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The Caveman's Valentine, 2001, 105 minutes, Rated R
By Carla Robinson
In 1997, Kasi Lemmons’ magical and enigmatic Eve’s Bayou came on the
scene and expanded the notion of what a Black film could be. Free of the stereotypes that
tend to define films about Black Southern life under segregation, it offered an
unflinching and complex view of the ties that bind. As both writer and director of
Eve’s Bayou, Lemmons must be given props forever. But she can’t go on making
Eve’s Bayou. As an artist, she has a right to expand, to go where people don’t
expect to find her. If Ang Lee could helm Sense and Sensibility and Crouching Tiger,
Hidden Dragon, why shouldn’t Lemmons be allowed to diversify?
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She should. But unfortunately, her talents
could be put to better use than The Caveman’s Valentine. And Samuel L. Jackson’s
could too. What began as a successful collaborative relationship between Lemmons and
Jackson goes sour here in George Dawes Green’s adaptation of his 1994 novel. For
whatever reason, there seems to be a serious disconnect between Jackson and the material,
while Lemmons struggles to make sense of a convoluted screenplay.
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© 2001 Universal Studios
Lulu (Aunjanue Ellis), Romulus (Samuel
L. Jackson) and Det. Cork (Peter MacNeill) in The Caveman's Valentine
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Caveman’s world is implausible at best and plodding
at worst. Jackson plays Romulus Ledbetter, also known as The Caveman because he lives in a
cave in a Manhattan park. Apparently, he suffers from some form of schizophrenia. Romulus
was once a Julliard-trained classical musician but is now tormented by a powerful figment
of his imagination he calls Stuyvesant, who, he believes, watches him from atop the
Chrystler Building. Romulus is an interesting, refreshing character cast in a story that
falls short in both regards. This may account for Jackson’s disappointing
performance. With his Chaplin-esque walk and the way he winces every time he delivers a
line, he seems to be trying to find something in the story/character to grab on to.
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It’s a story that begins when Romulus finds a frozen body hanging in a tree outside
his cave and the police dismiss the dead man as a transient drug-addict. Romulus sets out
to prove otherwise. In the process, he enlists the help of his estranged police officer
daughter, Lulu (Aunjanue Ellis), but she wants nothing to do with her crazy father and
insists he let the police handle the matter. So our hero lights out on his own with
nothing but the word of a fellow transient, battling Stuyvesant every step of the way.
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He follows a trail that leads to a famous photographer named David Leppenraub (Colm
Feore). It seems the murdered man was one of Leppenraub’s subjects and Romulus sets
out to prove that he was his victim, as well. Romulus’ journey from the cave to the
upper-crust art world is too easy and contrived. When he actually solves the crime we are
treated to a recap straight out of Scooby Doo. In an overstuffed plot, the simplest part
of the story, Romulus’ relationship with Lulu, is the most powerful. Aside from this
and some postcard perfect visuals, the rest of this murder-mystery/psychodrama is a
throwaway. M
March 2001
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