
When was the last time Al Pacino appeared uncomfortable or nervous on screen? Early in Danny Collins, an unabashedly mawkish trifle from writer/director Dan Fogelman, Pacino strides onto the stage at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles, and belts out a pop song that can best be described as a really bad Neil Diamond knock-off. (Think "Sweet Caroline," if you've ever had that planted in your ear.) Pacino smiles and sings and walks about the stage as though he's never been on stage before, awkwardly gyrating as his backup band plays loudly and the grey-haired audience erupts into a million orgasms. As the scene unfolds, I thought I was watching a disaster in slow motion. How could Pacino, a longtime veteran of stage and screen,...
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