Films reviewed in
June
2002
(Last Updated
09/02/02
)
Links to the films of last
year By Greg Douglass
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Minority Report
6/23/2002 |
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I had so much prepared to write too. Notes that were based on many splendid ideas that almost came to fruition but then didn't on purpose. It seems that big ideas go poof in this, a half-ambitious, half-great film that ultimately can’t be respected due to its deliberate failure in not being profound when that's exactly what was promised in the first two acts. Fact is, this is not a film about the future, this is not a film about destiny or fate and this is not a film about the fragile nature of civil rights in a future controlled by machines and not faith… there is something sinister going on here, and in the end (brace yourselves) what that is may be Spielberg and his near pedophiliac obsession with young, sweet sweet youth, and meaningless sentiments that entertain like a quick heroine fix but do not last.
After the young robo-boy in "AI" jumped into bed to sleep with his
attractive mommy for all time I should have figured something was up; that
sole little girl in red should have supplied a curious warning; ten years
ago, in the F film, “Hook,” with Robin Williams dream to hang out and be one
those young boys in never never land for all eternity... oh yeah, and what
about the young boy Christian Bale in “Empire of the Sun;” that young boy
involved with ET; that young boy getting taken up up and away in “Close
Encounters of a Third Kind?” I’m starting to get the impression that if you
gave Mr. Spielberg a Rorschach test with a meaningless blotch that looked
like black inc vomit, and asked him what he thought of it, he would say in
that Daphne Duck cadence: “Well, that’sh a young boy in schwimming trunks of
courche.”
I may be overreacting but I shouldn’t fault the whole film (a
collaborative project on one level) for it’s creepy and overrated director.
But I can't separate the two this time out. Yes, many work on any given film
(just as parents work on young children) but the success and failure rests
primarily on the director (the imaginative child) and his or her "choices."
The director is the movie and the movie is the director (should there be two
separate Oscars for best picture and best director? No way). This film, for
most of its running time (get the pun) is outstanding, I was thinking
A- territory, but ultimately, a good film without a good follow-through is a
bad film. Right? I fundamentally believe this and I am pissed that it all
came down to Spielberg not being able to finish his film— his “AI” also had
serious follow-through problems and "this was no (boating) accident" for the
the man is a flawed filmmaker. A good producer over an honest storyteller.
I'm sorry but I just can't get past the idea that lofty notions were
discarded on behalf of Spielberg's Michael Jacksonian id-- the whole
my-child-was-killed-I-want-him-back/heartwarming/mass-audience friendly
subplot is worthless and obviously belongs in a different film. And not only
that but Spielberg's anti-intellectual stance got me thinking, why bother
bringing up any idea if you have no intention of discussing later on it in
the film? Notions of fate vs. random existentialism in their relation to
getting sacked by the government for things you haven't done yet-- and many
more-- turn into a sad gimmick, and the brainy ideas were only present to
supply the film with, what I consider to be a third act twist. Now, getting
into the details would spoil the plot but believe me, the ending is so
forced and happy and abrupt that I cringed. I'll just say that the arc of
Tom Cruse's character is not handled in an adult manner (Spoiler
ahead: It is lame to think that just because you have a film about a
couple who has lost a child, and then that said film ends with the couple
pregnant again that everything, all the angst leading up to the forced happy
ending, was all for not because life is magically okay again. Fuck you
Spielberg, that's an infantile notion). As usual
the director seems afraid to make a smart movie through and through.
Okay, maybe "Minority Report" doesn’t rip off these
films as much as these films ripped off Phillip K Dick (I dont know how
faithful Scot Frank's adaptation is), but I was constantly aware of outside
sources being manipulated to fit into this vision of the film's futuristic
dystopia… a deliberately fashioned, sci-fi mystery in which Spielberg mixes
old school film techniques, new school style, and a whole lot of creepy
disappointment.
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Grade: C |
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The Bourne Identity
6/18/2002 |
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"The Bourne Identity" is a mindless and disassociated action film but one with a plot and a purpose, which, I suppose is better than one without purpose like "Bad Company" or about a million other failures about a sketchy government, a grip of piss poor shooters, and a running man. I guess the point is that there is variations of mindless; the good ones have a way of sedating you, seducing you and no matter how ridiculous they get (have the French police ever heard of using helicopters to chase their criminals?) you're still into that whole escapism movie thing instead an experience where you are painfully aware of time passing. I didn't really like this film but I didn't want it to end and that alone was worth the price of admission.
