Finding Amanda
By: Amy Nicholson
Grown-up Matthew Broderick is Ferris Bueller fermented in scotch. He’s the kid who knew everything and the adult who’s always wrong; and as he broadens with age, he looks younger and shorter, his wrinkles smooth out like an inflated balloon. Broderick hasn’t yet tipped over into Alec Baldwin character part genius—he still can’t act—but at least he’s picking better parts. Here, he’s a rich Hollywood writer going broke from horseracing. To save his marriage to Lorraine (Maura Tierney), he road trips alone to Las Vegas to rescue niece Amanda (Brittany Snow), who rumor has it is a stripper, drug addict, and hooker. The familiar premise here has sharp fangs, unsparing wit, and a knockout performance by Snow whose appearance jolts the movie in life. We’re expecting a broken doll; writer-director Peter Tolan right-hooks us by arguing that for Amanda, prostitution is just a goofy hobby that affords her two cars, a perfect condo, and a kept man (a spoiled Peter Facinelli). Even if we don’t agree with her, we eventually believe she’s telling the truth; her happiness is forced, but its roots run deep. Refusing to play it false or preachy, Tolan eschews hugs for running jokes about how no one in Sin City believes that the pair are actually related. Offers one casino boss (Patrick Fischler), “I can get you a better niece—how about a black niece?” Their shared relief at finding a permissive family member is like a ray of light. But when they compete over who’s worse—the better to excuse their own failings—things get dark. (Amy Nicholson)
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