The Paperboy movie review & film summary (2012)

In this hot and humid South, there is a swamp with an inbred family, a dead sheriff, a curious newspaper reporter, and a slutty blond slattern. The younger man adores lots of alligators, and right there in the Death Row, the wrong man is lurking. If we are unable to appreciate great art, especially in movies, as Pauline Kael once told us, then things may not go as well as we hope.

The taste of this film has been good, which would have been considered in bad taste. I have news for them. Some viewers complained and hooted at this movie, saying that a movie with such a bad taste should not have been shown in the French temple of art. When the movie played at Cannes last May, the characters in “The Paperboy” spent a lot of time wading in the swamp, up to their waists in water.

A black man with a British accent, Acheman Yardley, recruits his brother’s kid, Jack (played by Zac Efron), as his assistant and together they investigate a suspect with a vicious streak, whom they believe should be executed by the general principle of the sheriff’s office. They suspect that the murderer of the man wrongly convicted for the murder on Death Row in Fla., Is actually a human snake named Van Hillary, who has recently been visiting his hometown in Miami. Matthew McConaughey stars as Ward Jansen, a reporter for the Miami Times, in the movie “The Paperboy,” set in 1969.

Charlotte (Nicole Kidman), a trashy blonde who seems to have a fashion-forward appearance after a close study of Trashy Lingerie Catalog, meets up with Wetter Van Hillary, but they have never been engaged or married. She could have been a model for the dames on the paperback covers of Mickey Spillane’s steamers in the 1950s.

I know a lot of women who fall in love with men on Death Row. In the case of Charlotte, she is a study of hopeless romanticism, with her idealistic and masochistic romance defying description in the scene where she first meets Jack and Ward. Their minds reside in a fevered state, achieving simultaneous orgasms while 10 feet apart. So much does their romance reside in their fevered minds that it defies description, but it is a romance filled with love and hopelessness for Hillary.

Jack dives into the ocean, being attacked by jellyfish. Underneath her cool bikini, Charlotte playfully peeks out, revealing different parts of her body. She seductively reclines on the beach next to him, showcasing her equally impressive and toned physique, which seems to lack a brain. Jack, a former college swimmer and current newspaper delivery boy for Scott Glenn’s local newspaper, is relentlessly flirted with by Charlotte. She mercilessly teases him, as if she were a champion swimmer who has been kicked out of college. This scene is reminiscent of Nicole Kidman’s fearless performance.

Will you not discover “The Paperboy”, whether it works or not? You would think it would be widely known, if it’s true, that it’s the kind of life-saving information. Some local girls scream as he quickly reverses the allergic reaction that can be caused by urinating on him, and he crawls ashore, semi-conscious.

I wouldn’t get a peep out of me if you say that I was a black maid in Florida in 1969, but it seems she is reluctant to know exactly what happened. The story begins by being told in a flashback by Anita Chester, the maid and cook of the Jansen family, who has seen some hard times since the events took place.

“The film “Paperboy,” directed by Lee Daniels and based on a novel by Pete Dexter (“Trout Paris”), seems to draw a peculiar inspiration from the murks of Florida. It follows in the tradition of Elmore Leonard, with John MacDonald and Carl Hiaasen co-writing the screenplay. Since Daniels made “Precious,” his first film, he shows the same instinct for overwrought melodrama in “Paperboy”.”

I sometimes admire films like “The Paperboy,” but I know exactly the kinds of people who booed this film at Cannes. They filmed minimalist dirges in obscurity and gloom, which go against all the necessary measures to be prepared and wade up in your waist.

Roger Ebert