The Prison Within is a powerful film, especially in these days of cancel culture - lock them up, and throw away the key! But wait a minute... many of the prisoner locked away for violent crimes are only a product of the home or society in which they were raised. These are human beings who, if they are given the opportunity, can feel remorse and can be rehabilitated. The Prison Within is aptly named, for a lot of these convicts punish themselves far worse than the justice system ever could. This documentary shows the power of compassion and forgiveness in a gripping way that stay with you.
Reviews
28 Reviews
Mind Rage
(1996)
A fun neo-noir throwback
7 September 2020
I bought this DVD (new director's cut on Amazon) because of Tippi Hedren - and she's great in her small but important role - and wound up really enjoying the whole thing. It's mysterious (my suspect list kept changing), gory at times (all practical effects) but not overly so, and I loved the music and cinematography (reminded me of a Brian De Palma movie). Definitely worth a look.
Incident at Guilt Ridge
(2020)
A fun western!
11 July 2020
It's nice to see indie filmmakers going west and doing something a little different from the usual "two people in a cafe" or "four people in an apartment" type thing. The locations are wonderful, the actors are fun, and I enjoyed the music score.
A far better than "fair" addition to the scary series!
21 March 2006
When a high school student finds herself kidnapped, spirited away to far-off place, and locked in the basement of old, defunct music academy with a suicidal young man and an evil demon, her troubles are just beginning.
Fair-Haired Child only has one recognizable name actor in it Lori Petty but the entire small cast is top-notch. Director William Malone does a good job in the one-hour format bringing together the threads of a story that span 15 years and culminate in a single night of unspeakable evil.
The attention to detail in Fair-Haired Child from the elegant décor of the stately mansion inside, to the bony wind chimes that gruesomely clink in the night outside is breathtaking, and the cinematography is sumptuous. The music, too, plays an important role.
The Masters of Horror anthology series has done a great job so far of not following a theme; while all of the episodes are horror, they're not zingers ala Twilight Zone, or morality yarns ala Tales From the Crypt. Malone's entry is more along the lines of a traditional supernatural horror story, and it's got some good scares and fun visuals. It's a far better than "fair" addition to the scary series!
Fair-Haired Child only has one recognizable name actor in it Lori Petty but the entire small cast is top-notch. Director William Malone does a good job in the one-hour format bringing together the threads of a story that span 15 years and culminate in a single night of unspeakable evil.
The attention to detail in Fair-Haired Child from the elegant décor of the stately mansion inside, to the bony wind chimes that gruesomely clink in the night outside is breathtaking, and the cinematography is sumptuous. The music, too, plays an important role.
The Masters of Horror anthology series has done a great job so far of not following a theme; while all of the episodes are horror, they're not zingers ala Twilight Zone, or morality yarns ala Tales From the Crypt. Malone's entry is more along the lines of a traditional supernatural horror story, and it's got some good scares and fun visuals. It's a far better than "fair" addition to the scary series!
Sharon's Baby
(1975)
Hilarious - should be a camp classic!
8 January 2004
How can you not love Joan Collins as the new mom of a baby boy possessed by the demonic spirit of a dancing dwarf? It's laugh out loud funny! I must add it to my collection of lovable, very bad horror movies. It's like Rosemary's Baby meets The Leprechaun.
The Cat's Meow
(2001)
More like a catnap...
15 April 2002
I already knew going in that Peter Bogdanovich is the director of The Cat's Meow, but what I didn't know was that it is based on a stage play. As far as I'm concerned, that combination is Unisom onscreen. Aside from most Shakespeare adaptations and a few exceptions, stage plays on film just don't work for me. And Bogdanovich's directing style has always been a bit too languid for my taste (Paper Moon and Mask being deviations) -- I much prefer him as a writer or as an actor.
However, I was encouraged by the subject matter. I love the Roaring Twenties era, and I am intrigued by the players in this real-life murder mystery. (Bogdanovich has expressly requested that film reviewers refrain from revealing the murder victim, but even if the rumored story wasn't already common knowledge, you pretty much know who's gonna get it from the git-go.) I was hoping for a sort of Agatha Christie meets Citizen Kane dynamic, but what I got was dropping eyelids.
The setting is 1924, aboard the original "King of All Media" William Randolph Hearst's yacht, the Oneida. Hearst (Edward Herrmann) and his mistress, silent screen star Marion Davies (Kirsten Dunst), are hosting a weekend getaway for their swanky friends.
The guests all arrive with their baggage, and their, er, baggage: Thomas Ince (Cary Elwes), a once-omnipotent film producer who has seen his fame and fortune wane in recent years, wants to merge with Hearst's empire; Louella "Lolly" Parsons (Jennifer Tilly), a start-up gossip columnist already working for a Hearst paper, wants to move digs from Gotham to Tinseltown; Charlie Chaplin (Eddie Izzard), the notorious womanizer, wants to steal the nubile beauty Marion from Hearst; and the jaded English novelist Elinor Gyn (Joanne Lumley) wants another drink.
There is plenty of fodder for naughty fun here -- lavish dinner parties, flashy costume balls, private film screenings, prohibition-snubbing libations, love, betrayal, and a murder -- but it's all just window-dressing. Bogdanovich does have an obvious appreciation for the era and a loving eye for detail, but in this case he's lost the forest for the trees. I might as well have been looking at a flip-picture book called The Cat's Meow.
While the dialogue is sharply witty in places, it is still stagy dialog. It sounds far too stilted coming from motion picture actor's mouths. One of my favorite actresses of all, Kirsten Dunst, fares the worst here; she actually looks and sounds uncomfortable speaking many of her lines. She is miscast as Davies to begin with, and she never can quite rise above that (Reese Witherspoon would have been purr-fect). One of her scenes early on in the film with Izzard on deck is almost painful to watch. And Izzard just doesn't bring "the Little Tramp" to life at all (it's almost impossible to follow Robert Downey Jr.'s Chaplin, though). Furthermore, I never bought Marion's attraction to him, which is absolutely essential to the plot.
Tilly plays Parsons for laughs (I didn't like the character as a klutzy blunderer), and Herrmann's Hearst is too much a fool for love (I never envisioned him as a powerful mogul). The only two major characters who escape this cinematic shipwreck unscathed are Lumley as the wise, jaded, and droll novelist, and Elwes as the desperate Ince.
The Cat's Meow is shot and directed in an unexpectedly pedestrian manner. Billed as a "thriller," it looks and feels less thrilling than a typical made-for-Lifetime movie. While (I hate to say it) Bogdanovich's best work may be behind him, he is still no slouch. Because he heard this story directly from Orson Welles (the two directors were very close friends) how exciting this movie could have been -- a cool little black comedy with an insider's cachet... but it's not. And lenser Bruno Delbonnel, who shot Amelie with such pizzazz, could have taken advantage of the challenge of shooting an entire film within the confines of cabins... but he didn't.
I hate to be so catty, as I do truly like all the talent involved, but it's a shame: The Cat's Meow could have been catnip -- as it is, it's just a catnap.
The premiere was more lively; check out my interviews with the cast.
However, I was encouraged by the subject matter. I love the Roaring Twenties era, and I am intrigued by the players in this real-life murder mystery. (Bogdanovich has expressly requested that film reviewers refrain from revealing the murder victim, but even if the rumored story wasn't already common knowledge, you pretty much know who's gonna get it from the git-go.) I was hoping for a sort of Agatha Christie meets Citizen Kane dynamic, but what I got was dropping eyelids.
The setting is 1924, aboard the original "King of All Media" William Randolph Hearst's yacht, the Oneida. Hearst (Edward Herrmann) and his mistress, silent screen star Marion Davies (Kirsten Dunst), are hosting a weekend getaway for their swanky friends.
The guests all arrive with their baggage, and their, er, baggage: Thomas Ince (Cary Elwes), a once-omnipotent film producer who has seen his fame and fortune wane in recent years, wants to merge with Hearst's empire; Louella "Lolly" Parsons (Jennifer Tilly), a start-up gossip columnist already working for a Hearst paper, wants to move digs from Gotham to Tinseltown; Charlie Chaplin (Eddie Izzard), the notorious womanizer, wants to steal the nubile beauty Marion from Hearst; and the jaded English novelist Elinor Gyn (Joanne Lumley) wants another drink.
There is plenty of fodder for naughty fun here -- lavish dinner parties, flashy costume balls, private film screenings, prohibition-snubbing libations, love, betrayal, and a murder -- but it's all just window-dressing. Bogdanovich does have an obvious appreciation for the era and a loving eye for detail, but in this case he's lost the forest for the trees. I might as well have been looking at a flip-picture book called The Cat's Meow.
While the dialogue is sharply witty in places, it is still stagy dialog. It sounds far too stilted coming from motion picture actor's mouths. One of my favorite actresses of all, Kirsten Dunst, fares the worst here; she actually looks and sounds uncomfortable speaking many of her lines. She is miscast as Davies to begin with, and she never can quite rise above that (Reese Witherspoon would have been purr-fect). One of her scenes early on in the film with Izzard on deck is almost painful to watch. And Izzard just doesn't bring "the Little Tramp" to life at all (it's almost impossible to follow Robert Downey Jr.'s Chaplin, though). Furthermore, I never bought Marion's attraction to him, which is absolutely essential to the plot.
Tilly plays Parsons for laughs (I didn't like the character as a klutzy blunderer), and Herrmann's Hearst is too much a fool for love (I never envisioned him as a powerful mogul). The only two major characters who escape this cinematic shipwreck unscathed are Lumley as the wise, jaded, and droll novelist, and Elwes as the desperate Ince.