Matt Damon plays a, well, look at the plot synopsis above and that's
all we need to know. The film is so simple that it could (and will) be a
successful franchise. Yes we learn bits of this guys past along the way but
really, who cares, as long as he runs, gets caught, drives away in a small,
gay looking European car, shoots at his pursuers, ditches them and gets
caught again once he has a moment of rest with his faithful female companion
(stop using the cell phone dude!). The fugitive film is busy staple of
American B-cinema and one step better than that-- from a lazy writers
standpoint-- is the fugitive films where the fugitive has amnesia... this
enables the film to use a characters lack of depth as a pleasurable plot
point instead of something people like me bitch about. Damon doesn't
remember his past that's because the film never really bothered to write him
one; and I'm fine with that because this is not "Mulholland Drive." Saturday
night action flicks are judged under a different, more lenient standard.
The main reason I liked this film is because it does its job without
undermining it's audience. I never felt invigorated or blissful (as in
something campy like "Con Air") but I never felt irritated either. As
envisioned by Doug Liman, a man who directed one of the most charged and
emotionally glowing films of the last decade, "Go," (not to mention the cult
fav "Swingers") I was surprised that this film was so atypically distant. At
times it felt like I was watching a film that was directed by an amnesiac
who was told to do his best impression of an action movie. The result is a
film the goes through the motions and has many odd beats. For instance,
there's a love scene between Damon and Franka Potente (a little better here
than in the awful "Run Lola Run") that's as erotic as a haircut and the
two, when not on the run from equally laconic and slick CIA assassins (an
underused Clive Owen), spend far much time staring at each other, like a
couple of high school dorks who are magnets for that awkward silence in the
air (didn't I go to the movies to escape from that anxious silence?).
Anyways, Damon and Potente really have nothing in common and for that
matter, neither has much of a personality but I think that may be the point
here-- this is, after all, an action picture with a blank star character who
is running, in every way, on autopilot. Matt Damon is a subdued action
figure and luckily doesn't overdo (i.e. overact) his forgetful angst like
"Memento's" Lenny, he just sits and reacts when necessary. |
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Grade: B |
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Scooby-Doo 6/18/2002 |
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The writers of "Scooby-Doo" had absolutely no intention to rise above the
zero calorie mentality of the carton. Anyone saying that this
culture is deteriorating into a bunch of commercial watching automatons
obviously hasn't seen the original "Scooby-Doo" television show. Fact is
we've always been sheep like robots, except now we have trippy looking CGI
movies to zone-out to. That being said, the film version of "Scooby-Doo" is
hypnotically idiotic, and I mean that in a good way. I spent a hour plus
with a Todd MacCulloch expression of open-mouthed blankness. And like the
teens in this film who were tragically turned into zombies at the hands of
one of those evil Scooby-Doo schemers, I too lost my brain. The
difference is that I want it back! I think. On second thought, nah, they can
keep it. "Rockie & Bullwinkle,"
"George of the Jungle," "Josie and the Pussycats," ah, now those were kiddie
movies done right. Smart and socially aware pieces of metafiction that still
retained the precious air of emptiness from their cartoon counterparts,
only, in all three of those films, the shallowness was merely used as fodder
for the comments on a society gone numb. I suppose the great irony is that
neither "R&B" nor "Josie" were popular. Its seems that making fun of the
young audience is not the best way to get the young audience into the
theater. Those films were monumental failures in fact. So whose to blame
the guys behind "Scooby-Doo" for wanting to make a profit by giving the
brainy, Harvard trained writers of "Josie" a vacation? Here is a film that
forgoes the smart and socially aware commentary and cuts straight to the
vacuous part and the formula (that's what you get for hiring grade scholars
to write your picture). And you know what? On that basis, the film works. It also should be noted that the sexuality is
off the charts. Considering this is a PG film based on a cartoon I got a
kick out of what the MPAA finds family friendly, while a clean film like,
oh, say "Billy Elliot," is deemed by those fascists to be unsuitable and met
with an harsh R rating. Anyways, I was sitting through this "kids" movie--
again with my Todd MacCulloch gaze of infinite blankness-- and I almost got
a fricken erection... something wrong wid dat yo. A few minutes into
