# Scent of a Woman (1992)

### reviewed by
Jon Webb

                                SCENT OF A WOMAN
                           A film review by Jon Webb
                            Copyright 1993 Jon Webb

Al Pacino plays a blind former Lieutenant Colonel who, being depressed and irascible, has been left in the care of an impoverished prep school boy for Thanksgiving weekend. The Colonel plans a trip to New York City to experience the best life offers and brings the boy along.

I read a review that pointed out that this film was intended to be a sentimental holiday heart-warmer--both the old Colonel and the young boy learn from each other, etc.--but it turned into a much better film because of Al Pacino's performance. That is exactly right. Pacino refuses to give the Colonel the one-dimensional nature that would have made this a superficial film. His portrayal gets to the heart of the character of the Colonel, who is not all bad and not all good, and not completely healed at the end of the film. He mouths the lines given him, turning the good ones (about women) into poetry, and keeping the bad ones (concerning the subplot of the boy's problems at the prep school) from being totally sentimental trash. He makes this film entertaining and worth seeing.

The prep school boy (played by Chris O'Donnell) is also pretty good. Perhaps it is just in reaction to Pacino's performance, but I thought he'd captured the character of such a young man very well, particularly in the early scenes.

That said, there are numerous flaws in this film. The script is bad, and the editing often gives one no impression of time passing -- e.g., at the Thanksgiving Dinner they seem to sit down and have pie, and when the boy is waiting in the car Pacino seems to take about five minutes, which is something of a disappointing climax after such a big buildup.

Even worse, the direction of the Thanksgiving Dinner family is so bad you don't have any idea what's going on. Pacino shows up, and everyone seems constipated. What's going on there? The film is best when O'Donnell and Pacino are alone; at least then they seem to have some idea of what they're doing. Martin Brest, the director, doesn't have a clue.

    -- J

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