The Cat's Meow is shot and directed in an unexpectedly pedestrian manner. Billed as a "thriller," it looks and feels less thrilling than a typical made-for-Lifetime movie. While (I hate to say it) Bogdanovich's best work may be behind him, he is still no slouch. Because he heard this story directly from Orson Welles (the two directors were very close friends) how exciting this movie could have been -- a cool little black comedy with an insider's cachet... but it's not. And lenser Bruno Delbonnel, who shot Amelie with such pizzazz, could have taken advantage of the challenge of shooting an entire film within the confines of cabins... but he didn't.
I hate to be so catty, as I do truly like all the talent involved, but it's a shame: The Cat's Meow could have been catnip -- as it is, it's just a catnap.
The premiere was more lively; check out my interviews with the cast.
Changing Lanes
(2002)
Meal on wheels...
15 April 2002
If you like your movie plots like Swiss cheese, you'll love Changing Lanes. Add some fun filler, and maybe you won't see the holes till later on, once you've already digested this meal on wheels.
The story starts its engine with a brief introduction to our protagonists, then revs up with a minor but nasty traffic accident in morning rush-hour traffic on New York's F.D.R. highway. Blueblood lawyer Gavin Banek (Affleck) and middle-class insurance agent Doyle Gipson (Jackson) are headed for the same courthouse. Both are late to their appointments.
All the problems to come could have been resolved had Gavin simply given Doyle a ride but, Gavin's mind is on Gavin and what Gavin needs to do. "Better luck next time," he shouts unfeelingly as he drives off, leaving Doyle stranded. If you can swallow this (an attorney leaving the scene of an accident after having done nothing but throw a blank check -- yes, a blank check! -- at the insurance agent), go ahead and enjoy the rest of the Swiss cheese snack.
Gavin makes it to the court on time, while Doyle does not. Each man suffers repercussions from the accident -- Gavin has lost an extremely important file (he left it behind after using it to write the check on), and Doyle has lost his visitation rights to his two children, because he wasn't there to speak in court. He tries to explain about the accident to the family court judge, but his pleas fall on callous ears. Now both men are desperate... Doyle wants his day in court back, and Gavin wants his file back. Rather than getting together (Gavin is a high-powered attorney, after all... doesn't he know anybody in the legal system who owes him a favor?) the two decide to punish each other for what happened.
Doyle withholds the precious file once he finds out Gavin needs it back (the two meet by chance on the street), and Gavin decides to make Doyle's life a living hell.
The thing I liked about Changing Lanes was that there was no clear cut "good guy" and "bad guy." Neither Gavin nor Doyle is entirely at ease with the chain reaction of revenge and one-uppances, but they continue to do it. Why? We're never told outright. But it seems Gavin is addicted to power, and Doyle is addicted to pandemonium, which is fueled by his alcoholism.
There is one scene in which his AA sponsor, disgusted with him after having to bail him out of jail, tells him, "You're addicted to chaos." The role of the sponsor is played by William Hurt and he is a fine actor, but imagine how much cooler the chaos speech would have been coming from Jeff Goldblum. (Note to casting directors: Think!)
The director and editor (Roger Michell and Christopher Tellefsen, respectively) have done a great job of switching back and forth between the two men as they act and react. The movie does veer over the top at times, but it's tempered with the occasional laugh. Since Michell is best known for his smash comedy, Notting Hill, it's not surprising that these few and far between moments actually have more honest impact than the drama of ethics.
Affleck is believable as the cocky yet conflicted attorney, and he is supported by a strong cast (Sydney Pollack as a hard-nosed attorney, and Dylan Baker as a gleeful computer hacker work well; Amanda Peet as his wife, and Toni Collette as his girlfriend are both underused). Kim Staunton as Mrs. Gipson is quite credible in her tired resignation, but the best thing about Changing Lanes is definitely Samuel L. Jackson. The worst? No famous Samuel L. Jackson speech.
Yes, the story is completely implausible and outrageous, but remember: truth is stranger than fiction. Just watch The History Channel or the Biography Channel and you'll quickly realize that. "Sometimes God likes to put two guys in a paper bag and let 'em rip," Gavin says in the movie (to a priest, no less). And sometimes, it's fun to watch the bag rustle.
The story starts its engine with a brief introduction to our protagonists, then revs up with a minor but nasty traffic accident in morning rush-hour traffic on New York's F.D.R. highway. Blueblood lawyer Gavin Banek (Affleck) and middle-class insurance agent Doyle Gipson (Jackson) are headed for the same courthouse. Both are late to their appointments.
All the problems to come could have been resolved had Gavin simply given Doyle a ride but, Gavin's mind is on Gavin and what Gavin needs to do. "Better luck next time," he shouts unfeelingly as he drives off, leaving Doyle stranded. If you can swallow this (an attorney leaving the scene of an accident after having done nothing but throw a blank check -- yes, a blank check! -- at the insurance agent), go ahead and enjoy the rest of the Swiss cheese snack.
Gavin makes it to the court on time, while Doyle does not. Each man suffers repercussions from the accident -- Gavin has lost an extremely important file (he left it behind after using it to write the check on), and Doyle has lost his visitation rights to his two children, because he wasn't there to speak in court. He tries to explain about the accident to the family court judge, but his pleas fall on callous ears. Now both men are desperate... Doyle wants his day in court back, and Gavin wants his file back. Rather than getting together (Gavin is a high-powered attorney, after all... doesn't he know anybody in the legal system who owes him a favor?) the two decide to punish each other for what happened.
Doyle withholds the precious file once he finds out Gavin needs it back (the two meet by chance on the street), and Gavin decides to make Doyle's life a living hell.
The thing I liked about Changing Lanes was that there was no clear cut "good guy" and "bad guy." Neither Gavin nor Doyle is entirely at ease with the chain reaction of revenge and one-uppances, but they continue to do it. Why? We're never told outright. But it seems Gavin is addicted to power, and Doyle is addicted to pandemonium, which is fueled by his alcoholism.
There is one scene in which his AA sponsor, disgusted with him after having to bail him out of jail, tells him, "You're addicted to chaos." The role of the sponsor is played by William Hurt and he is a fine actor, but imagine how much cooler the chaos speech would have been coming from Jeff Goldblum. (Note to casting directors: Think!)
The director and editor (Roger Michell and Christopher Tellefsen, respectively) have done a great job of switching back and forth between the two men as they act and react. The movie does veer over the top at times, but it's tempered with the occasional laugh. Since Michell is best known for his smash comedy, Notting Hill, it's not surprising that these few and far between moments actually have more honest impact than the drama of ethics.
Affleck is believable as the cocky yet conflicted attorney, and he is supported by a strong cast (Sydney Pollack as a hard-nosed attorney, and Dylan Baker as a gleeful computer hacker work well; Amanda Peet as his wife, and Toni Collette as his girlfriend are both underused). Kim Staunton as Mrs. Gipson is quite credible in her tired resignation, but the best thing about Changing Lanes is definitely Samuel L. Jackson. The worst? No famous Samuel L. Jackson speech.
Yes, the story is completely implausible and outrageous, but remember: truth is stranger than fiction. Just watch The History Channel or the Biography Channel and you'll quickly realize that. "Sometimes God likes to put two guys in a paper bag and let 'em rip," Gavin says in the movie (to a priest, no less). And sometimes, it's fun to watch the bag rustle.
Death to Smoochy
(2002)
Near-Fatal
29 March 2002
Have you ever fantasized about strangling Barney? Ever wanted to pull a rock star thing and throw the Teletubbies out of a high-rise hotel window? Are you plotting Mr. Wizard's "unfortunate accident" with his next experiment? If that's how your mind works, then Death to Smoochy, the story of rivalrous child's television show hosts, is for you. As director and co-star Danny DeVito says, "We're always looking for movies to take our kids to. This is not that movie!" Deservedly rated R, Death to Smoochy is a very dark comedy riffing on a subject overripe for satire. Too bad it doesn't quite work. The irrepressible Robin Williams stars as Rainbow Randolph, the sunny, sparkly top-hatted host of a kiddie TV show, who isn't so perky when the cameras aren't rolling. While in a bar knocking back hard liquor, he gets caught in a bribery scandal and immediately gets the old heave-ho from his employer, Kidnet. The search is on to find a new, squeaky clean host, and when Randolph is replaced by Sheldon Mopes (Edward Norton), a scrupled simp whose character is a lovable fuchsia rhinoceros named Smoochy, he hits the skids, big time. Going on a major drinking binge and forced to move in with a midget bit-player from his old show, Randolph plots his revenge against the hapless, happy-go-lucky Sheldon. Catherine Keener plays Nora Wells, a hard-nosed network executive, and Danny DeVito is Burke, Smoochy's unscrupulous agent (complete with pencil moustache). Harvey Fierstein and Jon Stewart shine in supporting roles.
The concept is fantastic. The idea of agents and lawyers and plotting and throat-cutting in the seamy underbelly of the candy-coated world of children's television is hilarious. And the movie is mostly funny -- I just think it could have been better had Danny DeVito written the script, and someone like Woody Harrelson had been cast as the moralistic, naturalistic hippy-dippy Smoochy. Norton is one of my favorite actors of all time, but I do feel he was miscast as Smoochy. There's nothing wrong with a little typecasting now and then; in this case, going against type really didn't pan out. I did get chuckles out of Death to Smoochy, and there were a few laugh-out-loud detours (there's a scene in which Randolph bakes some rather interesting cookies for Smoochy, and another where he disguises himself as an accent-challenged limo driver), but it just didn't quite hit the target of excellence I expect from DeVito as a director.
The movie could have been a killer black comedy, but as it turns out Death to Smoochy is only near-fatal.
