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A long time ago, when Janeane Garofalo was funny and Owen Wilson wasn’t suicidal, they made a little film called The Minus Man. Now, in preparation for writing this review I did a little research, just to make sure my facts were right. The Minus Man was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, and Roger Ebert called it “A psychological thriller of uncommon power”. Wow. Must be a good movie, right?

Sadly, no.

Starring Sheryl Crow, Brian Cox (who disappointingly did not say anything about his shit tasting like rainbow sherbet), and Dwight Yoakam, among others, The Minus Man is about a blond drifter with a deformed nose – wait, that’s just Owen Wilson’s face.  Let me try again. The Minus Man is about a drifter whose mouth is always puckered like a baby waiting for a fat nipple to be plopped into it – crap, that’s just Owen Wilson’s face again. Okay, one more time. The Minus Man is about a drifter named Vann who may look innocent and have great manners, but when the whimsy hits him, he gives people a little dose from his magic flask filled with amaretto and a poison that puts people down more humanely than pentobarbital does dogs. 

So, what is a free-range serial killer to do in his spare time? Get a job at the post office, of course! While there, Vann woos (clumsily) a sweet yet mildly socially retarded gal named Ferrin (Garofalo). Vann smiles a lot while spouting off little antidotes that Forest Gump would be proud of, but mostly he cruises for victims – the local football hero, an artist, a junkie who looks remarkably like Sheryl Crow trying to act, and so forth. Brian Cox gets drunk and yells (God bless him), and Dwight Yoakam is one of Vann’s two imaginary friends – detectives who routinely question him (the other is Dennis Haysbert, before he was the president).

The Minus Man has several things going for it, including the fact that it was directed by Hampton Fancher, who also adapted the book (Fancher also adapted Blade Runner). The movie is a grossly untapped wealth of potential. It’s a toss up which is more frustrating – trying to maintain interest in the film, or seeing all of the wonderful possibilities go by.

Since this is a re-release (the film was made in 1999), it seems only logical that there would be some cool new features to make purchasing it worthwhile, and yet again I was disappointed. Aside from a collection of biographies of serial killers, the only real feature this DVD has is the trailer.

Now, it’s not your ordinary trailer – in fact, the movie became known for its offbeat campaign. Two people who have just seen the film talk all night long about it without realizing it. There is no footage of the film in the trailer, and it ends with the lines “Don’t see it alone. Unless you like talking to yourself.” Punctuation aside, I must agree with the tagline; my husband and I spent a good deal of time talking about how bored we were waiting for something to happen that would give the film significance, or meaning. Unfortunately, that moment never came.

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