Regarding Henry (1991)

DIRECTOR: Mike Nichols

CAST: Harrison Ford, Annette Bening, Mikki Allen, Bill Nunn, Bruce Altman, Rebecca Miller, Donald Moffat

REVIEW:

There’s the potential of a deeper, more complex movie somewhere inside Regarding Henry, but Mike Nichols’ direction and J.J. Abrams’ script never aims any higher than earnestly treacly “feel good” fluff that paints both the title character’s rehabilitation and character arc (if it can be called that) in simplistic shallow black-and-white.  The result is too technically competent and earnestly intentioned to hate, but its oversimplifications are irritatingly in the way of a better rendition of the basic premise.

Regarding Henry offers an interesting spin on the hate for bloodsucking lawyers; it’s not necessary to actually kill them, just shoot them in the head and they’ll be magically transformed into a decent person.  When we’re introduced to Henry Turner (Harrison Ford), he’s a hard-driving ambitious workaholic and his law firm’s hotshot, ruthlessly stepping on a piteous old couple to win the big case through, we eventually learn, unscrupulous methods.  Henry’s home life is emotionally vacant; he’s cold and distant to his young daughter Rachel (Mikki Allen) and he and his wife Sarah (Annette Bening) aren’t really in love anymore.  One night, he makes a quick run to the corner store for cigarettes and gets shot in the head by a robber.  After a coma and eventually waking up unable to speak or move and not recognizing his own wife and daughter, Henry begins a slow recovery with the help of his physical therapist Bradley (Bill Nunn) until he eventually goes back to a home he barely remembers.  But Henry’s new childlike innocence makes his attempts to re-acclimate to his old life like trying to slip into an ill-fitting suit, especially when he realizes exactly how he won his last big case.

Regarding Henry hands down its life lessons in shallow, simplistic fashion and paints in facilely black-and-white terms.  “Bad Henry” has villainously slicked-back hair, wears dark suits, yells at his daughter for spilling a drink on a piano he never plays, ignores the doorman’s greetings, and stalks around wearing a scowl except when gloating over crushing a couple of poor senior citizens in a court case.  “Good Henry” has “aw shucks” fluffy disheveled hair, wears lighter colors and dislikes his old suits, and hugs the confused doorman.  It’s all about as subtle as the heroes and villains in Westerns distinguished by white and black hats.  Furthermore, Henry’s level of intelligence and awareness post-shooting is inconsistent.  He’s a childlike innocent who wanders around New York City getting himself into awkward situations like accidentally stumbling into an adult movie theater, doesn’t understand to say “when” before his coffee is on the verge of overflowing, and says and does all sorts of awkward embarrassing things in public, yet when the plot calls for it, he’s savvy enough to go back through his last case and unravel the unethical shenanigans he and his law firm pulled to win it.  Henry’s level of functionality seems to fluctuate based on whether the script wants to get laughs or give him a moral victory over his old law firm buddies (who are all venal, of course).  The movie goes out of its way in several scenes to raise the issue of the family’s new financial uncertainty, then never does anything with it, but there’s time for soap opera about old office affairs and Henry giving his own old law firm some explaining to do.  In fact, it’s never resolved exactly how the Turners are going to support themselves—let alone maintain their lifestyle—after the end credits roll, but I guess we’re just supposed to cheer Henry throwing his shady law firm under the bus and showing up to rescue his daughter from the private school he’d dumped her in and not worry about such matters.

Regarding Henry is at least well-acted, or as well as can be expected.  For Harrison Ford, this followed 1985’s Witness on a trajectory of taking more low-key serious dramatic parts to show he could be more than just Han Solo/Indiana Jones; actually he plays even more against type here because Witness still had a couple scenes of going into action hero mode.  Ford’s portrayals of Bad Henry and Good Henry lack much in the way of subtlety or nuance, but while Ford is not a great thespian, it’s hard to fault him for any lack of depth in his portrayal considering the script he’s working with.  Later on, he has some nice, low-key one-on-one scenes with Annette Bening, but they’re not playing three-dimensional human beings, they’re playing mechanical script creations who are what the script needs them to be at any given moment.  Mikki Allen is alright as their sullen daughter, while Bruce Altman has smarm written all over him as Henry’s law partner.  There’s small roles for John Leguizamo (as the shooter) and James Rebhorn (as Henry’s doctor) and screenwriter J.J. Abrams has a bit part as a delivery boy.

There’s a better version of this movie somewhere in an alternate universe, but it’s lost in a treacly script and sanctimonious platitudes.  The movie asks us to regard Henry’s character change and presumably come away with some profound life lesson, but it’s too trite and simplistic to merit any such profundity.

* * 1/2