Parents' Guide to A Million Little Pieces

Frey's story is intended as a scared-straight awakening, but it feels more like a series of slaps in the face. Watching A Million Little Pieces is a visceral experience that's meant to shock you into understanding the intense struggle of trying to escape addiction. But it ends up being too much unpleasant imagery and too little story-building. For instance, we get a year-by-year laundry list of James' dalliances with drugs and alcohol but never hear which events led him to pursue a high so relentlessly. And it's hard to see why other characters are drawn to him: He's a world-class jerk. Director Sam Taylor-Johnson and her husband/the film's star, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, co-wrote the script -- Aaron's first produced screenplay and Sam's second. The gritty memoir is a big bite for one's first chew; instead of a story that flows, what we get is a series of rehab vignettes.

Both Taylor-Johnsons have immense talent, and so they're almost at odds with their own creation. Sam, known for her eye as an artist, adds a lovely aesthetic to scenes that are otherwise repulsive: a crack den fight; a wild party where James is high out of his mind and dancing fully naked, nethers swinging; and even a moment when he's slipping and sliding in the excrement he envisions running down the walls. Aaron is one of the finest actors of his generation, and it's easy to see why he'd be eager to bring his touch to this complicated character. But because of the disjointed storytelling, his performances comes off overwrought and act-y. Even old pro Billy Bob Thornton doesn't sizzle in every scene: His down home, comfortable delivery is welcome but out of place. Juliette Lewis, on the other hand, is spot on as a former addict-turned-drug counselor. In some scenes, elements shine; in others, those same elements fail. Living up to its title, the completed work never quite gels.