The concept is fantastic. The idea of agents and lawyers and plotting and throat-cutting in the seamy underbelly of the candy-coated world of children's television is hilarious. And the movie is mostly funny -- I just think it could have been better had Danny DeVito written the script, and someone like Woody Harrelson had been cast as the moralistic, naturalistic hippy-dippy Smoochy. Norton is one of my favorite actors of all time, but I do feel he was miscast as Smoochy. There's nothing wrong with a little typecasting now and then; in this case, going against type really didn't pan out. I did get chuckles out of Death to Smoochy, and there were a few laugh-out-loud detours (there's a scene in which Randolph bakes some rather interesting cookies for Smoochy, and another where he disguises himself as an accent-challenged limo driver), but it just didn't quite hit the target of excellence I expect from DeVito as a director.
The movie could have been a killer black comedy, but as it turns out Death to Smoochy is only near-fatal.
Queen of the Damned
(2002)
It's got *some* bite
22 February 2002
If the 1994 adaptation of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, Interview With the Vampire (IWTV) was Gothic, then the 2001 adaptation, Queen of the Damned (QOTD), is "goth." I read all the books years ago and I am a fan of the 1994 film, so I'm writing this review from that perspective. If you have no prior experience with The Chronicles, you might well be confused by QOTD. If you do have experience with The Chronicles, you might well be disappointed. I wasn't confused, nor was I entirely disappointed... so there's hope.
Here's a rundown on the movie's plot, in case you haven't read the books: Lestat de Lioncourt is a vampire who, after decades of hibernating, is awoken by modern rock music. It speaks to him, and makes him want to add his voice to humanity's song. He joins a rock band and leads them to super-stardom, which makes the vampires of the world very nervous. What if their secret gets out? Jessie Reeves, the youngest member of The Talamasca (an ancient academic order of scholars of the supernatural) and her mentor, David Talbot, read Lestat's journal from the 1700's, which explains (and shows us in a flashback), how the vampire Marius "made" Lestat. Lestat's journal also introduces us to Akasha, The Mother of All Vampires, and tells of how she sleeps, frozen in time. Jessie's aunt, Maharet, is (unbeknownst to Jessie) a vampire who is among those who wish to stop Lestat from telling the mortals about their kind. Jessie is drawn to Lestat and seeks him out. As it turns out, Lestat isn't the only music-lover... Akasha, hearing his song, wakes up and decides to make a hell on earth.
I think both movies pretty well capture the spirits of their respective books -- IWTV, seen through Louis's melancholy eyes, is introspective, pensive and darkly beautiful. QOTD, seen (mostly) through Lestat's hungry eyes, is rock 'n roll, rebellion, and destruction. The books are from different perspectives and are quite different from each other, so it's reasonable to expect that the movies will also diverge.
Much has been made of how many liberties director Michael Rymer and the screenwriters have taken. There are indeed quite a few: the story of The Twins is completely gone; Lestat is no longer the leonine blond golden boy; Louis is excised; Marius, not Magnus, creates Lestat, and so on. But remember, the director of the first film also took several liberties: Louis's younger brother is changed to a wife and child; Claudia is made about five years older; the wonderful Gabrielle character is gone; Lestat is not at the "vampire trial" that condemned Claudia, and so on. It is simply not possible to recreate such richly detailed books page by page, and each director must choose to focus on what about the story appeals to them and then bring that to life on the screen.
As a major fan of the first movie, I have to remind myself that the, er, stakes were really lowered for this version. There isn't an all-star cast, Anne Rice didn't write the screenplay, Michael Rymer isn't Neil Jordan, and Stan Winston didn't do the vampire makeup. Once you can look at it on that level, it's not bad. And certainly not as bad as it could have been... I heard Josh Hartnett was up for the role of Lestat. Thank goodness he was unable to accept it! He is so not Lestat.
Lestat, who comes second only to Count Dracula in the vampire popularity contest, is an extremely important role. A few years back, I heard that Wes Bentley had been cast. This was shortly after I saw American Beauty, and I thought, "Yes!" But then he dropped out, asserting that he was too tired to take on such a challenging role. He went on to make such tired, forgettable films as White River Kid, The Claim, and Soul Survivors. QOTD may not be a masterpiece, but it sure looks like one alongside any of those stinkers.
Heath Ledger was also taken into account as a possible Lestat, but he too had other projects lined up. The producer, Jorge Saralegui, has stated, "We considered just about every young actor, as you might imagine." What about Ryan Phillipe? He has the French-blonde-aristocratic physicality of Lestat, the sadistic playfulness (as seen in Cruel Intentions), and he's very handsome. While he has an interesting look, Townsend is not that handsome and while he does sometimes capture flashes of "The Brat Prince" persona, he does only a passable job. (He's probably better as Lestat than he would have been as Strider in Lord of the Rings -- his firing from that show freed him up to do QOTD.) Much better is the casting of Aaliyah as the title character, and Marguerite Moreau as Jessie, the Talamascan mortal who falls for Lestat.
Contrary to what the TV spots might lead you to believe, Aaliyah only has a minor role in the film. It's a pivotal role, but quite small. She was only given one dimension to work with (ancient evil), but boy, did she work it. She plays it up with heart-eating relish, flashing her preternaturally green eyes, smiling with bloody fangs, and undulating in a skimpy costume topped by an elaborate Egyptian-style headdress. I wasn't especially impressed with Aaliyah in her first film (Romeo Must Die), and I always thought she looked too sweet in her music videos to be able to play "the mother of all vampires." But she does it, and she does it well. I liked the effects used for her voice (and her brother's voice -- he did some posthumous looping for her), and I thought the ancient Egyptian accent was cool. (Was it accurate? I don't know... it's no worse than the characters in Stephen Sommers' Mummy films. I bought it.) Akasha is gorgeous, regal and a "royal pain" just like she was in the book, and Aaliyah, with great screen presence, obviously had a lot of fun playing her.
People who have not read the book will have lots of questions about Akasha. Where did she come from? How did she become the first vampire? Why does she start out as a marble statue? Why was Marius taking care of her? Why does she want to destroy the world?
The other characters, richly realized in the book, now relegated to minor roles, will also beg more questions than they answer. In QOTD, there is no "dark gift" lovingly bestowed by Lestat, no "savage garden" world of vampires. Lena Olin, who plays Maharet (her twin, Mekare, is not mentioned in the movie) is a vampire who had a daughter before she was transformed. Maharet has spent her eternity looking after her ancestors, especially her granddaughters (Jessie is really not her "niece," but a direct descendent). Armand, Mael, Pandora, and Khayman are all in the movie but they serve as nothing more than window-dressing. They have no dialog even, but at least they're better off than Louis -- he was completely cut from the story. The Marius and Talbot characters are greatly altered, but that didn't bother me too much. Paul McGann as a younged-down Talbot is as good as he can be given what he had to work with, and Vincent Perez made for a believable enough creature of the night. He's a bit of a fuddy-duddy, but he was like that in the book too (remember, this is from Lestat's perspective; Marius is trying to keep him from his fun).
Some of the dialog, and some of the humor, from the books is retained. Lestat, remarking on Marius's centuries-old taste in clothing, remarks, "How did you ever get through the 50s in red velvet?" And there's a part where Lestat says something to Jessie about not being very good at staying alive, and she shoots back, "We have that in common, don't we?"
The real star in QOTD is Marguerite Moreau as Jessie Reeves. Her beauty is, unfortunately, not treated with the same care as Aaliyah's was -- the DP, Ian Baker (The Chamber, Fierce Creatures) uses very flat, unflattering lighting most of the time. In fact, a skin color for the vampires could not seem to be decided
upon -- Lestat alone alternates between white, blue, tan and ruddy. His gothy makeup (lots of eyeshadow and lipstick) may rankle some, but I was okay with it. The person whose makeup and lighting was too neglected was certainly Moreau's -- she's a beautiful woman, but you don't see just how attractive she really is in the movie. She has some good costumes, though (I think we may be seeing her tight, push-up plaid school-girl inspired jumper on the racks this spring).
The music (written and performed by Jonathan Davis of KoRn) is pretty good and it does rock, but if Lestat has gone goth, I imagine his music would have been more Smashing Pumpkins like. The Pumpkins' music was very hard (Bullet with Butterfly Wings: "The world is a vampire..."), but lushly beautiful and melancholy (By Starlight) at the same time. The overall score doesn't have the same haunting quality as it did in IWTV, but the violin parts are quite good (that's another character I miss... Nicolas!).
The rock star worship bits are good fun, and Townsend mugs and prances with aplomb. The jaded journalists take it all in stride when Lestat announces at a press conference that he's the real deal (he looks less freakish than Alice Cooper, Kiss, or Marilyn Manson, after all). At the big Death Valley concert (a great location change from the original setting), gothy fans scream and stomp enthusiastically, unaware that they're watching not a theatrical concert but a battle to the death among the undead. Budgetary constraints probably came into play here, but I preferred how in the book, Lestat incorporated effigies of Akasha and totems of Ancient Egypt into his act. He's just a straight-ahead rocker with smoke machines in the movie.
The showdown at the end of the film takes pure artistic license, and is too pat. But, the filmmakers tried to pack too much into a too-short movie while at the same time taking out great chunks of the core story. Lestat the rock star, the vengeful Queen, the inquisitive Talamascans, the guardian Maharet, or any of the bits and pieces touched upon could have been beefed up. I think that once the rights drift back into the market, it should be made into a mini-series. It could even be a regular series, ala Dark Shadows. The Vampire Chronicles are very episodic anyway -- it's the perfect medium if you ask me.
And while you're asking me, don't ask why the film got an R-rating. I sure can't figure it out. There's no nudity, no overly repulsive gore (except when Akasha noshes on the heart of a vampire -- wet and bloody at first, it turns to dust as its owner perishes), and no profane language. "Queen of the Darned" would be more like it.