"Scooby-Doo" I was reminded of that MTV meat market of a show (the
"Spring Break" marathon that consists of shows where people standing around
doing nothing to music) as hordes of comely teens
with big busts were getting down like it was the last frat party of the
year. I thought Ebert was being a pedantically sexless prude when he said
that director Raja Gosnell's film was more akin to Russ Myers than Hanna/Barbera,
but he was right. Only, I don't think I'm going to hold that against the
picture as Roger did. I'll take it one step further and say that I quite
liked it... straight males across the land, just take a look at Isla Fisher
(aptly named Mary Jane) and tell me the skin is excessive? Well, okay, I
guess it still is but this seems to be the only sane way for adult males of
an average intellect to pass the time while young children
(confused as they may be when the once sturdy, intelligent and empowered
female figure, Velma, looses that confining orange sweater and glasses, dons
a low cut top that accentuates mucho cleavage, then proceeds to lets her
inner hoochie out for a quick "hello"), well, they can
laugh at the infantile fart jokes. Without the sex, "Scooby-Doo" would have
been "Jimmy Neutron Boy Genus." And while both films are going to damage the
mushy minds our nations precious precious youth, at least "Scooby-Doo" is
fun to look at. (When the DVD comes out, lets take tequila shots every time
we see a nice rack). "Here me now! I have seen the light, they have a consciousness, they have a life, they have a soul. Damn you! Let the rabbits wear glasses." -Tool |
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Grade: C+ |
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The Majestic 6/18/2002 |
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As
someone who thinks Frank Capra ("It’s a Wonderful Life") is the most
overrated director of all time, a retro happy film like “The Majestic”
should have freaked me out. After reading Peter Travers scathing review of
the film (he put it above
Jim Carrey stars as a blacklisted writer who gets amnesia after a car
accident and somehow ends up in a small, quaint little town where
masturbation haven’t even been invented yet—no wait, that was Pleasantvill.
Anyways, Carrey goes from being a B-movie writer (I enjoyed seeing the film
within a film that he wrote) to a complete bumpkin and to be honest, I wish
the film ditched all that pappy amnesia stuff, epically considering the fact
that films like “Memento” and “
"The Majestic" was photographed with warm and inviting colors (David
Tattersall), the music was fitting, the acting was traditional, it had some
nice production values... but the film is middle of the road all the way.
Certainly nothing as masterful as "The Shawshank Redemption" or even "Green
Mile." I certainly didn't hate it but I didn't remember it either. Carrey,
as an actor is someone we’d all prefer to stop trying to win that fucking
Oscar because his desperation is pathetic at this point. Sure he disserved
one for “Truman Show” but enough already, people are clearly not ready to
award an actor who talks out of his ass. Speaking of talking out of asses,
that’s kind of what watching the actors in is over long movie felt like. |
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Grade: B- |
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I Am Sam 6/16/2002 |
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don't have a problem with sentimental films about the mentally retarded. I
don't have a problem with any subject, in fact, as long as that said film
contains purpose and truth outside of the premise. For instance, "Rain Man"
was a film about an individual with autism but the film did not define
itself by its main character's disabilities. It was a film about characters
first, and their problems second. "I Am Sam" is one of the most shameful films ever made. Sure, the notion of a retarded man raising a child is something that could have worked but this film's sappy ending ditches any hope for an intelligent discussion. It is awful precisely because the people behind the film (director and writer Jessie Nelson) seem to have set out to make a "touching" film about a retarded individual then decided to fill in the blanks later--at least that what it felt like. This film contains phoniness of Titanic proportions and I did not buy one minute of it. There is a trial but why does the film treat Penn's case like it was the first degree murder trial of some celebrity? Penn plays a poor guy that works at Starbucks, and here we have all these high priced lawyers grandstanding in a slick looking courtroom. Welcome to Hollywood. As a father who somehow impregnated a homeless chick, raises a child, then, ten years later, gets busted by child services for being incapable of raising a young girl (where were they when he was breast feeding the poor kid), Sean Penn gives his worse performance ever (tied with the similar mentally deficient character Penn played in the equally awful 1997 film "Hugo Pool"). While Penn is usually an actor of great subtlety, he overdoes this character's retardossity (word invented here at paperstreetcinema.com) in a performance ventures into the satirical. This is Sean Penn as envisioned by Handyman. |
