As an intergalactic smuggler-cum-fighter pilot and a whip-wielding explorer, Harrison Ford cemented his status as the biggest badass of modern cinema decades ago. But if the embarrassment of the last Indiana Jones movie and Ford’s continuing decline into the depths of senior citizenship haven’t entirely eroded his renegade reputation, his latest role—as a supporting character in a Brendan Fraser movie—certainly will.
In Extraordinary Measures, Fraser stars as John Crowley, a lovable businessman and dedicated father of two children who are battling Pompe Disease, a fast-acting, life-threatening muscular condition. At ages six and eight, the kids are quickly approaching the incurable disease’s life expectancy of nine years, and Crowley is frantic to prevent what most doctors declared as the inevitable. As a final act of desperation, Crowley jeopardizes his family’s finances when he quits his job to enter the risky private-research business with the eccentric Dr. Robert Stonehill (Ford), a disgruntled scientist with revolutionary ideas for the treatment of Pompe.
The pairing works surprisingly well, comically juxtaposing the buttoned-down Crowley with the rebellious Stonehill. Certainly, Ford’s extensive experience playing the insubordinate, condescending jerk who always manages to save the day serves him well.
“Brendan! How many times do I have to say no to The Mummy 4?” (IMDB)
But from the tear-jerking scenes of sick children laughing, to the casting of Fraser as the lovable good guy—not to mention Keri Russell as his flat, maternal wife—the movie takes few risks in its quest for audience affection. Extraordinary Measures fluctuates between heartwarming moments of family love and desperate realizations that the children’s time is running short, though the latter scenes lack poignancy and empathy.
It certainly doesn’t help that the Ford-Fraser dynamic further undermines the intended emotional impact. Shockingly, odd couple comedy doesn’t lend much gravity to a movie about terminally ill children. Rather than providing comic relief for the occasionally distressing plot, the partnership makes the movie much more light-hearted than it should be.
Although the film claims to be “inspired by true events,” Dr. Stonehill is as fictitious as Winnie the Pooh. As much as the audience loves watching Ford drive a pick-up truck, mentally abuse young scientists, and mockingly call his business partner from the Garden State “Jersey,” his performance focuses on Stonehill’s larger-than-life personality at the expense of the kids he was invented to save.
The movie remains formulaic right to its end, when the overly-sappy score takes over and subheadings on the screen explain how the semi-fictional characters lived out their own happily-ever-afters. Extraordinary Measures certainly ends with a smile, but the audience is happier for yet another Harrison Ford victory than for the family he delivered from misery.
