You know something's wrong when you're watching a movie as serious as The Human Stain and all you can think about is a scene from The Jerk. In that comedy from the late '70s, Steve Martin plays a man who was "born a poor black child," a hilarious joke resulting in a good payoff when Martin fails to get into the groove of any music with soul. There is humor in the painful obviousness of his being white; while, in The Human Stain, the audience is asked to view this same painful obviousness in a tragic light.

The Human Stain certainly deserves points for being ambitious. It tries to bring to life a Philip Roth novel about an African-American man, named Coleman Silk, who is so light-skinned, he can, and has, passed himself off as white (Jewish, to be exact). However, this situation must be much easier to cover in a book than in a movie. Such a movie requires very careful casting. The audience has to believe the character they're watching is indeed a black man who happens to have very light skin.

Here, the movie fails in two places. First, it goes through its first act without revealing Coleman's true background -- done, understandably, to make the impact of the revelation more dramatic. But, for that to work, it must also be convincing. Although Wentworth Miller, who plays young Coleman, is at least partially convincing -- he's biracial -- that's not quite the same as being all-black with white skin. As a result, the revelation, which occurs during a scene in which he sits down to dinner with his family, only causes a jarring distraction. We are shown shots of his father, mother, brother, and sister, and then we see a shot of Coleman. And all I could think of was The Jerk. When the screen showed close-ups of Coleman's face, I spent more effort trying to see how his facial features might show signs of his parentage rather than paying attention to the dialogue (which itself creates a whole other matter: trying to listen for African-American inflections in Coleman's voice).

If trying to convince myself about Miller being African-American was a challenge, imagine the problem I faced in believing the same about Anthony Hopkins! Hopkins plays the elder Coleman, replete with British accent and looking nothing like the family members of the past flashbacks. Walking around, delivering his lines, Hopkins looked like... Hopkins. To make matters worse, the part of the movie that covers his time frame has two large weaknesses of its own.

The first and less significant problem comes from his love interest, Faunia. She's an overwrought character played by Nicole Kidman in full conscious-acting mode, depending on  sighing and long pauses to indicate depth. Kidman is a fine actress, but her character doesn't so much complement Hopkins's character as it tries to upstage him.

The bigger weakness, though, relates to what Coleman's interaction with Faunia is meant to achieve for him. In finding a new love late in his life, he is supposed to experience a rejuvenation, but the scenes depicting their relationship are not convincing. The connection he feels with Faunia comes from her similar history of having to disguise her past and their common need to find someone who understands their unusual situations. Unfortunately, the movie prefers to illustrate their time together with sex scenes, bickering, and the looming threat of Faunia's psychotic husband (Ed Harris).

Coleman, in the meantime, becomes more and more defensive in  justifying his passion for Faunia to his associates, leaving us to infer why he has this passion in the first place. The easier conclusion is that he's just another typical protective male in love with a sexy, vulnerable woman. The movie fails to offer insight into their relationship, opting for the less interesting mechanics of the erotic thriller genre.

Miller's part as the young Coleman appears in the film's better storyline -- about how he ultimately comes to his decision to pass as a non-African-American -- but as it cuts in and out of the main narrative through intermittent flashbacks, we can't help realizing that a less compelling story (the one with Hopkins and the sighing Kidman) is also being told. And we are reminded that Hopkins is supposed to be an African-American. Trying to make that jive in my consciousness wouldn't have been more difficult if Steve Martin had been cast in the role. 

(Released by Miramax and rated "R" for sexuality, nudity and language.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.