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Grade: F |
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The Others 6/9/2002 |
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Aint nothing like an effective horror movie. And what's better than that is
a effective horror movie with good actors. And what's better than that is an
effective horror movie with good actors with one of those actors being
Nicole Kidman. Too bad the only thing this film has going for it is the
Kidman part of the equation. I don't know if anybody remembers this, but
one of the best non monster horror type thrillers I've ever seen is a 1989
thriller called "Dead Calm." The film takes place on the ocean with Kidman
and Sam Nell as a couple taking a break from the harsh world while on their
boat. The tension involves a stranded drifter, Billy Zane, who goes crazy
and tries to kill the couple. The best thrillers seem to be the ones where
there's only so far its characters can run and that film was one for the
books, a true nail biter. Kidman plays a crazy, migrating magnet nutcase
of mom who is living, post war, in a huge house with her two equally fucked
up kids--they cant go out side or they will melt or something. One day the
mother hires a trio of scary lookin housekeepers and suddenly everything
turns to hell as the mother and kids and everybody else in the joint, are
visited by... I'll stop there because A) I was like, the last fucking person
in the world to have seen this film (I offer no excuse for this except
laziness and an intense tiredness with haunted house movies with British
people in period gowns) and B) haunted house movies require no elaborate
explanations. "There is something in this house. Something
diabolic. Something that is not at rest." Those lines have more meaning
after you see the film but I'm afraid the film, in general, is little too
late to be considered a horror classic or even a good movie. For, when the
mystery is unraveled, I had felt like I've been here before in better
movies, some that came out decades ago (to give away the ending by comparing
it to the films it blatantly stole from, I will say that "Beatle juice,"
"Jacob's Ladder," and the recent "Sixth Sense" were worlds better than this
film). "The world of the dead gets mixed up with the
world of the living" the maid ominously says in a trailer friendly line
that's so blunt that it could be the films tagline. And again, this line
makes sense in a neat way and I could see how people really took to this
film, but its just not original. The film was directed by Alejandro Amenábar
and I like this guy. After his inventive "Open Your Eyes" he did this
popular film and on these two alone, I think Amenábar will be working for a
long while. I have a feeling that, like David Lynch, even when he fucks up
his films will be worth seeing. The director obviously puts a lot into his
films and I'm glad he's going to be doing big budget movies because he
doesn't think like a big budget director, just a good storyteller (and
"Mommy. When's Daddy coming home?" the sad
child asks about their father who has been "lost" to the war efforts. Mom
says with a sullen look, "When the war's over." Could this film be seen as
an allegory for the inhuman atrocities of WWII that none of us--even today--
can face head on? Sure. There are a dozen mentions of ze Germans and various
other war related things and I dug the notion that this was a historical
minded horror film, based in a grim reality yet closed off from the world at
the same time. The characters can't face the truth and neither can those
watching this film in the real world. |
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Grade: B- |
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Rollerball 6/13/2002 |
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don’t hate Chris Kline because he’s stupid (the guy cant help that), no, I
hate him because he could be doing films like “Election” (where he is
playing a dumb ass) but instead doing films like “Rollerball” and “Say It
Isn’t So” (where he’s playing someone who knows the score). And I suppose an
adventure as mindless and vapid as “Rollerball” is as good as any to
showcase this so-called actor’s so-called skills, but this guy really needs
to consider not being the star.
This update of an already awful film throws
plenty at us but has no style, and that's surprising considering that John
McTiernan put his name on the finished product. Unlike Kline, this is a
smart figure that should have known better. If you recall, McTiernan
directed the classic “Die Hard” films (part one and three) and the A+ “The
Hunt for Red October.” Not to mention one of the coolest films ever made,
“Predator” and one of the most underrated comedies ever, "Last Action Hero."
