Wim Wenders’ “The Million Dollar Hotel” (2000) begins with one of the most amazing open sequences I’ve ever seen.
We pull in, or rather we float across the glittering skyline of Los Angeles. The camera cranes around to the massive sign for The Million Dollar Hotel.
On the roof, standing next to the sign is Tom Tom, played by Jeremy Davies. Tom Tom suddenly breaks into a sprint, takes a moment to wave to someone off-camera then dives off the edge. What it all means won’t be clear until the very end.
The story then flashes back to earlier in the year, when Tom Tom was just one of the dozens of strange, sad and lost tenants living in the hotel. By the way, the setting is real: it was filmed inside the Rosslyn Million Dollar Hotel in L.A., the same one where U2 was filmed singing “Where the Streets Have No Name” in their music video.
We learn that a tenant named Izzy Goldkiss (an unbilled Tim Roth) was recently murdered, which explains the sudden appearance of Special Agent J.D. Skinner, FBI (Mel Gibson). To be more specific, Gibson plays him as slightly crazed and pain-riddled with a massive neck brace.
Only Tom Tom knows the secret behind Izzy’s death and he’s not telling anyone. Tom Tom, in his child-like way, is far too busy focusing on his infatuation towards Eloise, the beautiful, equally lost misfit played by Milla Jovovich.
Here’s a true oddity, both in its story and reputation- behold, a Wenders-directed genre bender, written at least partly by Bono of U2, starring Gibson at the height of his fame (fresh from “What Women Want”) and featuring a terrific ensemble cast and a sublime song score from Bono and Brian Eno (among others).
So why haven’t you heard of it?
Wenders’ film made a splashy debut at the 2000 Berlin Film Festival. What followed was a baffled response, bad reviews and even a negative soundbite from Gibson (who clarified that he was kinda-kidding and didn’t realize he was on the record when he called it, “as boring as a dog’s ass”).
While it found an audience overseas, “The Million Dollar Hotel” died a quick death stateside, where it played for barely a single weekend.
A likely culprit for the film’s witness protection release and some wildly varying critics’ assessments? The movie is, to put it mildly, weird with a beard.
People have told me over the years that they hate the film. I get it, as it rambles and frustrates as often as it dazzles, especially during the first act.
The hotel’s other main tenants are played by Gloria Stuart, Jimmy Smits, Bud Cort, Peter Stormare and Amanda Plummer. The film comes to a dead halt whenever they take focus. Any scene where they meet around a red pool table and yammer endlessly feels like bad improv.
Another big problem that nearly derails the film is the near-fatal miscasting of Davies, a fine actor but not entirely right for the role of Tom Tom.
Davies’ whispery, mumbling narration makes subtitles a must. It’s really saying something that the film manages to overcome the lack of a strong protagonist – it actually falls to Gibson’s wonderful slow burn and Jovovich’s excellent performance to carry this.
To be clear, Davies can be extraordinary (just look at his work in “Saving Private Ryan,” “The Black Phone,” “Solaris” and “Rescue Dawn”) but his performance here, as much as it reflects the film’s playful spirit, comes across as one note.
Nevertheless, Davies’ scenes with Jovovich are beautiful, as the innocence and naivete of the characters come across.
Wenders’ film is whimsical, gritty and challenging, especially in the manner it casually changes genres: this is film noir crossed with a love story, murder mystery and experimental drama, emerging like a film from the 1970s.
The episodic nature helps, as the scenes that don’t work are followed by ones that hit hard. There’s always another great scene coming, but that requires audiences to be patient enough to get through the moments that are overindulgent.
“The Million Dollar Hotel” tests your patience but, in the end, rewards it.
Boa noite.
Mila Jovovich – “The Million Dollar Hotel”. Wim Wenders, 2000. pic.twitter.com/7PyJqJCoj7
— Mauricio Machado
(@Mr_Machado) May 9, 2024
As in Richard Kelly’s somewhat similar “Southland Tales” (both in its reputation and refusal to play it safe), a hit-and-miss first hour leads to a third act when everything comes together. In fact, both films conclude with a gala party and a game-changing final reveal.
The best scenes look like Edward Hopper paintings (as was the case in Wenders’ wonderful “The End of Violence” from 1997). This is as scrappy and soulful as Wenders’ “Paris, Texas” (1984) but, unlike Wenders’ 1991 masterpiece, “Until the End of the World,” which belatedly emerged with a 5-hour director’s cut that salvaged a mangled release, “The Million Dollar Hotel” could stand to lose 15-minutes and emerge a stronger work.
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At 100 minutes, it might possibly feel like one of Wenders’ best, instead of an overstuffed two-hour wonder that has too many characters but is still full of stunning visuals and poignant moments.
Perhaps the idea of making the hotel a microcosm of America was overreaching (if that’s even the idea here). Unlike Wenders’ more celebrated works, maybe there’s just too much movie here.
Yet, Wenders, along with Terrence Malick, is one of the few filmmakers whose work make me wander outside to watch a sunset and find time to stare at a starry night sky. His films are journeys, physical and figurative cinematic trips into the unknown with characters who seem less like real people and more akin to figures concocted in poems and love songs.
His films are earnest, in love with life, curious about human nature and full of wonder. I can recall the moments in “The Million Dollar Hotel” I can live without, but I’d also report that the killer opener and the powerful final moments make the missteps worth it.
For adventurous filmgoers, Wenders’ offbeat love story is overdue for rediscovery.
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