The growth of the artistic medium of cinema since its inception has been manifested less in a maturation than in an expansion. We who consume its produce have not lost our appetite for all manner of films in all manner of styles and of all manner of levels of quality. A light comedy, a message movie, a silly though successful weepie - all are consolidated into Decoding Annie Parker, an affront to this artistic medium, but a very agreeable movie nonetheless. There's an appetite for some of this in all of us, surely, not least since Steven Bernstein's film is indeed in all manner of styles and of all manner of levels of quality. Bernstein sloppily juggles two narratives of similar substance: cancer-afflicted Annie Parker, correctly convinced that breast cancer runs in her family but without the means to prove it, and Dr. Mary Claire King, both separately straining to find links they each are convinced exist, for their own separate reasons. King's story is less powerful, but more promising, but the screenplay lacks just about all scientific awareness whatsoever, and therefore neglects this more challenging half of the film, which thus quickly becomes reduced to a steady quarter or so instead. If Parker's story lacks momentum, and manages the discouraging feat of refurbishing a true story as a shallow soap opera, its emotional heft does amass by the film's end. Samantha Morton, that most idiosyncratic of actors, is a bizarre but brilliant choice to play Parker, though not all casting choices here turned out to be so fortuitous. Bernstein wobbles between tones with little appreciation of how to make any of them stick; it's a good job he didn't have to come up with the story too, or Decoding Annie Parker might have wobbled right off the screen. Intentional comedy elements rarely catch on, but there's much unintentional comedy to be found in the baffling depiction of time, including employing the same actor to portray Parker's son from age 2 to age 8. Decode that!
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