So when I see the guys name on a product I feel I owe it to him to at least
give a look-see. After this film I don’t owe him anything. “Rollerball” is about a futuristic hockey like
extreme sport player who is a big star within a corrupt sport. This sport
called roller ball is located in an even more corrupt (and imaginary)
country which I think had the same name as those guys from "Rockey And
Bullwinkle." Besides being confusing even to the on screen players the games
is a mess. Players on motorcycles and roller blades compete in a dumb
looking twisting half-pipe of an arena and when the execution of this game
was not confusing me it was just plain boring me. Shots don’t last long
enough for us to appreciate the sport because I don’t think it was realized
enough to allow for that. The game is as tedious as its players; a Russian
accented tough girl, Rebecca Romain Stamos, who should henceforth never be
allowed to do films, modeling or if I had my way even going outside (how are
people attracted to this glorified looking soccer mom?); and then there's
the bland, wise cracking buddy figure LL Cool J (who has a name so prosaic
and eighties that I want to wretch). There are about two dozen other teem
players ranging from the scowling bad guy to the scapegoat who dies but none
of them much matter. Truth be told, a game of Quiddich from that “Harry
Potter” film seems like Ultimate Fighting Championship in comparison. |
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Grade: D- |
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Monster's Ball 6/9/2002 |
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Like the beautiful
Terrence Malick inspired "George Washington," "Monster's Ball" is a film
about visuals more than words. These images are enveloped in a quality of
sadness and splendor and while the material ventures into melodramatic
territory the actors handle it as real as possible by... and with as few
words as possible. If anything, the script is great because it doesn't try
to cram words into situations where no words are possible (i.e. the death of
a son). This is a love story, a story about the the death penalty, a story
about parenting, racism, healing, a story about death and a story about
people living with a loss by coming together. The actors, whoa boy, this is a good cast. Heath Ledger finally won me over as the "weak" son of an austere corrections officer. This kid doesn't have much to say but the acting in his facial expressions alone tell their own story and fill in their own complex character. Peter Boyil great as always, is the correction officer's bigot of a father, and I liked how this guy was always in the background, belittling his son and grandson with just harsh looks--this character represents a lineage of family hatred far better than any "American History X." But the heart of the film belongs to the main couple, Leticia and Hank, played by Halle Berry (the first disserving best actress winner since Frances McDormand won for "Fargo") and Billy Bob Thornton. What's so great about these two is that they come together in a way that almost implies destiny. Billy Bob was the officer that helped put Berry's husband in the electric chair and Thornton's son basically killed himself after the guilt of that incident and, no doubt, a long line of abuse that seems generational. After his son's death, Thornton goes from mean to soft in a way that I cant quite explain but this does not hurt the believability of the film because nothing else is spelled out either. Hank meets up with Leticia before he knows who she is and a love sparks before he realized the connection. The dramatic irony gives the film some much needed fuel but I'm now sure how necessary it was. I would have preferred neither knowing the truth, but again, none of this hurts the film. As directed by Marc Forster and written by Milo Addica and Will Rokos, "Monster's Ball" is the kind of film that touched me deeply. I was both chocking back tears and admiring the beautiful cinematography and mise en scene. This subtle film had me every step of the way and it's elusive no-words ending will remain with me for a long time. Leticia was betrayed by Hank but I truly believed she loved him in those last frames; she was not just staying out of desperation and I swear I could see a smile on her face as she was fed the chocolate ice cream (oh yeah, and the is no shortage of symbolism). Beauty and horror, sex and filth, love and hate, "Monster's Ball" has everything except a musical number. Where's Lars Von Trier when you need him. |
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Grade: A |
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Bad
Company6/7/2002 What’s Good: So bad that upon seeing the film I actually thought: “gee, maybe I should have seen “Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood” instead.” The moment past though. What’s Not: I can’t say I’m shocked that Jerry Bruckheimer sacrificed quality for the quick fix of 5% higher first week sales return. This film will not make money after the first weekend when people figure out they’ve been duped. Like “Down to Earth,” I never want to see another clean Chris Rock film. Also Try: Bait and Directed by: Joel Schumacher IMDb Plot: When a Harvard-educated CIA agent is killed during an operation, the secret agency recruits his twin brother (Chris Rock). |
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You got Anthony Hopkins in your movie, congratulations, now what are
the chances of fucking it up—according to my count, in the last eighteen
years only two have royally sucked. I even liked that monkey man movie he
did called "Instinct." So who can we blame for this rare situation? While I
would be the first to fault the soulless Bruckheimer, I can’t because he’s
just selling the bad drugs, he didn’t make the shit. Joel Schumacher did, in
a career low that that trumps even, gulp, “Batman and “Robin.”
