Breaking and Entering (DVD)

Posted by Maggie Van Ostrand (maggie@filmschoolrejects.com) on May 1, 2007

Like a new outfit from Rodeo Drive, it took me awhile to squeeze myself into Breaking & Entering, but eventually, it fit. Sort of.

I’m partial to character studies and this was rife with them — two families coming together for reasons that become clearer as the film weaves together, via a series of robberies, the lives of Amira, a Bosnian immigrant in London (Juliette Binoche), and her thieving son Miro (Rafi Gavron), with Will, an architect (Jude Law), his girlfriend of ten years, Liv (Robin Wright Penn) and her 10-year-old gymnast daughter Bea (Poppy Rogers) with ADD or something equally energetic.

Watching Bea’s constant activity and inability to sleep is enough to try the patience of the viewer, and is the underlying reason for Liv’s comparative inattention to Will. Sometimes she even sleeps with Bea to calm her down, leaving Will to ponder their long relationship.

Working on the architectural improvement of Kings Cross, a run-down area of London, Sandy (Martin Freeman of BBC’s “The Office”) stands out as Law’s business partner but doesn’t have as much screen time as I would have liked. When he is onscreen, he’s the one I watch. He’s smitten with a beautiful woman who’s part of the cleaning crew that takes care of their offices after hours. I wish she had been given a bigger role because there seemed no point to her character. It is these two characters I would have enjoyed seeing developed further as a secondary plot line.

There is a brief and curious turn by Vera Farmiga as a neighborhood hooker who thrice floats in and out of Will’s life for no apparent reason except possibly to supply yet another accent to puzzle over.

The plot, briefly: Will and Sandy are working on an urban renewal project in an area known for flourishing prostitution and drug deals. As Will and Liv deal with their relationship problems, he has also to deal with constant burglaries at the warehouse-office, thefts of Apple computer equipment (product placement anyone?) and flat-screen TVs, even tiny figurines from their mock-up of what the area will look like after their designs are implemented. No clue is given as to why the little figures are stolen but they must be symbolic of something. Binoche’s son and a gang of nimble kids leap from building to building, and do their own share of flipping gymnastics which do not appear to tie in with Bea’s strenuous practice sessions with her trainer, yet the parallel must be there for a reason I just can’t find.

Will chases Miro at one point and learns where he lives and that mother Amira is working at home as a tailor. He brings some suits to her for repair and they soon embark on an affair. There’s enough nudity to please anyone who requires it, even if it isn’t gratuitous.

Any more of the plot will be a spoiler, so you’ll have to get the DVD and judge this Weinstein/Miramax/Mirage release for yourself.

Oscar-winning writer-director Anthony (The English Patient) Minghella, has a habit I find extremely disconcerting in Breaking & Entering — lots of blurred beginnings and endings of scenes that give new dimensions to the phrase “fade out.” Perhaps he intends one to experience something other than squinting and turning away from the screen in frustration as the people get and stay all fuzzy, but at least in my case, he failed.

DVD extras include informative interviews with all principal players, including producer Sydney Pollack who explains how the title Breaking & Entering analogizes both the handiwork of Miro and the gang, as well as the broken relationships, and how each is healed.

Also in Extras are Writer-Producer Minghella’s commentary track during the film, six deleted scenes (with or without his commentary) and the theatrical trailer.

This is an example of trailers gone wrong. They made the movie sound like a thriller, but it’s hardly that. In fact, sometimes is drags along but, to be fair, I thought the same thing about Ordinary People, and that won an Oscar.

Read more articles by Maggie Van Ostrand