Six Degrees of Separation

1993. Dir: Fred Schepisi. Starring: Stockard Channing, Will Smith, Donald Sutherland, Ian McKellen and Mary Beth Hurt. ●●●●○

A tiny lack of funds has meant I had to skip the cinema, and great Kate, at the weekend and watch a DVD instead, randomly selecting Schepisi's 1993 con movie.

I see you may be confused by that categorisation, but in essence Six Degrees follows a con from the point of view of the mark. The film is told in a semi-flashback style, each development of the story being framed by chat at weddings, dinner parties and gallery openings narrated by sophiticated Manhattanites Ouisa and Flan Kitteridge (Stockard Channing and Donald Sutherland). On a seemingly ordinary Saturday night, whilst closing a business deal with Ian McKellen's Suuff eerfrikern accent when Paul (Will Smith) bursts into their apartment bleeding from his stomach.



He then claims to be a) a friend of their kids' from Harvard and b) the son of Sidney Poitier. These both turn out to be gibberish, but he manages to get a clean shirt, a bed for the night and $50. In return he makes dinner, entertains them with incisive, but in retrospect rather dry conversation, and brings a boy from the streets back to the house for some illicit rumpy pumpy.

I won't give any more of the plot away, as it successive twist is both generally satisfying to watch and logical, but ultimately the lives of the Kitteridges and Paul continue to mingle as they find out more about him.

Channing is terrific, as she slowly realises this is not just an after dinner anecdote but a real person that they casually discuss. Her character alone seems to realise that Paul has actually gained very little from them in his trick, aside from giving them fresh perspective on how they view themselves. Sutherland also nails his character but the journey is less dramtic.

The weaker link is definitely Smith, making his transition from Fresh Prince to movie stardom. He's scenes with the Kitteridges are fine with just the right amount of confidence, but he loses his nerve in other places. Especially in the scene with Trent Conway (Anthony Michael Hall), Paul's flamboyant sometime lover. It's an odd scene as Trent is going all doolally over Paul, but when they kiss (an oddly chaste kiss) even the extreme angle of the shot does not hide the gap between their faces and the dubbed "mwoah".

John Guare adapted the film from his 1990 stageplay, which in turn is based on a true incident of a serial con artist pretending to be the son of Sidney Poitier, and whilst knowing that gives the film an aura of truth there are still some jarring elements. It seems hard to believe that all the characters fall for Paul's story; and the ending is a trite forced but these are forgiveable issues.

Judianna Makovsky also needs congratulating on finding a stunning array of suits and dresses that make Stockard Channing appear like a supermodel - she's a new name to me, although she has a fascinating CV, including the upcoming Cirque du Freak which should be a nice stretch for her talents.

By the way, for those of you who don't spend your free time playing six degrees of Kevin Bacon, here is Ouisa helpfully explaining the concept: "I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. The President of the United States, a gondolier in Venice, just fill in the names. I find it extremely comforting that we're so close. I also find it like Chinese water torture, that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound, you are bound, to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people."