The New Gods is a poor man's Good Will Hunting, in which a young,
once-in-a-generation mind (this time, he's a poet) is torn between his loyalty to
the dead-end stomping ground of his youth and the future of far-flung fame and fortune
that his talent promises. But The New Gods is missing out on the one element
that made van Sant's film work: If you're already asking the audience to suspend
its disbelief by making your protagonist the "best [fill in the blank] in the
world" (especially when you can't prove it on screen - the film offers almost
no examples of his poetry), then you had better take it to the hilt and make the
whole affair sexy as hell, too. Unfortunately, the bland poet-protagonist bears no
semblance to a hero, or even an anti-hero, and so the straw myth that the filmmaker
has so precariously invited us into has no sustaining force - it topples around our
heads before we've even begun. Add to this mix such weakly melodramatic elements
as a sadistic law enforcement officer and a best friend up on a murder rap, and it
becomes apparent that the film itself didn't trust the myth at the heart of its own
story, either.
--Jerry Johnson
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