The Fanatic

Travolta throws his whole being into an extreme, torrential performance that's difficult to dismiss, but it's unfortunately at the service of a shockingly mean, ugly, shallow movie. Directed and co-written by Fred Durst (the front man for the band Limp Bizkit), The Fanatic feels like a poisonous form of revenge against any overzealous fans who may have once crossed Durst's path. And rather than actually taking the time to explore the fan-celebrity relationship, to perhaps look into an emotional void and find some understanding for it, The Fanatic simply attacks both sides of the equation while teetering on the edge of offensiveness in its portrayal of someone with autism.

Moose is depicted as childlike but also invasive, an annoyance, and capable of striking out. Yet -- despite Travolta's intense labors in the role -- none of these things is reconciled into an actual character. Durst seems to have more sympathy for Hunter; the character is shown to be a good father to his young son (except when he plays a Limp Bizkit song for him), although he's also selfish, entitled, and volatile. Both men pay a price for their encounter, and neither comes away having learned anything or benefited in any way. Then there's Leah, whose presence isn't explained (and neither is her out-of-place voice-over narration). The Fanatic is a pointless sketch, stretched out to feature length with sheer anger and nastiness.