“George of the Jungle’s” Brendan Fraser grows up to deliver a role as a father, John Crowley, whose two of his three kids have Pompe Disease (a form of Muscular Dystrophy.) Based on the book “The Cure” the true life tale is a slow moving movie that has a little more depth than its generic title. Immediately we do fall in love with little Megan (Meredith Droeger) and Patrick (Diego Valazquez) ages 6 and 8 – stuck inside their debilitating bodies with tiny smiles and big souls with such a will to live. And we fall in love with Fraser’s daddy role – willing to do anything for his children at any cost. Enter Dr Robert Stonehill (Harrison Ford) a pioneer in enzyme research whose findings hold the most promise to a cure. But like any scientist he needs more funding. Can the research meet FDA approval? Can the two men put their own agendas aside for the sake of science? Can you maintain objectivity in science when there’s personal attachment? These are some of the questions asked in this mundane but solid movie. The bigger question to me is why is it that former sex symbol movie stars (like Al Pacino and now Harrison Ford) can only scream their lines in order to make impact so that the audience might actually suspect they can still be hot performers? Ford has completely disintegrated into some annoying old man. The lovely Keri Russell – who was so delightful in “Waitress” – is underused as the depressed and guilt-ridden mother who is helpless in saving her children and only there to throw an arm around Fraser’s neck whenever he comes home with research updates. In the end there’s never anything wrong with this movie but there isn’t anything right. Although it must be said that a box of tissues in its tear-jerking conclusion comes in for the much needed and slight save. And that’s the only reason it garnishes one and a half tiaras
