'Phil Spector' review: Waste of talent

The air is sucked out of the "Phil Spector" balloon, or -- because this is Spector, after all -- it's like a long screech of the needle across one of his 45s. All this for nothing? The convincing patter of Mamet-speak? Pacino Method-acting his way right into Spector's nutty soul? One of the great actors of our time forced to wear a Krusty the Clown wig just because it might look good?

Surely there had to be a reason for all this -- new evidence suggesting Spector was innocent; or a famous playwright establishing the truth through art? Something. Anything. But apparently nothing. And as a result, "Phil Spector" is an empty vessel. It's neither a commentary on the celebrity justice system nor a look at the nature of human prejudice. You're left to wonder why anyone, Mamet or Pacino especially, wanted to go to all the trouble. The caveat emptor could be a fig leaf to divert the many critics of this film -- notably those who insist Clarkson was murdered -- but if so, then where does the hard truth begin (or end)? From this, you'll never know. (In real life, Spector was convicted of second-degree murder at a second trial in 2009 and is now serving a prison sentence of 19 years to life.)

SEE PHOTOSPacino's memorable roles