\Factotum"" is defined as a man who performs many jobs, which is, in fact, what Henry Chinaski does. As portrayed by Matt Dillon in a crafty performance, Chinaski—the alter ego of author Charles Bukowski—drifts through life perpetually seeking his next drink and, as constantly hitting the sauce requires quite a bit of cash, his next temporary stint of employment.
Norwegian director Bent Hamer (best known for 2003's ""Kitchen Stories"") spends a lot of time observing Dillon dispassionately pursuing his next paycheck, which usually ends in a bout of disorderly behavior and a prompt firing. Chinaski has relationships with two fading barflies—Laura (Marisa Tomei), who is part of a rich Frenchman's quartet of groupies, and Jan (Lili Taylor), an on-again, off-again girlfriend who sometimes seems to be his drunken, female equivalent. Between constant drinking and screwing, Chinaski occasionally writes.
And that's about all there is to ""Factotum."" Hamer and co- writer Jim Stark allow ample time for Dillon to amble around and wax philosophical about his lousy life via voiceover, but unlike 1987's ""Barfly"" (in which Chinaski was played by Mickey Rourke), there are few memorable lines or exchanges.
This is a decidedly minimalist affair, but despite the overall quality of the acting and Hamer's admirable skill in creating a hell of a stark composition, it is too somber and meandering for its own good. A slow-paced string of loosely related, boozy encounters may work marvelously on the page, but it does not make for compelling cinema.
But this isn't a film to be dismissed, either. Dillon, fresh off his justly deserved Oscar nomination for ""Crash,"" again expands his range further to show why he is one of the most underrated actors in America. Equally underrated, impressive and understated is Taylor, whose versatility from movie to movie often goes unnoticed. Jan's bleak relationship with Henry provides the film a few touching, genuinely memorable scenes, as they are two individuals who clash because they are so incorrigibly similar. The best scene of the film occurs when, in one painstaking, flawless take, Hamer lingers on Chinaski's classy morning routine of grudgingly waking, puking and drinking, which is immediately repeated exactly by Jan.
But no matter how convincing Jan and Chinaski's kooky relationship is, it doesn't live up to the inebriated courtship between Mickey Rourke's Chinaski and Faye Dunaway's alcoholic in ""Barfly."" Although Bukowski himself wrote ""Barfly,"" he repeatedly denounced it, and even though many critics have speculated he would approve more of ""Factotum,"" Barbet Schroeder's 1987 film was a much more satisfying portrayal.
As dependably solid as Dillon is in ""Factotum,"" what with his hangdog gaze and fluctuating paunch, he somehow appears too handsome and clean cut. Rourke, on the other hand, had no problem conveying credibly grubby charisma, and his Chinaski was an indelibly magnetic slob. ""Factotum's"" Chinaski is often too morose to be interesting; he does everything reluctantly and wearily—even beating someone up seems like a chore.
Overall, ""Factotum"" is the kind of dour and sour movie that critics like to praise because of its unwavering thematic stability and pessimism. Yes, Hamer has a distinctive touch worthy of the accolades he's been receiving, and ""Factotum"" captures the drudgery of menial labor well, but to what end? Chinaski is the same skid-row loser at the end as he was in the beginning, despite the ray of hope the possibility of a published story presents.
If ""Factotum"" is truly the unfettered essence of Bukowski on film, the author's unique literary perspective should never be adapted for the movies ever again.
