The Soloist

"The Soloist," based on the real-world memoir and journalism of Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez, tells the story of Nathaniel Ayers (Jamie Foxx), a homeless man Lopez (Robert Downey Jr.) finds on the streets of downtown Los Angeles making beautiful music with a beaten-up, two-stringed violin. Ayers, who once attended Juilliard but now sleeps in the streets, apologizes to Lopez when they first meet: "You'll have to pardon my appearance; I've had a few setbacks." Lopez (who we saw tumble off his bike in the opener) smiles and points at his own scars: "Me too."

Adapted by Susannah Grant (screenwriter of "Erin Brockovich") and directed by Joe Wright ("Atonement," "Pride & Prejudice"), "The Soloist" is like its two protagonists: It's a little messy and beaten up in spots, but ultimately it's decent and dignified. There are a few places it feels overdone, to be sure: I wanted to slap my hand to my head the 10th time we saw an American flag feebly fluttering in tatters in the background, and I wanted to slap my hand to Wright's head the 20th time the stars and bars symbolically swam into view. Yet even then, "the Soloist" doesn't sugarcoat the facts or let its characters off the hook in the name of easy drama. Catherine Keener, playing a fictionalized higher-up who's both Lopez's editor and ex, drunkenly mocks Lopez for his well-read, well-reviewed, award-winning work that might be a lucrative book before it does one damn thing to help Ayers; the moment burns just right, like a sobering shot of whiskey.

And we see the different ways in which Lopez follows Ayers: at first as a story he can cover, then as a problem he can solve, and ultimately as a man he can try to understand. Downey's performance is far trickier than it first looks, with his caustic, clever and quick wit turning into real warmth as Lopez tries to write a second draft for Ayers and himself in life, not just on the page. (Much of the narration is Lopez writing, rewriting and revising his column out loud in his head, and Downey makes that internal process an external one -- we get to see Lopez's mind struggle with the world to get it all down just right.)

And Foxx's part may at first look like a greasy hunk of half-rancid Oscar bait, but Nathaniel isn't cut from the same cloth as Dustin Hoffman's work in "Rain Man" or Robin Williams in "The Fisher King." Foxx, working from the script, doesn't play Ayers as some kind of cuddly eccentric; Ayers is insane and at times a real danger to himself and to others around him. Ayers plays (music) well; can Lopez and the not-for-profit sector actually help him play well with others? "The Soloist" even makes a nice piece of parallel programming with "State of Play" (now that newspapers are dying, we're getting all these nice movies about them, much as you'd compliment the condemned on what they wore to the gallows): While "State of Play" reminded us that good journalism can speak up against the powerful, "The Soloist" reminds us that good journalism can speak up for the powerless.

Some will suggest that Wright goes a little overboard in depicting Ayers' struggle with madness and the struggles of the homeless of Los Angeles (a long tracking shot over Skid Row here echoes the pan-over-Dunkirk shot from "Atonement," with Wright repeating his own work to show a different kind of fallen on a different kind of battleground). But then there are certain moments "The Soloist" gets right -- like the swooping, blurring ecstasy of Ayers listening to a concert hall rehearsal of Beethoven, with effects and edits and camera moves capturing a dizzying moment of pure artistic transport with a hint of madness to it -- and you forgive a lot.

The movie is backed by Participant Productions, the socially conscious production team that has made films like "North Country" and "Syriana." "The Soloist," like those films, doesn't pretend to have all the answers, but it at least has the guts to ask a few questions: What are we going to lose when we lose newspapers? What can we do about the mentally ill homeless? How can you live without helping your fellow man, and how do you help your fellow man and still live? "The Soloist" asks us things we don't want to think about, in a clear yet conflicted tone that suggests it's already thought about them, and it does so through a human and sincere story that's about people and not just public policy. It reminds us that while we can make a little music on our own, the difficult-but-wonderful task of real harmony takes other people. And it does so with just enough blunt charm and tough intelligence that we willingly tune out the few flat notes and cliché chords it hits along the way.