"Flat and directionless stories of angst are nothing to praise."

The thing about genius, the thing that makes films like Ray, Walk the Line, and Searching for Bobby Fisher engrossing, is that "flash" of brilliance. When you see someone discover and hone their talent, when you realize they were put on the Earth to do the very thing you're watching, that's what makes biopics work -- getting an insight into a dazzling mind. But Little Ashes isn't about that. It's not even about Salvador Dali, really. Mostly it's about a love triangle, and all the drama and angst that comes with that tired meme. It's about a poet and politics, with fellas making out interspersed to provide a diversion. Only it's not a compelling story. They had the camera, the lighting, the actors, and a director ... but they left the story somewhere else. Probably back at the dorm.

Robert Pattinson is Salvador Dali, and he does as well as can be expected with this wounded script. Javier Beltran is Federico Garcia Lorca, the actual subject of this film, despite how they're trying to market it. Lorca was a famous Spanish poet and director who was also politically active. Evidently Dali was a lover of his who left a scar; the film tries and fails to provide proper context to the equation. They meet at some sort of school (and truly, the details are handled about like that) where Dali is initially an outcast until Lorca takes him under his wing. There are a few examples of Dali's work, and a few more examples of Lorca's poetry, but really, to give the script even that much credit is kind. The movie progresses from scene to scene like a drunken blind man on the surface of the moon. It's difficult to figure out who is who, why one person is angry at the other, or anyone's motivations for anything. Dali is troubled and Lorca likes the idea of revolution. That's about as defined as this project ever gets. Tragedy.

Somewhere out there is a good movie about Salvador Dali, and he deserves one. But this film was clearly released to capitalize on Pattinson-mania, which is pretty uncool given the movie isn't any good. Just because folks are Pattinson fans doesn't mean they deserve to be taken advantage of. Sheesh. C'mon fellas, let's all act like we've been here before.

So no, I can't recommend this to fans of film. It's a highly boring and incoherent vision of what life might have been like in 1930's Spain. I'm quite sure Dali was talented, and I'm guessing this Garcia Lorca fellow deserves our praise too, but I'm even more sure that both are owed more than this meandering love Kabuki. None of the genius of the men is on display; instead that's stripped away, and we're left with the all-too-common soap opera elements that weigh down the pulpiest of our culture. Flat and directionless stories of angst are nothing to praise, and in fact we must damn them. Only then will we get to see the work of geniuses.

Grade: D

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