Unfortunately, there isn't any heat, R-rated or otherwise, between the characters. I still get tingles when I think of certain quietly erotic moments in IWTV, or the chemistry between Winona Ryder and Gary Oldman in Dracula, but there is none of that in QOTD. Not even when there should have been -- the stage is set for a really sizzling love scene when Lestat and Akasha share a rose-petal soak (nose-thumb to Wes Bentley here?) together, but it's as tepid as their bathwater. Lestat also doesn't have much chemistry with Jessie, and the homoerotic subtext between him and Marius is left entirely to the imagination.
As vampire movies go, how does it stack up? Well, "they don't make them like they used to," says this nostalgic fan of Dracula (1931 and 1992), The Hunger, and Interview With the Vampire. But is it better than some of these recent offerings? From Dusk Till Dawn (yes), In the Shadow of the Vampire (maybe), John Carpenter's Vampires (yes), The Forsaken (yes), Wes Craven's Dracula 2000 (yes), and Blade (no). As a vampire flick for us thirsty fans, at least it's based on Anne Rice and at least it's a cut above what we've been given lately. That's not saying it's a great film, but it works on some of levels and is certainly worth seeing at least once.
Here's a rundown on the movie's plot, in case you haven't read the books: Lestat de Lioncourt is a vampire who, after decades of hibernating, is awoken by modern rock music. It speaks to him, and makes him want to add his voice to humanity's song. He joins a rock band and leads them to super-stardom, which makes the vampires of the world very nervous. What if their secret gets out? Jessie Reeves, the youngest member of The Talamasca (an ancient academic order of scholars of the supernatural) and her mentor, David Talbot, read Lestat's journal from the 1700's, which explains (and shows us in a flashback), how the vampire Marius "made" Lestat. Lestat's journal also introduces us to Akasha, The Mother of All Vampires, and tells of how she sleeps, frozen in time. Jessie's aunt, Maharet, is (unbeknownst to Jessie) a vampire who is among those who wish to stop Lestat from telling the mortals about their kind. Jessie is drawn to Lestat and seeks him out. As it turns out, Lestat isn't the only music-lover... Akasha, hearing his song, wakes up and decides to make a hell on earth.
I think both movies pretty well capture the spirits of their respective books -- IWTV, seen through Louis's melancholy eyes, is introspective, pensive and darkly beautiful. QOTD, seen (mostly) through Lestat's hungry eyes, is rock 'n roll, rebellion, and destruction. The books are from different perspectives and are quite different from each other, so it's reasonable to expect that the movies will also diverge.
Much has been made of how many liberties director Michael Rymer and the screenwriters have taken. There are indeed quite a few: the story of The Twins is completely gone; Lestat is no longer the leonine blond golden boy; Louis is excised; Marius, not Magnus, creates Lestat, and so on. But remember, the director of the first film also took several liberties: Louis's younger brother is changed to a wife and child; Claudia is made about five years older; the wonderful Gabrielle character is gone; Lestat is not at the "vampire trial" that condemned Claudia, and so on. It is simply not possible to recreate such richly detailed books page by page, and each director must choose to focus on what about the story appeals to them and then bring that to life on the screen.
As a major fan of the first movie, I have to remind myself that the, er, stakes were really lowered for this version. There isn't an all-star cast, Anne Rice didn't write the screenplay, Michael Rymer isn't Neil Jordan, and Stan Winston didn't do the vampire makeup. Once you can look at it on that level, it's not bad. And certainly not as bad as it could have been... I heard Josh Hartnett was up for the role of Lestat. Thank goodness he was unable to accept it! He is so not Lestat.
Lestat, who comes second only to Count Dracula in the vampire popularity contest, is an extremely important role. A few years back, I heard that Wes Bentley had been cast. This was shortly after I saw American Beauty, and I thought, "Yes!" But then he dropped out, asserting that he was too tired to take on such a challenging role. He went on to make such tired, forgettable films as White River Kid, The Claim, and Soul Survivors. QOTD may not be a masterpiece, but it sure looks like one alongside any of those stinkers.
Heath Ledger was also taken into account as a possible Lestat, but he too had other projects lined up. The producer, Jorge Saralegui, has stated, "We considered just about every young actor, as you might imagine." What about Ryan Phillipe? He has the French-blonde-aristocratic physicality of Lestat, the sadistic playfulness (as seen in Cruel Intentions), and he's very handsome. While he has an interesting look, Townsend is not that handsome and while he does sometimes capture flashes of "The Brat Prince" persona, he does only a passable job. (He's probably better as Lestat than he would have been as Strider in Lord of the Rings -- his firing from that show freed him up to do QOTD.) Much better is the casting of Aaliyah as the title character, and Marguerite Moreau as Jessie, the Talamascan mortal who falls for Lestat.
Contrary to what the TV spots might lead you to believe, Aaliyah only has a minor role in the film. It's a pivotal role, but quite small. She was only given one dimension to work with (ancient evil), but boy, did she work it. She plays it up with heart-eating relish, flashing her preternaturally green eyes, smiling with bloody fangs, and undulating in a skimpy costume topped by an elaborate Egyptian-style headdress. I wasn't especially impressed with Aaliyah in her first film (Romeo Must Die), and I always thought she looked too sweet in her music videos to be able to play "the mother of all vampires." But she does it, and she does it well. I liked the effects used for her voice (and her brother's voice -- he did some posthumous looping for her), and I thought the ancient Egyptian accent was cool. (Was it accurate? I don't know... it's no worse than the characters in Stephen Sommers' Mummy films. I bought it.) Akasha is gorgeous, regal and a "royal pain" just like she was in the book, and Aaliyah, with great screen presence, obviously had a lot of fun playing her.
People who have not read the book will have lots of questions about Akasha. Where did she come from? How did she become the first vampire? Why does she start out as a marble statue? Why was Marius taking care of her? Why does she want to destroy the world?
The other characters, richly realized in the book, now relegated to minor roles, will also beg more questions than they answer. In QOTD, there is no "dark gift" lovingly bestowed by Lestat, no "savage garden" world of vampires. Lena Olin, who plays Maharet (her twin, Mekare, is not mentioned in the movie) is a vampire who had a daughter before she was transformed. Maharet has spent her eternity looking after her ancestors, especially her granddaughters (Jessie is really not her "niece," but a direct descendent). Armand, Mael, Pandora, and Khayman are all in the movie but they serve as nothing more than window-dressing. They have no dialog even, but at least they're better off than Louis -- he was completely cut from the story. The Marius and Talbot characters are greatly altered, but that didn't bother me too much. Paul McGann as a younged-down Talbot is as good as he can be given what he had to work with, and Vincent Perez made for a believable enough creature of the night. He's a bit of a fuddy-duddy, but he was like that in the book too (remember, this is from Lestat's perspective; Marius is trying to keep him from his fun).
Some of the dialog, and some of the humor, from the books is retained. Lestat, remarking on Marius's centuries-old taste in clothing, remarks, "How did you ever get through the 50s in red velvet?" And there's a part where Lestat says something to Jessie about not being very good at staying alive, and she shoots back, "We have that in common, don't we?"
The real star in QOTD is Marguerite Moreau as Jessie Reeves. Her beauty is, unfortunately, not treated with the same care as Aaliyah's was -- the DP, Ian Baker (The Chamber, Fierce Creatures) uses very flat, unflattering lighting most of the time. In fact, a skin color for the vampires could not seem to be decided
upon -- Lestat alone alternates between white, blue, tan and ruddy. His gothy makeup (lots of eyeshadow and lipstick) may rankle some, but I was okay with it. The person whose makeup and lighting was too neglected was certainly Moreau's -- she's a beautiful woman, but you don't see just how attractive she really is in the movie. She has some good costumes, though (I think we may be seeing her tight, push-up plaid school-girl inspired jumper on the racks this spring).
The music (written and performed by Jonathan Davis of KoRn) is pretty good and it does rock, but if Lestat has gone goth, I imagine his music would have been more Smashing Pumpkins like. The Pumpkins' music was very hard (Bullet with Butterfly Wings: "The world is a vampire..."), but lushly beautiful and melancholy (By Starlight) at the same time. The overall score doesn't have the same haunting quality as it did in IWTV, but the violin parts are quite good (that's another character I miss... Nicolas!).
The rock star worship bits are good fun, and Townsend mugs and prances with aplomb. The jaded journalists take it all in stride when Lestat announces at a press conference that he's the real deal (he looks less freakish than Alice Cooper, Kiss, or Marilyn Manson, after all). At the big Death Valley concert (a great location change from the original setting), gothy fans scream and stomp enthusiastically, unaware that they're watching not a theatrical concert but a battle to the death among the undead. Budgetary constraints probably came into play here, but I preferred how in the book, Lestat incorporated effigies of Akasha and totems of Ancient Egypt into his act. He's just a straight-ahead rocker with smoke machines in the movie.
The showdown at the end of the film takes pure artistic license, and is too pat. But, the filmmakers tried to pack too much into a too-short movie while at the same time taking out great chunks of the core story. Lestat the rock star, the vengeful Queen, the inquisitive Talamascans, the guardian Maharet, or any of the bits and pieces touched upon could have been beefed up. I think that once the rights drift back into the market, it should be made into a mini-series. It could even be a regular series, ala Dark Shadows. The Vampire Chronicles are very episodic anyway -- it's the perfect medium if you ask me.
And while you're asking me, don't ask why the film got an R-rating. I sure can't figure it out. There's no nudity, no overly repulsive gore (except when Akasha noshes on the heart of a vampire -- wet and bloody at first, it turns to dust as its owner perishes), and no profane language. "Queen of the Darned" would be more like it.
