by John P. Meyer

A little bland and predictable - kind of a Lost in Translation-with-children scenario, sans the world-weariness. (Oh, and sans Scarlett Johansson. Just for the record.)

When's the last time you saw a film rated PG? Not PG-13, just plain ol' PG. I mean, aside from that worn-out copy of Shrek you queue up to keep the kids (and the wife!) more-or-less occupied in the den while you're out on the patio swilling gin rickeys and casting an occasional proprietary telescopic eye on the neighbors' teenage daughter, who lately seems to be exhibiting strong naturist tendencies. (Wait a minute, I'm projecting.)

Point is, if you're like me, it's a disorienting experience - for instance, 50% of the dialogue you're used to hearing on those pirated Deadwood episodes (i.e., the adjectives) is missing.

So when I tell you that Paradise, Texas - the new film by veteran TV director Lorraine Senna (The Sopranos, Lois & Clark, Northern Exposure) - strikes me as rather bland and predictable, it's probably just because I've long since lost my innocence (*SOB!*), along with the childlike expectation that happy endings are the norm in life rather than the exception. Guess I've been watching too much CNN and Dallas Cowboys football.

Paradise is the story of a jaded, rather self-centered Hollywood actor named Mack Cameron (comfortably portrayed by Timothy Bottoms) whose Hollywood juice is running on empty. As we pick up his story, Mack is in the process of waving goodbye to his prime and coming to terms with the fact that the three people he lives with - his wife and two sons - may end up being more important to him than his agent, his publicist (who also happens to be his Mom) and the thousands of filmgoers who shell out for cinema tickets. Kind of a Lost in Translation-with-children scenario, sans the world-weariness. (Oh, and sans Scarlett Johansson. Just for the record.)

At his home in California, Mack hammers out his next picture deal with his agent while his son, Tyler, scandalizes his middle school after an in-class premiere of a rather dark video project involving cannibalism and his little brother. Meanwhile, back in Mack's hometown of Littleton, Texas, we follow a parallel story line involving a talented but misunderstood youngster named CJ, who, according to his Dad, may end up being more of a baseball type of kid than a footballer - a nice way in small-town Texas of saying he's not very athletic. Which is actually far from the truth: it's just that he's not into team sports but more interested in (GULP!) interpretive dance. When CJ wows the crowd at school talent show tryouts, his drama teacher suggests he apply for an acting role in a little indie film scheduled to shoot nearby.

And thus the twain converge, with Mack (his family in tow) starring in the little indie production and CJ (by hook and crook) finally convincing his rancher dad (Brandon Smith, looking and acting a whole lot like a younger, less-wrinkled version of Barry Corbin) to let him try out for - and ultimately attain - a co-starring role in the film.

CJ is nervous during the first takes, so Mack buddies up with the kid and talks him into acting normally rather than trying to actually act. The friendship that develops between Mack and CJ is at the heart of the story, illuminating as it does the flawed relationship Mack has with his own wife and children. Eventually, due to an unfortunate career setback, the dark side of Mack's personality is allowed to (literally) take center stage, and it's at this point where both the script and Mr. Bottoms' portrayal leave me cocking a skeptical eyebrow. Because, quite clearly, there's no doubt that The Force is going to overcome the Dark Side in the battle for the soul of Matt Cameron, and - frankly - it's difficult to believe Mr. Bottoms' character's spectacular and sudden descent into self-loathing and arrogance; he's just too nice of a guy to begin with.

The kids involved in the production are quite genuinely talented and watchable, as they must be for this story line to work. Outstanding is newbie Ben Estus as CJ, who seems to be channeling Fred Astaire by way of Travolta (in his Urban Cowboy and Saturday Night Fever personas). The kid can move; the kid can act; the kid (to cite Robert Evans) stays in the picture, and he looks pretty darn natural while in the process. Also fun to watch (in part because he bears an eerie behavioral resemblance to my godson) is Dylan Patton as Mack's oldest son Tyler, the budding but twisted filmmaker who loves his celebrity Dad while simultaneously recognizing his shortcomings.

Once it releases on DVD, I'm thinking this little number - with its kid appeal, Texas locales and upbeat sense of humor - may be a prime candidate for replacing my beat-up copy of Shrek. Ahem.

By the way, there's a gala grand opening ceremony at Angelika Dallas scheduled for Friday night, starting with a 6:45 red carpet welcoming ceremony for stars Timothy Bottoms, Ben Estus (of Houston), Emilio Mazur (of Dallas) and Dallas Kiser (of Waller, Texas).

WORDS OF HOMESPUN SMALL-TOWN-TEXAS WISDOM:

"Not everything that walks on two feet in Texas needs to have a ball in its hands." - CJ's mom, Betsy (Sheryl Lee) to husband Cal (Brandon Smith).

"A while ago my barn burned down. I was pretty upset 'til morning. Then, I realized I had a better view of the lake." - tractor-driving farmer to Mack Cameron, taking him back to town after he careens off the road to avoid an armadillo.

SCENES I'M GLAD THEY INCLUDED:

The lame-ass white boy rappers in the school talent tryouts: HILARIOUSLY BAD!

Tyler Cameron's little film project, "Eating My Brother for Breakfast": a stroke of genius to include the actual film at the re-opening of the family drive-in theater.

This story was submitted by a member of the TexasGigs community.

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