13 Times You Lost Respect For Your Favourite Filmmakers

9. Francis Ford Coppola - Jack

Francis Ford Coppola has had a prolific career spanning six decades, but he has never captured the kind of acclaim he garnered throughout the 1970s, where he released a barrage of classic American films. When one looks at that run, which includes masterpieces like The Godfather, The Conversation and Apocalypse Now, it becomes painful to think about one of Coppola's more recent efforts: the inane 1996 feature, Jack - starring Robin Williams at his saccharine worst. Jack is not so much a bad film as it is an aggravating one; everything about it is so good-natured, so sweet, so scrubbed clean of anything approaching style or complexity. Jack also can't decide what it wants to be - it's not so much funny as it is uncomfortable. Additionally, the drama elements come off as being hackneyed and cheesy. Now, probably a great deal of Jack's problems come from the bland script and absolutely terrifying performance of Robin Williams as the titular Jack. Aside from Roberto Benigni barking like a dog in Pinocchio, there has rarely been as creepy an image as Williams leaping into the bed of Diane Lane and Brian Kerwin - who play his parents in the film. Coppola must still share the blame however. In Jack there is not one iota of the director's forceful, unstoppable talent - which once launched careers, built a powerful film company, and changed cinema forever. Instead, Jack is an intensely forgettable film that exists in a complete different universe from the lunatic radicalism found in Apocalypse Now. Thankfully, Coppola extracted himself from the studio filmmaking world soon after the film's release. It's not surprising: after Jack anyone would need to take a break and reevaluate their life decisions.
Contributor
Contributor

Adam Mohrbacher has been afflicted with an obession for film since his earliest memories. In addition to his work with WhatCulture, Adam has been a contributor with Filmophilia.com, FilmMonthly.com and Examiner.com. You can also check out his personal blog here: adammohrbacher@wordpress.com. A devoted fan of all film genres and styles, Adam gets equally giddy over the sensitive, existential musings of Ingmar Bergman, and the brawny brilliance of Arnold Schwartzenegger. He loves fish tacos and misses the work of Heath Ledger and Jack Lemmon on a daily basis.