Unfortunately, there isn't any heat, R-rated or otherwise, between the characters. I still get tingles when I think of certain quietly erotic moments in IWTV, or the chemistry between Winona Ryder and Gary Oldman in Dracula, but there is none of that in QOTD. Not even when there should have been -- the stage is set for a really sizzling love scene when Lestat and Akasha share a rose-petal soak (nose-thumb to Wes Bentley here?) together, but it's as tepid as their bathwater. Lestat also doesn't have much chemistry with Jessie, and the homoerotic subtext between him and Marius is left entirely to the imagination.
As vampire movies go, how does it stack up? Well, "they don't make them like they used to," says this nostalgic fan of Dracula (1931 and 1992), The Hunger, and Interview With the Vampire. But is it better than some of these recent offerings? From Dusk Till Dawn (yes), In the Shadow of the Vampire (maybe), John Carpenter's Vampires (yes), The Forsaken (yes), Wes Craven's Dracula 2000 (yes), and Blade (no). As a vampire flick for us thirsty fans, at least it's based on Anne Rice and at least it's a cut above what we've been given lately. That's not saying it's a great film, but it works on some of levels and is certainly worth seeing at least once.
K-PAX
(2001)
K-PAX is a worthwhile trip
26 October 2001
Out of all the things this film is being billed as -- drama, science
fiction, fantasy and comedy -- I'll pick drama. It had a little less of
the elements of those other genres I was hoping for, and while
K-PAX didn't meet my expectations (or preconceived notions, if you
will; never a good thing to walk into a movie theatre with), it
succeeds in being a satisfying, thought-provoking experience.
After an altercation at New York's Grand Central Station, Prot
(Kevin Spacey, "Pay it Forward"), a serene, gentle man who calmly
explains that he is here visiting from the planet K-PAX, is taken to a
Manhattan mental hospital and put under the supervision of Dr.
Mark Powell (Jeff Bridges, "The Contender"), a soft-spoken,
easygoing psychiatrist. When even heavy medication fails to
reverse Prot's insistence that he is visiting from another galaxy,
Powell becomes very interested in his patient, who not only seems
to have a calming effect on the other residents of the ward, he also
has an uncanny knowledge of astrophysics. His identity is a
complete mystery, which further intrigues the doctor. When Prot
announces he's going home at the end of July and he can take
one person along with him, the patients all vie to be chosen. As
the days before Prot's planned departure from earth go by, Dr.
Powell struggles with a dilemma -- will Prot really beam up in an
otherwordly fashion, never to be seen again, or will he have a
complete mental breakdown, harming himself or others?
Personally, I found the look of the film a bit dark and dreary. It really
didn't fit in with the story, at least not at first (K-PAX does take a
dark turn down the line). However, Prot wears sunglasses at
almost all times, because he cannot stand ultraviolet light; so
perhaps the cinematographer was trying to help the audience see
through his eyes. I'll buy it if that's the case, but I can't think of an
argument for the irritating, often obtrusive musical score.
Director Iain Softley ("The Wings of the Dove") takes it slow -- too
slow at times. Aside from the two main characters, the rest of the
cast might as well have been cardboard cutouts. The roles that
went to talented ladies such as Mary McCormack, Conchata Ferrel
and Alfre Woodard could have been played by just about anyone.
My only guess is that their meatier performances ended up on the
cutting room floor. For a movie that is already overly long even with
all the fat cut, this is understandable.
If you are willing to sit for two hours and focus on two excellent
actors exploring some interesting concepts and questions (mostly
via dialog in the doctor's office), then K-PAX is a worthwhile trip.
Otherwise, you might want to wait and watch it in the comfort of
your own home (on whichever planet that may be).
fiction, fantasy and comedy -- I'll pick drama. It had a little less of
the elements of those other genres I was hoping for, and while
K-PAX didn't meet my expectations (or preconceived notions, if you
will; never a good thing to walk into a movie theatre with), it
succeeds in being a satisfying, thought-provoking experience.
After an altercation at New York's Grand Central Station, Prot
(Kevin Spacey, "Pay it Forward"), a serene, gentle man who calmly
explains that he is here visiting from the planet K-PAX, is taken to a
Manhattan mental hospital and put under the supervision of Dr.
Mark Powell (Jeff Bridges, "The Contender"), a soft-spoken,
easygoing psychiatrist. When even heavy medication fails to
reverse Prot's insistence that he is visiting from another galaxy,
Powell becomes very interested in his patient, who not only seems
to have a calming effect on the other residents of the ward, he also
has an uncanny knowledge of astrophysics. His identity is a
complete mystery, which further intrigues the doctor. When Prot
announces he's going home at the end of July and he can take
one person along with him, the patients all vie to be chosen. As
the days before Prot's planned departure from earth go by, Dr.
Powell struggles with a dilemma -- will Prot really beam up in an
otherwordly fashion, never to be seen again, or will he have a
complete mental breakdown, harming himself or others?
Personally, I found the look of the film a bit dark and dreary. It really
didn't fit in with the story, at least not at first (K-PAX does take a
dark turn down the line). However, Prot wears sunglasses at
almost all times, because he cannot stand ultraviolet light; so
perhaps the cinematographer was trying to help the audience see
through his eyes. I'll buy it if that's the case, but I can't think of an
argument for the irritating, often obtrusive musical score.
Director Iain Softley ("The Wings of the Dove") takes it slow -- too
slow at times. Aside from the two main characters, the rest of the
cast might as well have been cardboard cutouts. The roles that
went to talented ladies such as Mary McCormack, Conchata Ferrel
and Alfre Woodard could have been played by just about anyone.
My only guess is that their meatier performances ended up on the
cutting room floor. For a movie that is already overly long even with
all the fat cut, this is understandable.
If you are willing to sit for two hours and focus on two excellent
actors exploring some interesting concepts and questions (mostly
via dialog in the doctor's office), then K-PAX is a worthwhile trip.
Otherwise, you might want to wait and watch it in the comfort of
your own home (on whichever planet that may be).
The Last Castle
(2001)
Cliches OK
26 October 2001
Start with prison and the military: two of my least-favorite subjects.
Add Rod Lurie: the heavy-handed director of last year's preachy
critics' darling, The Contender. Mix those three elements together,
along with two actors predictably cast in opposing roles (James
Gandolfini, bad; Robert Redford, good) and what have you got?
A very good movie, actually. I was so pleasantly surprised by The
Last Castle, I'll gladly watch it again.
Redford ("The Horse Whisperer") portrays three-star General Irwin,
a renowned army tactician who has been court-martialed, stripped
of his rank, and sentenced to a maximum security military prison
run with unwavering cruelty by its warden, Colonel Winter (James
Gandolfini, "The Mexican"). At first Winter is in awe of the legendary
General Irwin, but that respect melts into white-hot hostility as Irwin
boldly confronts the warden on his archaic ways. Their
confrontation escalates into war when the general organizes his
fellow inmates into an army.
The progression of how this all comes about is very well done,
and Redford and Gandolfini, though perhaps typecast, are nothing
short of fantastic in their roles. Don't be surprised if you hear both
of their names announced come Oscar-time. The supporting cast
is superb as well: from Winter's right-hand man (Steve Burton,
shucking his pretty-boy soap opera persona) to Mark Rufallo as an
embittered drug-running helicopter pilot.
I'm not saying this movie isn't cliched -- in fact, it's riddled with
them: Every single downtrodden prisoner is a sympathetic
character. There's the retarded man-boy who is severely abused.
There's the guy who seems bad but turns out good. The helicopter
pilot's skills come in handy. And more. But it doesn't really matter --
this movie is spirited and slightly patriotic, which is the perfect elixir
for the American public in these troubled times. Not overly so, but it
will make you feel good at the end and there's nothing wrong with
that.
Add Rod Lurie: the heavy-handed director of last year's preachy
critics' darling, The Contender. Mix those three elements together,
along with two actors predictably cast in opposing roles (James
Gandolfini, bad; Robert Redford, good) and what have you got?
A very good movie, actually. I was so pleasantly surprised by The
Last Castle, I'll gladly watch it again.
Redford ("The Horse Whisperer") portrays three-star General Irwin,
a renowned army tactician who has been court-martialed, stripped
of his rank, and sentenced to a maximum security military prison
run with unwavering cruelty by its warden, Colonel Winter (James
Gandolfini, "The Mexican"). At first Winter is in awe of the legendary
General Irwin, but that respect melts into white-hot hostility as Irwin
boldly confronts the warden on his archaic ways. Their
confrontation escalates into war when the general organizes his
fellow inmates into an army.
The progression of how this all comes about is very well done,
and Redford and Gandolfini, though perhaps typecast, are nothing
short of fantastic in their roles. Don't be surprised if you hear both
of their names announced come Oscar-time. The supporting cast
is superb as well: from Winter's right-hand man (Steve Burton,
shucking his pretty-boy soap opera persona) to Mark Rufallo as an
embittered drug-running helicopter pilot.
I'm not saying this movie isn't cliched -- in fact, it's riddled with
them: Every single downtrodden prisoner is a sympathetic
character. There's the retarded man-boy who is severely abused.
There's the guy who seems bad but turns out good. The helicopter
pilot's skills come in handy. And more. But it doesn't really matter --
this movie is spirited and slightly patriotic, which is the perfect elixir
for the American public in these troubled times. Not overly so, but it
will make you feel good at the end and there's nothing wrong with
that.
Donnie Darko
(2001)
Donnie Darko is derivative
26 October 2001
Donnie Darko is
what? That's what the filmmakers want people
to be asking each other. An air of mystery surrounds the ad
campaign. Is Donnie Darko a troubled high school boy? Is he the
demonic, shadowy character depicted on the poster? Is he a hero,
or a loser?
