Scent of a Woman (1992)

Directed by Martin Brest. Starring Al Pacino, Chris O’Donnell, James Rebhorn, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Gabrielle Anwar, Sally Murphy, Bradley Whitford, Richard Venture, Nicholas Sadler, Rochelle Oliver, Gene Canfield, Margaret Eginton, June Squibb. [R]

Prep school student O’Donnell takes a job “babysitting” hard-drinking, cantankerous Pacino, a retired Army lieutenant colonel who accidentally blinded himself years ago. Remake of Italian film Profumo di donna is about an hour longer and a crate of banana peels clumsier, awkwardly shoehorning in a disciplinary action sub-plot that extends the story past its natural resolution, a scene that’s a hammy and contrived embarrassment for everyone involved (“How’s that for cornball?” barks Pacino at the end of his gauche rant, but he probably can’t handle the truth). Before that, everything is wildly inconsistent, moments of insight, pathos and humor broken up by mawkishness and negligent scenery chewing and scenes that repeatedly drag on at least a couple minutes too long. Pacino won the “career Oscar” for this role, an apology from the Academy for failing to honor him over the course of the last two decades, but the performance is memorable only for wrong reasons (“Hoo-ah!” “I’m just gettin’ warmed up,” etc. fueling the arsenals of a few thousand hack impersonators since); O’Donnell plays his guarded character in such a timid and understated fashion that he blends in with the wallpaper, only the faint sound of a constant, caviling whimper seeping into the gaps between Pacino’s histrionic outbursts. A much better script from Bo Goldman and shrewder editing might have made it a passable watch, but instead all that’s here is the occasional enjoyable moment (the initial meetings between the leads, the tango scene, etc.) and a chance to spot Hoffman before he was famous. Frances Conroy and Ron Eldard have small roles.

41/100