Chaos Theory is the sort of film you never really decide if you like. You know it’s competently made, smacks of truth and made you laugh, but a comprehensive judgment somehow remains impossible. There are certainly worse things than movies that make you think. Indeed, such cranial stimulation is a criterion for greatness in my book. And while Chaos Theory is nowhere close to a great movie, it is adequate enough to make you pause and, at some level, reconsider your own life, if only for a moment.

For mathematicians, the word chaos has a completely different meaning than its general usage. Rather than a state of confusion and disarray, chaos refers to an apparent lack of order in a system that nevertheless obeys very particular laws. Randomness is only an illusion. Not only that, but even the smallest, simplest causes can give rise to the most extraordinarily complex effects.

Frank Allen (Ryan Reynolds) is as predictable as a man can get. An efficient expert who touts the importance of strict schedules, Frank’s life is dictated by inflexible timetables and dictatorial “to do” index cards. In Frank’s world, spontaneity is a four-letter word. Every choice Frank makes is deliberately designed to contribute to a well-ordered life.

But life has a way of fooling with our foolproof systems. After a series of escalating misunderstandings with a belligerent ferryman, a beguiling seductress and an unenthusiastic mother-to-be turns his meticulously ordered life upside down, Frank begins to realize that control is only an illusion. Shaken to his core by a stunning revelation he never saw coming, Frank begins to reexamine everything he once believed. Suddenly, the man known for playing it safe starts living entirely in the moment. His index cards, talismans of symmetry and order, now become a deck of chance, regulated only by the luck of the draw. By replacing the illusion of control with the illusion of chance, will Frank finally stumble upon the key to love, forgiveness and personal freedom?

Chaos Theory is not a comedy in the strictest sense. Though it is being marketed as a comedy (remember the ads for — and the reality of — The Break Up?), the film is a dangerously unstable mix of hilarity and knotty earnestness; too severe even to be called a dark comedy but too funny to be dubbed a melodrama. Unable to settle on a comprehensive tone, this schizophrenia guarantees that neither the humorous moments nor the poignant ones carry much emotional weight. And no emotion means no empathy.

The result is that the film’s lead is unfairly asked to carry the load. He is very nearly up to the task. Emily Mortimer plays Frank’s (woefully underdeveloped) wife, Susan. The British beauty, an unqualified talent in her own right, has now starred with two of this generation’s most promising Ryans — the mesmerizing Ryan Gosling and now, Ryan Reynolds. Reynolds, who was most recently seen in the respectable romantic comedy, Definitely, Maybe worthily flexes his dramatic muscles, proving he is far more than simply a guy blessed with flawless comic timing.

No doubt yearning for an American Beauty-esque satire, the filmmakers behind the inelegant Chaos Theory will have to settle for a middling film that clumsily juggles farce and tragedy without ever finding its footing.

© Copyright 2008 Brandon Fibbs. All rights reserved.