Sure, having Hopkins deliver the priceless
line like “get in the car BITCH!” in only a cadence Hopkins could (think a
gentle Hannibal meets his character from “Meet Joe Black”) is cool and all
but it remains an empty statement for the man he’s saying this to (a
lackadaisically muted, “fuck” free and family-friendly Christopher Rock)
isn’t listening and doesn’t seem to care much anyways. That’s not to say
that
Bottom line is that the film should have showcased a more edgy Rock as “Nurse Betty” did a few years back. As is, Rock is left impotent, he since he can’t vent in that finger pointing angst we love him for, this renders him with a baffled look of comic apprehension that I haven’t seen an actor pull off this well since “Patch Adams.” But alas, this is a Jerry Bruckheimer produced film, and this means it is a film intended to be as popular as possible in the first week (hence the teen friendly PG-13), maybe make a little more scratch on video and cable but that’s about it. I hope the producer learns something from his only great film, "Black Hawk Down." While both that film and "Bad Company" will still be around a decade from now, the only difference is that we'll be watching "Black Hawk" and using "Bad Company" as DVD beer coaster. |
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Grade: D |
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Supplementary Rant (Joel Schumacher ) Joel’s usual flamboyance is present but can't
take off thanks to a down right mundane script. Sure, I rag on the guy for
ruining the nipple popping “Batman” franchise, but that was his only big
misstep as a director. That is until this kinetic dud came out. From the
inventive “Tigerland” to the bittersweet “Flawless” to the brilliantly
abrasive society piece “Falling Down,” Joel Schumacher has a flair for the
memorable. His films usually stay with you even if you don’t like them (the
underrated “8mm” and “Flatliners” are some of the most haunting films I’ve
ever seen). So why do a film like this that is so obviously beneath his
talents? My guess is that the guy needed to go with a “safe bet” after a box
office drought that’s been lingering since 1996’s “A Time to Kill.” Perhaps
some money in this selling out venture can enable the man (and Hopkins and
even Rock) to get back to being taking daring projects.
The mistaken identity material is routine (even the sub par Jamie Fox film, “Bait,” had a better execution) as Rock pretends to be his dead, CIA trained twin brother in order to save a black-market nuclear bomb from being released by a grip crazy Check’s (lead by the always cool Peter Stodimer, no doubt a carry over from Schumacher’s far better thriller, “8mm”). Action scenes like a chase after that ubiquitous brief case through a corn field have never seemed more desperate and unfulfilling. Even after “Ronin” I was done with that shit. Oh, and if your not sick of purposeless car chases, how about that age old scene where a bomb must be diffused as the digital clock runs down to single digits seconds. (I’m excusing “Fight Club” for having a scene like that because at least the bomb went off there). If overuses set pieces like car chases, ticking nukes, escaping the bad guy by sliding down the laundry and about a dozen more are still is able to excite you, then “Bad Company” may be the film to see this weekend. |
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The Sum of all Fears6/2/2002 |
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“There are Russian nuclear scientist missing and
I need to know where they are!” The great
Morgan Freeman (getting his yearly paycheck here to pay for real films like
“Nurse Betty") said that in a declaratory Clancy inspired lines that wore
think after “Patriot Games” and lines like that are in full, hand handed
force in this, the fourth film in the Ryan quartet. Or how about this for
innovative: seems as though every film or story that involves the CIA or
military (“The Siege” the fourth season of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” etc)
contains that scene where a bunch of really important people are hanging
around and --gasp!!!-- everybody’s cell phones and beepers go off. AT THE
SAME TIME!!! Something is up bro, something big. Come on, that shit is as
tired as Austin Powers saying “yeah baby” yet these government thrillers
refuse to evolve. Yeah I liked Ryan’s softness in this film and all the
other Clancy films, but does that mean the film has to be soft too?