Elements of all those things are in Donnie Darko, who is
personified by Jake Gyllenhall ("October Sky"). Gyllenhall is the
real standout here, managing to portray this difficult, mostly
unlikable character with commendable depth.
And "depth" is what this movie thinks it's all about. What lies
beneath the veneer of American suburbia? Donnie is in psychotherapy, and even though he takes medication he still has
disturbing hallucinations involving "Frank", a big bunny-man who
looks like a cross between Harvey, the Jackalope, and Satan, and
who tells him the world will end in 28 days. Donnie's lackluster
new girlfriend, Gretchen (Jena Malone, "Stepmom"), is living under
some sort of witness protection program ("Gretchen" is not her
real name), hiding from her psychotic dad, who stabbed her mom
four times in the chest. Donnie's clean-cut science teacher, Dr.
Monnitoff (Noah Wylie, "A Few Good Men"), secretly believes in
time travel, and the possibility of such via random wormholes. Jim
Cunningham (Patrick Swayze, "The Green Dragon") is a freakishly
loving, kindly, and understanding self-help guru, whose fancy
mansion seems very out of place in the small, middleclass town.
There are lots of interesting characters (and some not so
interesting due to underdevelopment) and the plot does raise
some thought-provoking questions. Too bad it answers them far
too quickly. I saw the ending, which I imagine was supposed to
have major impact, coming almost right from the beginning (one
line of dialog could have been deleted to prevent this). I told myself
that maybe it didn't matter, since this film is obviously intended for
teenagers. But that's not fair; "talking down" to an audience is
never an excuse for not paying attention to detail.
If this movie was intended to be your typical teen flick, I'd cut it a lot
more slack -- but the director (first-timer Richard Kelly, who also
wrote the screenplay) wants you to believe Donnie Darko is "the
story of Holden Caulfield, resurrected in 1988 by the spirit of Phillip
K. Dick." Therefore, it must be held to a higher standard than
American Pie 2.
There seems to be no reason to set this film in the 1980's (except
that it's the era in which the director himself was a teen), and there
are lots of strange things with dates that don't pan out. The 28
days thing, for example -- is that supposed to signify the menstrual
period? After all, blood is spilt on the 28th day. It's never really
defined, though.
Although it claims to be very original, much of Donnie Darko is
derivative. First there's the six-foot bunny following the main
character, which no one else can see; then there are absolute
copies of the water-creatures from "The Abyss" floating around;
and there's the absurd, but oh-so-hip Tarantinoesque dialog
section, in which Donnie and his friends discuss whether or not
Smurfette is getting it on with the other Smurfs.
Photographed by Steven Poster (who won an ASC Award for his
work on Ridley Scott's "Someone to Watch Over Me," and whose
work is usually quite good), Donnie Darko is not only dark and
harshly shadowed (Drew Barrymore, who plays an English
teacher, looks like a ghoul in one bright sunlight / deep shadow
scene), but there's also an awful, dull flatness to it all. One scene,
apparently shot "day for night" is particularly bad.
There are certain elements in Donnie Darko that work, and there
are some flashes of meaning here and there. Richard Kelly might
be a director to watch for -- maybe Donnie Darko is just a rough
draft. But it's much too rough to be anything more.
to be asking each other. An air of mystery surrounds the ad
campaign. Is Donnie Darko a troubled high school boy? Is he the
demonic, shadowy character depicted on the poster? Is he a hero,
or a loser?
Elements of all those things are in Donnie Darko, who is
personified by Jake Gyllenhall ("October Sky"). Gyllenhall is the
real standout here, managing to portray this difficult, mostly
unlikable character with commendable depth.
And "depth" is what this movie thinks it's all about. What lies
beneath the veneer of American suburbia? Donnie is in psychotherapy, and even though he takes medication he still has
disturbing hallucinations involving "Frank", a big bunny-man who
looks like a cross between Harvey, the Jackalope, and Satan, and
who tells him the world will end in 28 days. Donnie's lackluster
new girlfriend, Gretchen (Jena Malone, "Stepmom"), is living under
some sort of witness protection program ("Gretchen" is not her
real name), hiding from her psychotic dad, who stabbed her mom
four times in the chest. Donnie's clean-cut science teacher, Dr.
Monnitoff (Noah Wylie, "A Few Good Men"), secretly believes in
time travel, and the possibility of such via random wormholes. Jim
Cunningham (Patrick Swayze, "The Green Dragon") is a freakishly
loving, kindly, and understanding self-help guru, whose fancy
mansion seems very out of place in the small, middleclass town.
There are lots of interesting characters (and some not so
interesting due to underdevelopment) and the plot does raise
some thought-provoking questions. Too bad it answers them far
too quickly. I saw the ending, which I imagine was supposed to
have major impact, coming almost right from the beginning (one
line of dialog could have been deleted to prevent this). I told myself
that maybe it didn't matter, since this film is obviously intended for
teenagers. But that's not fair; "talking down" to an audience is
never an excuse for not paying attention to detail.
If this movie was intended to be your typical teen flick, I'd cut it a lot
more slack -- but the director (first-timer Richard Kelly, who also
wrote the screenplay) wants you to believe Donnie Darko is "the
story of Holden Caulfield, resurrected in 1988 by the spirit of Phillip
K. Dick." Therefore, it must be held to a higher standard than
American Pie 2.
There seems to be no reason to set this film in the 1980's (except
that it's the era in which the director himself was a teen), and there
are lots of strange things with dates that don't pan out. The 28
days thing, for example -- is that supposed to signify the menstrual
period? After all, blood is spilt on the 28th day. It's never really
defined, though.
Although it claims to be very original, much of Donnie Darko is
derivative. First there's the six-foot bunny following the main
character, which no one else can see; then there are absolute
copies of the water-creatures from "The Abyss" floating around;
and there's the absurd, but oh-so-hip Tarantinoesque dialog
section, in which Donnie and his friends discuss whether or not
Smurfette is getting it on with the other Smurfs.
Photographed by Steven Poster (who won an ASC Award for his
work on Ridley Scott's "Someone to Watch Over Me," and whose
work is usually quite good), Donnie Darko is not only dark and
harshly shadowed (Drew Barrymore, who plays an English
teacher, looks like a ghoul in one bright sunlight / deep shadow
scene), but there's also an awful, dull flatness to it all. One scene,
apparently shot "day for night" is particularly bad.
There are certain elements in Donnie Darko that work, and there
are some flashes of meaning here and there. Richard Kelly might
be a director to watch for -- maybe Donnie Darko is just a rough
draft. But it's much too rough to be anything more.
Thir13en Ghosts
(2001)
A fun way to "kill" an hour and half
26 October 2001
If you're old enough, or if you're just a sucker for the horror genre, you'll remember the William Castle shlockfest, 13 Ghosts, which was released in 1960. It's a fun movie, but only mediocre -- and it's said that those kind of movies are the best to remake. After all, why re-do something if you cannot improve upon it? I'm happy to report that 2001's 13 Ghosts is indeed an improvement over the original. The plot has been loosely preserved -- an eccentric ghost-hunting uncle bequeaths haunted house to poor relatives -- but mostly this is a stylish, spooky special-effects extravaganza. Unlike the gangly ghost-gandering goggles of the original, the new glasses are pretty plain -- but the important thing is what's seen through the lenses. The ghosts are just about the freakiest, scariest, most way-out creatures to come rattling down the hallway in a long time. Since there are twelve of them (who's the thirteenth ghost? As in the original, that's a mystery till the end), there's a special nightmare for everyone. The Torn Prince, The Torso, and The Jackal, to name just a few. The house is vastly improved as well -- it's a much scarier see-through structure than the one used in this year's wannabe thriller, "The Glass House."
Trapped in their new home by shifting walls and churning floor levels, the family (Dad Tony Shaloub, daughter Shannon Elizabeth, and son Alec Roberts) encounters evil entities that want to eradicate anyone in their path -- and unlike traditional ghosts, these ones can (and will) do bodily harm! Aside from the family, their housekeeper and two other people end up trapped inside the malevolent structure. One is Rafkin (Matthew Lillard), former assistant to the aforementioned eccentric uncle (F. Murray Abraham) -- I've always liked Lillard, but he didn't work for me here. He's too funny, and I think that 13 Ghosts would have worked much better as a straight-ahead scary movie. (And there isn't quite enough comedy in it to make a comedic horror film, like An American Werewolf in London, or even Scream.)
Steve Beck, who is making his directorial debut here, is no stranger to the film industry. He served as visual effects art director on such films as The Hunt for Red October, The Abyss, and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. He definitely knows how to keep our eyes trained on the screen. Everything comes together really well and compliments each other (the music score and sound effects overlap and entwine, following the action on the screen perfectly).
I'm not saying that 13 Ghosts is the best supernatural horror film of the year (that honor would have to go to The Others, with Jeepers Creepers on its heels), but it's a fun way to "kill" an hour and half this Halloween season.
Trapped in their new home by shifting walls and churning floor levels, the family (Dad Tony Shaloub, daughter Shannon Elizabeth, and son Alec Roberts) encounters evil entities that want to eradicate anyone in their path -- and unlike traditional ghosts, these ones can (and will) do bodily harm! Aside from the family, their housekeeper and two other people end up trapped inside the malevolent structure. One is Rafkin (Matthew Lillard), former assistant to the aforementioned eccentric uncle (F. Murray Abraham) -- I've always liked Lillard, but he didn't work for me here. He's too funny, and I think that 13 Ghosts would have worked much better as a straight-ahead scary movie. (And there isn't quite enough comedy in it to make a comedic horror film, like An American Werewolf in London, or even Scream.)
