I can't say that either Jim Carrey or Joel Schumacher have done anything impressive lately, but they do an okay job here. The number 23 is strangely entertaining. With its moody tone, its claustrophobic and haunting photography, its convoluted storytelling, and a lot of walls defaced with black ink, the movie frequently resembles John Carpenter's In the Mouth of Madness. This one is not quite as creative, and even though it occasionally gets clumsy, the film is fairly intriguing and might be worth checking out if you like scary thrillers.
Jim Carrey is Walter Sparrow, a mild mannered dog catcher who has a nice family and a dull life. On Chrismas week, his wife buys him a strange memoir entitled 'The number 23'. Sparrow is a little sceptic at first, but once he starts to read he quickly gains interest, and is surprised to discover that the story has remarkable resemblance to his own life. One aspect in particular has gotten his attention. Sparrow starts to notice the number 23 itself appear everywhere, in dates, names, times... It gets him quite excited. Soon however, this hysteria will take him down a dark road as he seeks to find out the truth about what is really going on. What does the number mean? who wrote the novel? and what does it have to do with him?
The funny thing about the movie, is that the whole 23 concept ends up being kind of eluding and irrelevant. It feels like little more than a plot element to throw the viewer off track so we cannot figure out the movie before it is ready to give us the climactic twist. Depending on how focused you are on the picture, it may or may not work. The ending is strangely predicable in a way, although not too blatantly.
I can't say much for the acting (esspecially Carrey) but the cinematography and music are quite eccentric. There are times when the Number 23 feels like a cross between a Jazzy scored film-noir and a comic book.
I guess in the end, the movie could use a little work, but of course nothing is perfect. Try it and see what it does for you. It's not 2 bad3 .
