Merci Docteur Rey

The fact that writer-director Andrew Litvack's movie is a Merchant-Ivory production involving, among others, an operatic diva played by Dianne Wiest and Vanessa Redgrave in a small role as herself, might lead viewers to believe it's a classy piece of work, but Merci Docteur Rey is actually a shapeless farce. The intricate but messy plot finds Thomas, a young gay Parisian, using classified ads to seek out a kindred spirit, but finding instead (though Thomas doesn't realize it) the father he's long presumed to be dead--a man who is murdered before Thomas' eyes. Meanwhile, Thomas' mother (Wiest), who knew the truth about the father but kept it a secret from her son, believes that Thomas has been abducted, when he's actually seeking advice from a psychiatrist (although Thomas doesn't know that the shrink recently died and is now being impersonated by a young actress). It's almost impossible to describe how all these plot threads are linked, but at one point in the farrago some Alice B. Toklas-style marijuana-laced brownies make an appearance, leading one to suspect they might have been leftovers from the script conferences. A spry, effervescent approach would be required to elevate the frantic goings-on here, but Litvack's direction is unremittingly broad, with everything played in a stentorian, heavy-handed fashion minus wit or style. A few nice shots of Paris aside, Merci Docteur Rey is mercilessly bad. Not recommended. (F. Swietek)