Steve Beck, who is making his directorial debut here, is no stranger to the film industry. He served as visual effects art director on such films as The Hunt for Red October, The Abyss, and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. He definitely knows how to keep our eyes trained on the screen. Everything comes together really well and compliments each other (the music score and sound effects overlap and entwine, following the action on the screen perfectly).
I'm not saying that 13 Ghosts is the best supernatural horror film of the year (that honor would have to go to The Others, with Jeepers Creepers on its heels), but it's a fun way to "kill" an hour and half this Halloween season.
The Man Who Wasn't There
(2001)
Billy Bob is definitely "all there" in this movie
26 October 2001
I love everything the Coen Brothers do. Fargo is one of my top
picks any day of the week, and O Brother Where Art Thou? was in
my 10 Best of 2000 list.
Although I love everything the C-Bros do, I don't always love it right
away. I remember being disappointed by The Big Lebowski when
it first hit theatres. I don't know what I was expecting, but whatever it
was, The Big Lebowski wasn't it. After some time went by, I caught
it again on cable -- and loved it! I've seen it several times now, and
own it on video (still working on the DVD collection...).
While I can't say I dislike The Man Who Wasn't There, I'm not
instantly loving it, either. It's a good movie; well-acted, well-written,
well-directed, well-photographed... but, well, a bit dull. While the
movie played, I found myself fidgeting, wondering what time it was,
thinking about tomorrow's plans, and so on. That's never a good
sign. But you might catch me six months from now, I'll have seen it
again and wonder what the heck was I thinking when I gave it this
marginal review.
Presented entirely in black and white, The Man Who Wasn't There
is Joel and Ethan's homage to film noir. Set in the mid-1940s, the
plot focuses on a morose barber, Ed Crane (Billy Bob Thornton,
"Bandits"), and his upwardly mobile, fashion-conscious wife, Doris
(Frances McDormand, "Almost Famous"). When he discovers that
his wife has been unfaithful to him with her boss (James
Gandolfini, "The Mexican"), Ed concocts a blackmailing scheme to
teach her a lesson, and make a few bucks in the process. But
when his plan backfires, Ed Crane becomes embroiled in a
murderous plot and faces terrible consequences. (And yes, it's a
comedy.)
As is always the case in Coen films, The Man Who Wasn't There
features fantastic acting from the top stars (Gandolfini is
marvelous, as is Thornton -- I admire these two actors more and
more every time I see them) to the supporting cast (Coen mainstay
Michael Badalucco is excellent as Ed's brother-in-law and
co-worker, and Tony Schaloub as cocky attorney Freddy Riedenschneider is brilliant), right down to the unknown bit
players.
There is a strange sub-plot in The Man Who Wasn't There which
doesn't quite tie together -- once you've seen this movie, you might
think of it as I did: a cross between Double Indemnity and The
X-Files. I like both story elements, but not necessarily together.
However, if you are a Coen Brothers fan I recommend you see this
movie and decide for yourself.
picks any day of the week, and O Brother Where Art Thou? was in
my 10 Best of 2000 list.
Although I love everything the C-Bros do, I don't always love it right
away. I remember being disappointed by The Big Lebowski when
it first hit theatres. I don't know what I was expecting, but whatever it
was, The Big Lebowski wasn't it. After some time went by, I caught
it again on cable -- and loved it! I've seen it several times now, and
own it on video (still working on the DVD collection...).
While I can't say I dislike The Man Who Wasn't There, I'm not
instantly loving it, either. It's a good movie; well-acted, well-written,
well-directed, well-photographed... but, well, a bit dull. While the
movie played, I found myself fidgeting, wondering what time it was,
thinking about tomorrow's plans, and so on. That's never a good
sign. But you might catch me six months from now, I'll have seen it
again and wonder what the heck was I thinking when I gave it this
marginal review.
Presented entirely in black and white, The Man Who Wasn't There
is Joel and Ethan's homage to film noir. Set in the mid-1940s, the
plot focuses on a morose barber, Ed Crane (Billy Bob Thornton,
"Bandits"), and his upwardly mobile, fashion-conscious wife, Doris
(Frances McDormand, "Almost Famous"). When he discovers that
his wife has been unfaithful to him with her boss (James
Gandolfini, "The Mexican"), Ed concocts a blackmailing scheme to
teach her a lesson, and make a few bucks in the process. But
when his plan backfires, Ed Crane becomes embroiled in a
murderous plot and faces terrible consequences. (And yes, it's a
comedy.)
As is always the case in Coen films, The Man Who Wasn't There
features fantastic acting from the top stars (Gandolfini is
marvelous, as is Thornton -- I admire these two actors more and
more every time I see them) to the supporting cast (Coen mainstay
Michael Badalucco is excellent as Ed's brother-in-law and
co-worker, and Tony Schaloub as cocky attorney Freddy Riedenschneider is brilliant), right down to the unknown bit
players.
There is a strange sub-plot in The Man Who Wasn't There which
doesn't quite tie together -- once you've seen this movie, you might
think of it as I did: a cross between Double Indemnity and The
X-Files. I like both story elements, but not necessarily together.
However, if you are a Coen Brothers fan I recommend you see this
movie and decide for yourself.
Bandits
(2001)
Billy Bob steals the show!
26 October 2001
Bandits is a typical Barry Levinson comedy -- if you enjoy his work,
you'll more than likely love Bandits. There's laughs, romance,
rivalry, and lots of thrills-n-spills, all juxtapositioned with a fantastic
popular rock soundtrack (Page and Plant's "Gallow's Pole" is used
to great effect as the two convicts escape from prison in the very
beginning).
Bruce Willis ("Unbreakable") is Joe, a charming ladies' man, and
Billy Bob Thornton ("The Man Who Wasn't There") is Terry, a fussy
gourmet cook with a potful of neuroses (including Thornton's
real-life fear of antique furniture). The likable pair of bank robbers
are known as the Sleepover Bandits because they surprise bank
managers at home and stay the night with them (having dinner,
watching TV) until they all go to the bank to open vaults before work
the next morning. (As implausible as this may sound, Bandits is
supposedly loosely based on a true story.) When Kate (Cate
Blanchett, "The Man Who Cried"), an unfulfilled housewife,
stumbles across the gang's hideout, she turns their world upside
down.
Soon Joe and Terry become the most successful bank robbers in
the nation, with TV coverage and a spot on every law enforcement
agent's most wanted list. And as far as Kate is concerned, they
also make the perfect man. Which means, she can't decide
between them. Things get even more complicated when the police
assume that Kate is a hostage and they embark on a manhunt to
save her from the scoundrels.
The trio of actors have an easy, friendly chemistry between them
(Thornton worked with Willis before in Armageddon, and with
Blanchett on Pushing Tin). The movie is a little slow in finding its
way but in the end, these 'Bandits' will almost certainly steal your
heart.
you'll more than likely love Bandits. There's laughs, romance,
rivalry, and lots of thrills-n-spills, all juxtapositioned with a fantastic
popular rock soundtrack (Page and Plant's "Gallow's Pole" is used
to great effect as the two convicts escape from prison in the very
beginning).
Bruce Willis ("Unbreakable") is Joe, a charming ladies' man, and
Billy Bob Thornton ("The Man Who Wasn't There") is Terry, a fussy
gourmet cook with a potful of neuroses (including Thornton's
real-life fear of antique furniture). The likable pair of bank robbers
are known as the Sleepover Bandits because they surprise bank
managers at home and stay the night with them (having dinner,
watching TV) until they all go to the bank to open vaults before work
the next morning. (As implausible as this may sound, Bandits is
supposedly loosely based on a true story.) When Kate (Cate
Blanchett, "The Man Who Cried"), an unfulfilled housewife,
stumbles across the gang's hideout, she turns their world upside
down.
Soon Joe and Terry become the most successful bank robbers in
the nation, with TV coverage and a spot on every law enforcement
agent's most wanted list. And as far as Kate is concerned, they
also make the perfect man. Which means, she can't decide
between them. Things get even more complicated when the police
assume that Kate is a hostage and they embark on a manhunt to
save her from the scoundrels.
The trio of actors have an easy, friendly chemistry between them
(Thornton worked with Willis before in Armageddon, and with
Blanchett on Pushing Tin). The movie is a little slow in finding its
way but in the end, these 'Bandits' will almost certainly steal your
heart.
From Hell
(2001)
From Hell is heavenly!
26 October 2001
Smoky opium dens, sugar-saturated absinthe, bloody red skies,
dark alleys shadowed with fog, and silver knife-blades that glint
and reflect the light of pure evil It's 1888, Jack the Ripper is living
his glory days, and you are right there with him.
It's easy to get drawn into this seamy, fascinating world. From Hell
is loosely based upon the real events, presented in a beautifully
dreamy, surreal fashion. It's the most visually pleasing
Victorian-England horror offering since Coppola's version of
Dracula, which came out nearly ten years ago. The cinematographer is Peter Deming, a David Lynch favorite (he did
2001's Mulholland Drive as well as Lost Highway). He does some
very interesting things with time-lapse styled photography and
stop-motion techniques without getting too trick.
Directed by The Hughes brothers (their last feature was 1995's
Dead Presidents), who supposedly met with everyone from Sean
Connery to Brad Pitt to Jude Law before deciding upon Johnny
Depp for the starring role of Inspector Frederick George Abberline.
They made the right choice: as usual, Depp seems to immerse
himself in the role from diction to demeanor to dress, and
whenever he is on the screen your eyes are on him. Teamed up
with Heather Graham as the ill-fated prostitute Mary Kelly, Depp
almost brings her up to par. Almost. Graham does a fine job, but
compared with the other actors in the film -- Depp, Susan Lynch as
'Long Liz' Stride, and Ian Holm as Sir William Gull -- she's miscast.