As an astute analyst, Ryan may know all the answers
(even when he's guessing, what is he Ben Stine?), but this film is out to
say that he’s in over his head. Again. You see, throughout Ryan’s career
(even when he becomes president), tough military brass a-holes (Phillip
Baker Hall, Ron Rifkin… basically old guys over fifty) will dismissing his
youth and inexperience, and later in his life, his far fetched ideas. But
rest assured, Ryan WILL find a way get his imperative message across as-- in
this stories case-- two impetuous nations, Russia and America, are a
comprised by a bunch of childish hotheads just itching to waist each other
with their phallus nukes. Due your run of mill brand of Clancy
miscommunication... there seems to be a secret fascist Nazi fringe group
(changed from Arab in the book, but these days who is going to buy that, um,
cliché) that plans to, well, who gives a fuck, there evil nazis and we all
know how powerful this whole nazi thing has been in the 21st
century. Watch out, Derek Vinyard be busting caps. “Hitler wasn’t crazy, he
was stupid” the instigating big bad says as he puffs on a cigar and looks
malevolent in his nicely groomed beard.
“I am an analyst, I don’t go on missions,” Affleck
says for what I’m assuming is the first time. This is a prequel, right?
Regarding the film's time line; I’m remain a little bit confused… if this
film was set in modern times (the president character, James Cromwell,
mentions our last president, Clinton) then “The Hunt for Red October” must
be a decade in the future and “Patriot Games” even more so, right? Hum? So
setting aside this film’s modern political discourse and nifty new Bondian
technology and those older Ryan film’s with their antiquated and clunky cell
phones, why oh why did the unassuming Alec Baldwin act surprised when he
also had to “go on missions” as he hopped on that rogue Russian sub? And why
did the equally unassuming Ford act surprised when he had to go into
Columbia on more arduous, gun toting “mission?” So for the fifth Ryan film, I purpose this; a
genesis story set a high school where, after getting bitten by a radioactive
bureaucrat in training, Dawson... I mean Batman... I mean Spider Ma... no I
mean Jack Ryan suits up in his first Cosby sweater and tan khakis and writes
up one hell of a book report while trying desperately to convince his aloof
principal that the rival school, Shelbyville, is planning a brutal take
over. Oh, and he's got senior prom to worry about too.
It seems as though “Sum,” like Affleck persona,
contains as much tension as it does levity and while I found it to be more
of a frivolous action yarn than a serious “cautionary tale” (As Affleck said
on Charlie Rose) like "Fail Safe" was, it is a film that manages to work on
a rudimentary level. It doesn’t test the limits of the genre, but it didn't
bore me with its conventions either. I see now that I have lots of problems
with the film, enough to not recommend it ten times over, but none of them
occurred to me at the time of the screening. So what do I do? Its Sunday
right now, and an hour after seeing the film I sit down to write a positive
review yet a negative one came off of my fingers. That's a first.
In summation, I like Affleck, I like Freeman, I
like CIA themed movies ("Spy Games" was the bomb yo) and while I’ve only
read one of Clancy’s dehydrated techno babble dramas, I think the solution
to my confusion was summed up nicely when a friend told me: "Stop fucking
thinking, it’s an action movie."
