MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

Directed by Luis

Mandoki

Starring Kevin

Costner, Paul

Newman, Robin

Wright Penn

In trying to get the most bang for their buck, producers toss in every ingredient in they can think of to make the most profit: the biggest, most expensive actors, the most complicated special effects and the most exotic locales. Time and time again, the one element they always gloss over is a credible story. They figure if they truss it up enough, the audience will be fooled by all the razzle dazzle. Most of the time it doesn't work.

But, with each big boring blockbuster that breaks box office records, the little Life is Beautiful- type gems are forgotten under a suffocating pile of green. No one represents the insipid big studio mentality more than Kevin Costner. After blockbuster duds like Waterworld and The Postman, he's still nostalgic for another successful big-budget hit like Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. But the more unlikely the scenarios Costner cooks up, the less likely the audience eats it up. This time around though, he's wised up. In his field of dreams, that piece de resistance would be his new flick, Message in a Bottle. Instead of saving the world, he's traded in his liquids and letters for plain old boats in North Carolina. At first glance, it seems like a surefire hit, given that it's based on a best-selling novel by Nicholas Sparks, but if the book is anything like the film, then how it managed to sell one copy is truly mind-boggling.

The biggest problem is Costner himself. In his current middle-aged, paunch-ridden, crooked-toothed, balding status, he just doesn't cut quite the same dashing, leading man figure he once did. Perhaps he has delusions of Jimmy Stewart-esque everyman grandeur. Costner certainly had a certain soccer dad appeal in The Untouchables, but a hunk? Hardly. Whereas Stewart had an endearing awshucks demeanor, Costner is about as charming as a tree. Gone are the days where he can plausibly seduce Susan Sarandon on a table or Madeline Stowe with a lemon. Now, he's just like the chubby slob he portrayed in his golf loser flick, Tin Cup. There is simply no ounce of heroism left in his body.

One would think that looking like the average Joe would actually be good in a film like Message in a Bottle where Costner is a man grief-ridden by the death of his beloved wife. Add to the physical ravages of this trauma a personality more wooden than Al Gore, and you've got yourself an authentic bereaved widower.

But actually, Costner is just a supporting player to Robin Wright Penn in this movie. It's her story that is in the spotlight, though Costner's maudlin presence bullies her to the wayside once he's onscreen. She is Theresa, a gorgeous divorcee who has a healthy relationship with her young son, but a difficult time getting over her ex-husband. He's moved on with a new brunette and baby. Every day, Wright wonders to herself, "Did he hate me because I'm beautiful?" The audience wonders the same thing as she vacations on the Cape, sips hot tea, evades suave advances and the advice of her boss to get over it. As she broods jogging along the beach, she stops long enough to pick up a green bottle with her new destiny inside: a mysterious love letter to a Catherine from an equally enigmatic G.

Luckily, Wright doesn't take anything too seriously until later in the movie when she's forced to play this silly melodrama straight. As a research lackey for a Chicago Tribune columnist, she finally does something fun as she tracks down the origin of the letter. Her selfish motivation is oddly reminiscent of Meg Ryan's valiant quest in Sleepless in Seattle. But whereas the latter is whimsical and heart-warming, the Penn-Costner combination is a bust from the start. In fact, Wright has more chemistry with the man she initially mistakes for G than with Costner, her dream man. Not only is it highly unlikely that someone as attractive as Wright would find a bloated, antisocial Costner appealing, it is also impossible to convince the audience that the union is bliss. In one particular scene when Costner visits Wright at her office, a co-worker slips a note to her that says "What a babe!" This is about as incredible as the women on Ally McBeal becoming all a-twitter over an irresistible John Ritter. A few longing glances and tepid declarations simply do not convince us of Wright's attraction to Costner. Maybe he has a great personality we never see. Or is it because he sure can sail a big boat? Looks can be deceiving, but we're certainly not blind.

The romance between Wright and Costner fails at the same time every other relationship in the movie blossoms. Paul Newman shines as Costner's father. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and his wisecracks crackle like spitfire as he schemes to bring the reluctant pair together. At his age, even he has more star quality and charisma than his dull son. His scenes are a welcome relief from the awkwardness of the lovebirds. Costner and Penn are both able to display more emotion and authenticity in their affection for the sarcastic patriarch. In their separate scenes with Newman, both suddenly become more lively, even almost interesting. Despite the welcome antics of a cynical curmudgeon, the love scenes between Costner and Wright become a mere formality in the romance formula.

Unlike the males in the animal kingdom who primp and preen for the females attention, ugly men in Hollywood think that they can attract the most beautiful women by just rolling out of bed and looking pathetic. Tom Hanks echoes this sentiment in the equally fake and unfunny You've Got Mail. While women starve themselves to achieve the chic skeletal look, men can just hide their love handles in boxy clothes. But double chins and receding hair lines are as apparent as this star-studded movie with a plot that flops.