This film is a high concept dramedy told in the form of a 1940's film noir. What
makes it "high concept" is that it takes place within a contemporary Catholic
high school. An aspiring sophomore writer for the school paper finally gets his
chance at a big scoop. He investigates some stolen SAT exams and follows the
anfractuous trail to the senior class president, whom everyone had thought to be
the All-American boy. His story understandably catches the attention of the high
school principal (Bruce Willis, in self-parody mode) who goes to the locker of
the suspect and finds the stolen tests. The case is closed and the nerdy
reporter is suddenly a toasted and respected student, and is dating the hottest
senior girl.
But something is rotten at St. Donovan's. The reporter comes to believe that the
class president was framed, and that he himself was set up to create the frame.
When he starts to get too close to the truth, the baddies have to discredit him,
so their next move will be to reveal that the reporter personally stole the
tests and framed the president, all in the interest of a great story.
Can he outsmart the evil conspiracy? Can he even figure out what the heck it is?
"Assassination ..." is a sleeper, a pleasant surprise, a consistently clever and
occasionally very entertaining
effort. And yet it is one of those films that leaves the viewer with the feeling
that it should have been a contender, maybe even a masterpiece, but settled for
something less. Part of the problem is the plot's punctilious reproduction of
the messy Raymond Chandler narratives. Chandler's stylistic flourishes, like
his characters who never tell the whole truth even when it would be in their best
interest to do so, always seem appropriate when we see them in old Bogart
movies, but seem absurd when allegedly located in the real world. For example,
the entire complex conspiracy presented in this story would have been solved in
about fifteen minutes of running time if the framed senior president had merely
told the reporter everything he knew right from the beginning - and he had every
reason to do so, and no reason to withhold the info.
There could be ways to pull this story off believably without abandoning
allegiance to the noir genre requirements. The writers could have done it with
point of view, for example, by allowing a gap between the reporter's vision of
himself as Sam Spade, and the genuine reality surrounding him. He could have
pictured himself wearing a trench coat even though we could see he was simply
wearing his school uniform. But these screenwriters couldn't quite find a way to
pull off something like that. Instead they made the decision to style the film
as a black comedy in which the characters and locations are broad, surreal
parodies rather than real people in a real high school. That decision produced
some funny lines, but it also created a great distance between the audience and
the story's characters, even the ones who are supposed to be sympathetic. The
screenwriters had to choose between a poignant, sensible story or strict
adherence to the genre formulas. They chose the latter. Instead of presenting an
involving noir story with credible characters, the film ends up being
essentially an aloof academic exercise in homage, albeit a stylish and often
enjoyable one.
