Mulder, Moody, Jones

I have a new and lasting love for dear Mr. David Duchovny. I'm new to this bandwagon, having never been a fan of the X-Files, and my new found obsession began with his role in Californication. He stole my heart playing the lead role as writer Hank Moody. Heartwarmingly depraved and wonderfully perverse, this bad boy steals every scene with his abrasive expulsion of mystery in a snarky, sardonic demeanor superimposed with wit and unfaltering love. What could possibly be more thrilling and desirable than a hard-shelled man with a soft, gooey (and savory) center? Mr. Duchovny's recent role in The Joneses plays on his quiet, more body-language oriented acting method that leaves the audience holding its breath waiting for a moment of Duchovny thrill that never really arrives. While the idea for the film is almost original, and its commentary on consumerism haunting, it leaves little for its starring cast to work with. Its build up is left expanding with no exhalation, a rich, dry cookie with no milk to accompany it. If better expanded, perhaps with small elements of the dead-pan humor that Duchovny works so well with, it could have been a real gem in the catalogue of film. Alas, the idea remains an unpolished diamond, waiting to be snatched from the coal mine and cut into a park avenue beauty.