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Grade:
B- |
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Metropolis 6/1/2002 |
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Technology, rubble,
dust, human rags… many shots depict all of these apocalyptic things tangled
together like the wires behind our home computers. Themes and values get
this same gloriously twisted treatment as notions of God—Man—Machine
resonate as well and as confusingly as any piece of cinema has. And sure the
film tends to sound simplistic and it is far from “Ghost in the Shell”
brainy with clunky dialogue like:
This is a visionary
film that’s as smart as any of its inspirations... 1920’s “Metropolis,”
“Matrix,” “Blade Runner,” “Escape from LA” or “A.I.” except this is no
careless P Diddy remix, this film acknowledge these classics and their
cultures and blends the story into this “Titus” like future where film noir
detective in their rain coats can be seen against the backdrop of a
futuristic city… and all of that with a Jazz score playing in the
background! This is the kind of film where anything is possible thanks, in
part, to the scope and cost effectiveness of animation (imagine this film
with real actors and sets… yikes). Besides this sense of liberating
animation, where also getting to a point where even the quality stories in
video games like “Deus Ex,” or “Grim Fandango” or “Final Fantasy 7” also
seems to be valid and fair game for this open minded film. The film, like
robots searching for spare parts as their fuel, incorporates just about
everything into its consciousness and it is sure to be one of my ten
favorite films of this year. The nature of self and identity in a cold mechanical future are rarely things covered in American cinema, let alone American animated films. Right now, at this time, anime from Japan are where the great stories are being told. Yet, for some reason the public can’t get behind fully entertaining animated films that are aimed at smart adults (If the R-rated "Matrix" fans only knew that film took from ones just like this movie this would have made 100 mill). "Critics" like Richard Roeper will say “I don’t like it… their eyes are too big” like that is something insightful as we continue to dismiss these films as something alien and weird but fail to see their depth. This film is cartooney, yes, but how many “cartoons” take on subjects where denial and greed runs supreme and robots think “I am a human, I know I am” and humans are equally lost in this quagmire; "humans are inferior creatures ruled by love and emotion.” Yes, we think we're special, but how much more special than a robot, or a monkey, or a white dove? The main robotic character of this piece (see IMDb plot) is so in denial about her digital existence that she possesses the ability to love too, or at least thinks she does. Or does she? There’s lots of room for discussion in this great film, and dismissing it because its unique looking and not for kids is just not fair. This is film noir meets though provoking end of the world sci-fi stuff and what could be better? Weighty biblical
illusions to the tower of babble and God’s wrath upon an arrogant man is the
central theme of this picture. In these cluttered modern times, this film
hints at what happens when scientific man steps into the role of God
himself? What happens when an electronic being (some sort of self aware bot
created for destruction by ravenous politicians) whose God or creator is a
flawed one, a human. And for that matter, what is to become of the machine
(i.e. babble) making “Gods” that also have their own maker to answer to?
Ideas like that cover just the tip of the iceberg, but this film is so
careful and spotless and beautiful that we get the rest of the rest of the
iceberg too. Right down to the very last ice crystal.
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Grade: A |
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Slackers6/1/2002 |
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Coming off a smart film about a slacker (“About
A Boy”) here comes a down right dumb one. Films like this give “Suburbia” a
bad name. It has one saving grace though. It’s dumb sure, but at least this
film isn’t dumb and unfunny. In fact, the only time the film doesn’t work
is when its trying to be a normal teen movie with normal teen romances, with
normal teen morals (cheating bad, love good J). As is, this is a tedious and
unfocused ploy to get more people into the theater and it doesn’t work and
it didn’t make any money. I say, forget what Ebert says and make with even
more nasty shit. Why not try top “Freddy Got Fingered?” Isn’t swallowing
elephant sperm where films are going anyways?
Devon Sawa can be funny in great films like “SLC
Punk!,” or serious and creped out in “Final Destination,” but here, as the
so-called protagonist he seems as lost and blank as an actor in the latest
"Star Wars" picture. Sawa's love interest is actress turned model James
King, and, well, she can’t act anyways (remember “ My main problem is that the film is now
consistent—for a teen movie, how about that? If “Slackers” had been reliably
vicious and mean I would have liked it, if it had been reliably romantic I
wouldn’t have liked it (the reason not being that I don’t like romance but
that I don’t like bad actors in teen romance movies) but at least I would
have respected its narrative goal. Say what you will about a Freddy Prinze
movie, at least they know what they are. Confident crap is better than
confused crap. So, in closing, it should be noted that this is far from a
laughless comedy like “Legally Blond,” “Dude, Where’s My Car?” “The Wedding
Planner,” or “The Animal” or… just about every comedy last year. "Slackers"
has about six hearty laughs and one oddly great scene with a singing dick,
sock puppet. Now that's funny.
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Grade: D+ |