of "be careful what you wish for."

Edmond is based on a 20 year old play written by Mamet. And the film feels like a play. The scenes are simple, the dialogue complicated and quick. Unlike Glengarry Glen Ross--another Mamet play turned into a film--Edmond never reaches it's potential. It's dark and dismal, and it's supposed to be. And Macy's acting is superb. But, I couldn't help feeling it underachieved. It's too predictable, and too stiff.

And that's too bad. I wanted so much to like this film.