Friday, Feb. 15, 2002 | 10 a.m.
It's been said a thousand times by critics more experienced than I, but I'll say it again anyway: Denzel Washington is one of the best actors working today. He can convince you of anything in the space of milliseconds. Even when he appears in a flawed film, such as Nick Cassavetes' "John Q.," you can't shake your belief that he is who he says he is, and that the reality around him is being somehow distorted. It couldn't really be happening to him, could it?
Washington plays the presidential-named John Quincy Archibald, a classic example of a good man in a bad season. He's behind on the family bills, and his hours have been cut at the factory; nevertheless, he manages. He works hard, goes to church, truly loves his wife, Denise (Kimberly Elise), and dotes on his son, Michael (Daniel E. Smith). Shortly after Michael collapses during a Little League game, John discovers that his son has a bad heart that needs to be replaced -- and worse still, he's trapped in the ugly, convoluted bureaucracy of America's health-care system.
No one is able -- or, it seems, willing -- to help Michael. The hospital staff, under the administration of tough-talking Rebecca Payne (Anne Heche, in an underwritten villain's role), wants Michael out: John's HMO won't cover the operation, and costs are mounting. Government agencies bounce the parents from one refusal to the next. Finally, on the day Michael is to be released, John takes the boy's heart specialist Dr. Turner (James Woods) hostage, seizing the emergency room in the process. Put my son on the transplant list, he tells hostage negotiator Grimes (Robert Duvall), or else.
If "John Q." sounds like an episode of "E.R." or "Chicago Hope" to you, that's because it could have been. Writer James Kearns comes from television ("Wiseguy," "Jake and the Fatman") and obviously still feels the constraints of that medium: All the dramatic action of "John Q." happens on a television scale. The cops that surround the hospital say things like, "I've got the shot; I'm taking it." The nurses exclaim, "It's a miracle, doctor!" Family, friends, onlookers and media all behave according to rigid and all-too-familiar patterns.
Except for the title character. Washington infuses John with enough heart, soul and strength to almost carry the picture. He develops a quick rapport with his hostages, most notably Eddie Griffin, who provides "John Q.'s" only humor. Washington speaks only when he has to and steps back when the film needs to move forward. It's a trait the character shares with the actor that plays him, and Washington knows it.
Washington knows his character almost as well, I'd guess, as director Cassavetes does. Cassavetes' real-life daughter Sasha, to whom "John Q." is dedicated, has been on the organ transplant list for two years, waiting for a suitable donor. The director has said in interviews that he wanted to express the desperation he's feeling as a parent, and he succeeds; however, the film's other message -- health-care reform -- gets fumbled through preachy, ham-fisted dialogue.
It's a big message to get out, and even at his best, Washington can't bear that burden alone.
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