Perhaps the late James Stewart, one of Hollywood’s staunchest Republicans, wouldn’t be rolling in his grave in response to “Jimmy,” a biopic focused on his military service rather than his artistry. But either way, Stewart deserves better than this hokey, superficial portrait that fits the popular notion of an American mensch and everyman hero but has little interest to say about him as a person or an icon. This film is further enhanced by “Riverdale” star KJ Apa’s enthusiastic but subtle portrayal, which mostly captures the star’s distinctive charm and badass personality, but like the film itself, only gives him the appearance of a soulful soul.
Directed by Aaron Burns and released by Fathom Entertainment, whose previous two films were produced by the publishing arm of Christian studio Affirm Films, “Jimmy” is not overtly faith-based but at least faith-adjacent, placing heavy emphasis on Stewart’s Presbyterian background and reflecting multiple moments of religious epiphany when things go wrong. It’s no coincidence that the most detailed look at the subject’s Hollywood career is the reconstruction of the famous bridge prayer scene from “It’s a Wonderful Life,” which Stewart describes as his favorite of all his films.
These are all unsurprising choices to make when portraying a star who is widely loved by the public for his air of perfectly casual decency and whose career has been marked by family values and patriotic duty, rejecting the glamor and decadence of Hollywood. But “Jimmy” carries none of these qualities inside and out, instead turning its eponymous protagonist into a bland receptacle for one-size-fits-all virtue. Not so Stewart, written by Justin Strawhand and played by Apa the The everyman of American cinema is undoubtedly an interchangeable good guy with distinctive vocal mannerisms; When the film tries to get under his skin, it arrives at a pretty generic snapshot of World War II-related PTSD.
opening in media resStewart was presented with the idea for “It’s a Wonderful Life” by his close friend and fellow World War II soldier Frank Capra (Max Casella), and Capra’s claim that “a hundred years from now this movie will be remembered” was not entirely accepted. (The fact that the director was almost certainly right doesn’t excuse such exhaustingly on-the-nose writing.) Fast forward five years: It’s 1941, and Stewart, fresh off his Academy Award win for “The Philadelphia Story,” has just received his draft letter from the U.S. Army. Louis B. Mayer (a mature Jason Alexander) ignores this, eager for the star to capitalize on his post-Oscar glory, while toxic gossip columnist Hedda Hopper (Sarah Drew) reports that Stewart has dodged the draft.
Stewart is further goaded by his stern, stern father (Neal McDonough), who dismisses his son’s military aspirations with amusing sarcasm: “Go back to Hollywood and make peace with the fact that you are who you are.” Determined to serve, he eventually enlists in the Air Force and takes a five-year break from the screen when America enters the war and is stationed in England as a bomber pilot for the 453rd Bombardment Group. There he bonds with the less famous men under his command, engages in aerial battles shot in synthetic video game style, and enters into a dull, fictionalized romance with fragile, aristocratic Englishwoman Julia (Kara Killmer). And so the former movie star, instead of making a movie, is effectively living for change.
None of this is particularly illuminating, and the opportunity to depict the conflict between Stewart’s celebrity, soldier, and civilian identities is squandered by a consistently false, ennobling tone of judgment. Our hero speaks mostly in platitudes (“I want to look at myself in the mirror and see a good man looking back at me”, “I don’t want to be God, I want to be a man”), which makes him a bit of a pillbuster. We also barely feel the seismic shift of worlds from backcountry to battle, as cinematographer James Mather applies the same smooth gilded coating throughout; Whether it captures Hollywood art or not, you can feel the camera moving in every frame of the film. At the lowest point of the “It’s a Wonderful Life” shoot, when the trauma was at its most intense, Stewart was given advice that would get him back in shape: “What the audience needs is the truth; are you brave enough to give it to them?” Jimmy after all; “Jimmy,” not really.