“Good people do good things, and bad people do bad things, but often the only time good people do bad things is when they are doing them in the name of God.” This pat statement by director George Ratliff is a swell indicator of the spirit behind his latest film, Salvation Boulevard. The strangely mirthless comedy, adapted from Larry Beinhart’s novel, centers on a Christian family man whose faith is challenged by the increasingly bad behavior of his Evangelical church’s star pastor. The film puts a lineup of A-listers through their paces, but their fleshless characters don’t give them much of an opportunity. The resulting film manages to be both antic and dull, a formulaic send up of religion where nothing hangs in the balance.
The film opens with a face-off between the smarmy Pastor Dan Day (Pierce Brosnan) and atheist professor Paul Blaylock (Ed Harris), who debate their oppositional views on faith in front of an audience of believers. Among them are Carl (Greg Kinnear) and his fervent wife Gwen (Jennifer Connelly). Her enthusiasm leads Pastor Dan to single Carl out for praise as a former sinner now redeemed. Carl’s particular sin was to follow The Grateful Dead (with the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle that implies), a flat joke that the film nonetheless returns to again and again. Also established for repetition is the queasy, meek expression on Carl’s face, one he’ll wear throughout the plot’s various contortions. These begin almost immediately, introducing Carl to security guard and Deadhead Honey Foster (Marisa Tomei), then sending him off for a nightcap with Pastor Dan and Dr. Blaylock. With Carl as a witness, Dan accidentally — and implausibly — shoots the professor in the head, an accident he tries to frame as an attempted suicide. Carl thus becomes unhappily embroiled in the cover-up, an escalating series of events that upend his complacent life.
I’m not especially religious myself, but I was taken aback by this film’s overt dismissal of faith. The director (whose previous films include the documentary Hell House) had an Evangelical upbringing, which may be the source of his sour, mocking tone. Pastor Dan as played by Brosnan is reduced to a squinty, wheezing hypocrite, who excuses all in the name of Christ (and real estate opportunity). His deeper motivations, and his British accent, remain unexplained. Marisa Tomei fares better, bringing a sunny warmth (and stronger comedic timing) to her role as the tokin’ hippie. But overall, the jokes are too broad and obvious to leave room for interpretation (underlined again by the relentless musical score). I was surprised to learn that the film’s Director of Photography was Tim Orr, who’s shot everything from George Washington and Raising Victor Vargas to
