Farrell plays Stu Shepard, a self absorbed PR man and all-round player of games. He has numerous clients, acquaintances, an intern he doesn't pay, a wife, he plans to cheat on and a potential mistress in the form of struggling actress Pamela McFadden (Katie Holmes). Careful not to get caught in his adulterous scheme he uses a payphone to contact Pamela on a daily basis, even taking off his wedding ring as part of his ritual. It is after one such call that Shepard picks up the phone expecting Pamela only to find himself at the mercies of an unnamed man threatening to shoot him unless he does as his tormentor commands. So begins an afternoon of humiliation, mind games and confessions as Stu's life and sins are laid bare by his nemesis to a growing audience of cops, passers by and inevitably, the media.

Held back over the Washington Sniper incident last year the delay in releasing Phonebooth probably helped more than hindered the film's earning potential. Farrell, much more visible now than six months ago thanks to films such as The Recruit and Daredevil demonstrates enough talent to carry the film himself which is certainly a good thing as he is the locus of all the action for ninety minutes. By turns cocky and panic-stricken he is hardly a sympathetic character, if anything he is a worthy target but what compels is how the police unravel the threads of the situation in a one step forward, two steps back manner. Forest Whitaker's police Captain takes the credit for sussing out there is more to Stu's situation than meets the eye.

Given the confines of the story much of the cast are reduced to gazing in awe through police barriers as the plot unfolds. Actions not in the immediate vicinity of the booth are shown as inserts and a few asides are given the voice over treatment to provide some colour and fill in some expository blanks. The sparseness of the story however leads to an imbalance in the casting, in particular the disparity between Farrell's love interests Katie Holmes and Radha Mitchell. Holmes has nothing to do but gurn and probably says less than 200 words for her troubles while Mitchell says more and actually impacts on the plot but arouses less sympathy, overshadowed by her dewey eyed, more recognisable counterpart.

As for the script clocking in at a grand thirty years of age it is older than it's leading man, demanding some fine-tuning to make it contemporary in the face of technological advancements since it's first draft. Covering up any possible anachronisms is a tedious CGI based narrative frame introducing the setting as 'the last phone booth in New York'. Using such a conceit would indicate that Schumacher seems intent on packaging this film as a popcorn thriller for the multiplexes even though the character focus of the story and it's cinelit premise would have it play just as well in the arthouses (as with his earlier effort with Farrell, Tigerland) or more intriguingly on the stage such is the sense of intimacy the setting allows for. Alas no such subtlety is even alluded to here and instead of an intelligent hybrid movie what we get is a frenzy of clever edits, flashing blue lights and blink-and-you'll-miss-'em plot points with varying degrees of effectiveness.

Overall Phone Booth is another solid entry in Schumacher's canon of 'smaller films that are good but not great.' As a contemporary take on Hitchcockian suspense it works well without veering into homage territory but suffers a bit for its age in the scripting. It may lack the innovation of Flatliners or The Lost Boys but thankfully it leaves his Batman films in the shade. One hopes Schumacher's future efforts will retain this level of quality, without requiring any more franchise disasters to fund them.

Niall Kitson

Read Lir Mac Cárthaigh's career review of Larry Cohen.