There is nothing about her to ignite the romantic sub-story, and as
a consequence that part just doesn't work.
Luckily, it doesn't get in the way, either. This movie is not only
visually stunning and well-acted, it's very aptly directed. The
Hughes Brothers took a risk here, wishing to shrug off their image
of being 'urban' or 'black' filmmakers, and it's paid off. They bring to
life, in short flashes, the legendary curiosities of Victorian life: the
advent of the frontal lobotomy; legal, psychotropic drugs; John "The
Elephant Man" Merrick on public display; and the eccentric Queen
Victoria with her strange secrets. Like the devil, it's in the details,
and The Hughes Brothers have paid attention to all of them.
Although the murders were re-created in detail on a set in Prague
(and if you've seen the actual crime-scene photos, as I have, you
will appreciate this), they are not as gory as the directors would
have liked. Thus challenged, they manage to evoke a feeling of
what it must have been like -- from experiencing the brutal killings
and eviscerations themselves, to the aftermath of curious crowds
wanting a glimpse of the forlorn, desecrated bodies of these
women who once lived -- and it's chilling.
Like a red rose gone black at its edges, still smelling sweetly of
life even as it decays, From Hell manages to straddle the fine line
of meshing delicate beauty with bleak death.
dark alleys shadowed with fog, and silver knife-blades that glint
and reflect the light of pure evil It's 1888, Jack the Ripper is living
his glory days, and you are right there with him.
It's easy to get drawn into this seamy, fascinating world. From Hell
is loosely based upon the real events, presented in a beautifully
dreamy, surreal fashion. It's the most visually pleasing
Victorian-England horror offering since Coppola's version of
Dracula, which came out nearly ten years ago. The cinematographer is Peter Deming, a David Lynch favorite (he did
2001's Mulholland Drive as well as Lost Highway). He does some
very interesting things with time-lapse styled photography and
stop-motion techniques without getting too trick.
Directed by The Hughes brothers (their last feature was 1995's
Dead Presidents), who supposedly met with everyone from Sean
Connery to Brad Pitt to Jude Law before deciding upon Johnny
Depp for the starring role of Inspector Frederick George Abberline.
They made the right choice: as usual, Depp seems to immerse
himself in the role from diction to demeanor to dress, and
whenever he is on the screen your eyes are on him. Teamed up
with Heather Graham as the ill-fated prostitute Mary Kelly, Depp
almost brings her up to par. Almost. Graham does a fine job, but
compared with the other actors in the film -- Depp, Susan Lynch as
'Long Liz' Stride, and Ian Holm as Sir William Gull -- she's miscast.
There is nothing about her to ignite the romantic sub-story, and as
a consequence that part just doesn't work.
Luckily, it doesn't get in the way, either. This movie is not only
visually stunning and well-acted, it's very aptly directed. The
Hughes Brothers took a risk here, wishing to shrug off their image
of being 'urban' or 'black' filmmakers, and it's paid off. They bring to
life, in short flashes, the legendary curiosities of Victorian life: the
advent of the frontal lobotomy; legal, psychotropic drugs; John "The
Elephant Man" Merrick on public display; and the eccentric Queen
Victoria with her strange secrets. Like the devil, it's in the details,
and The Hughes Brothers have paid attention to all of them.
Although the murders were re-created in detail on a set in Prague
(and if you've seen the actual crime-scene photos, as I have, you
will appreciate this), they are not as gory as the directors would
have liked. Thus challenged, they manage to evoke a feeling of
what it must have been like -- from experiencing the brutal killings
and eviscerations themselves, to the aftermath of curious crowds
wanting a glimpse of the forlorn, desecrated bodies of these
women who once lived -- and it's chilling.
Like a red rose gone black at its edges, still smelling sweetly of
life even as it decays, From Hell manages to straddle the fine line
of meshing delicate beauty with bleak death.
Hearts in Atlantis
(2001)
Is a picture worth 1,000 words?
28 September 2001
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but as is often the case with films based upon books, Hearts in Atlantis can't quite capture the essence of Stephen King's nostalgic yet edgy prose. Hearts in Atlantis is based upon King's collection of short stories about kids living in the 1960s. The film mainly focuses on one story, "Low Men in Yellow Coats," which was adapted by another master writer, William Goldman (whose next project is also a King adaptation -- Dreamcatcher). Lots of elements from the story are used -- from eleven-year-old Bobby Garfield's (Anton Yelchin, "Along Came a Spider") Schwinn obsession, to a trip to the carnival where Bobby and his friends ride a roller coaster that makes them feel, as King put it, "simultaneously sure they were going to live forever and die immediately." Bobby's childhood is not ideal. His embittered, widowed mother (Hope Davis, "Mumford") is selfish and stingy. For Bobby's birthday she gives him a library card instead of the coveted Schwinn, but still manages to glean from her meager income enough dollars to spend on new dresses. Not unlike King's Stand By Me, Hearts' focus is on friendship and growing up, first kisses, bullies, the loss of innocence, and, a carrot of the unknown dangling just out of reach. In Stand, it was the search for a dead body allegedly rotting by the railroad tracks; in Hearts, it's the possession of a strange mental power that is never fully explained. The possessor of that power is Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins, "Hannibal"), a soft-spoken Englishman, and a newcomer to the neighborhood. In the short story, Ted is being hunted by yellow-jacketed men; monsters from King's Dark Tower novels who take over a shady part of town. In the movie, the villains are shadowy, trench-coated government "MIB" types. The pace is slow -- too slow at times, but that is the mark of director Scott Hicks (cases in point: "Snow Falling on Cedars" and "Shine" -- both fairly good movies, as is Hearts, but not exactly rigid theatre-chair fare). The cinematography, by the recently deceased Piotr Sobocinski ("Angel Eyes"), is dreamy yet realistic. Everything seems just right for the period. The sets, the clothing, the dialogue, the soundtrack; it all works. What doesn't work is the supernatural element. It's been said every movie is really just "a boy and his dog" story, and perhaps one could say Hearts is the memoir of a "a boy and his psychic," but to pull it off successfully, I believe the supernatural element deserved more attention. As it is, it's such a minor, undeveloped subplot that it might as well have been left out altogether. Aside from the sometimes numbing passage of time, one thing that irritated me about Hearts was the "passed torch" of repeated dialog from one character to another. Perhaps it was supposed to be touchingly ironic. Or perhaps it was done to make sure the audience hasn't nodded off. (I'm not saying that Hearts is a bad movie, and despite its languid, glacial pace, it's not boring; I just think it's better suited to home-viewing.) Truly the only reason to see Hearts in the theatre is Sir Anthony Hopkins. In my opinion he is one of, if not the, greatest actor living today. There is just something about him that makes you like him and want to know him, whether he is a cunning cannibal or a root beer swilling psychic on the lam. In the care of anyone other than Hopkins, much of the dialog and certainly the telepathic trances, would fly way over the top -- but Hopkins keeps things in believable check. Another reason to see Hearts is Mika Boorem (also from "Along Came A Spider"), who plays Bobby's budding young girlfriend, Carol. She projects a fiery yet playful character who is tempered by a sweet, refreshing innocence. It's a long time in coming but Goldman, experienced storyteller that he is, understands that eventually there has to be some conflict in a movie, so the loose knots of Bobby's childhood come undone. The people Bobby loves -- his mom, Ted, and Carol -- are all violated in different ways and desperately, valiantly, Bobby does everything in his power to help them. When the film comes to an end, there is little resolution of the conflicts; instead there's a leap forward into the present, in which grownup Bobby (David Morse, "Proof of Life") has a completely implausible meeting with Carol's daughter, which, supposedly, is to give him closure. That courtesy closure, I'm afraid, isn't extended to the audience.
Two Can Play That Game
(2001)
Let the games begin!
6 September 2001
Shanté Smith (Vivica A. Fox) is a confident, successful, beautiful woman. She knows how to handle her man, she knows how to navigate the shark-infested business waters, and she knows how to dress for success in both the bedroom and the boardroom. Shanté is the envy of her best girlfriends Diedre, Karen and Tracye (Mo'Nique, Wendy Raquel Robinson, and Tamala Jones), who always turn to their wise mentor for romantic advice. But what happens when the teacher unexpectedly becomes the student? Shanté has a few things to learn, she realizes, when she catches her man Keith (Morris Chestnut) in the arms of her business rival, Conny (Gabrielle Union). Shanté immediately puts her step-by-step "Ten Day Plan" into action to get him back in line and back to her. Unfortunately the happy ending that Shanté fully expects goes upside down when Keith begins following the advice of his buddy Tony (Anthony Anderson), who brings a player's perspective to the games girls play. Fox carries Two Can Play That Game, and she carries it well. She is able to play her character in the traditional manner, and directly address the audience with sassy little asides. Doing this is risky and it usually doesn't work, but in this case Fox as Shanté is so likeable she easily draws the audience into her world and makes us feel that we're a part of it. First-time director Mark Brown (producer of "How To Be A Player") should be commended for being able to strike this precarious balance. So too should the scribe -- hey, it's Mark Brown again! -- who wrote a witty, enchanting script. There's all-out comedy (when Shanté is on the sixth day of her Ten Day Plan, she must get out there and date. you've never seen an assembly line of so many hilarious losers) balanced with believable, heartfelt romance.
While Fox does carry this comedy of the heart, she is well-supported by a standout cast of talented, likeable actors. Morris is almost as foxy as Fox as they love and spar; Anderson is so laugh-out-loud funny you'll need to bring tissues to the theatre; Mo'Nique is so cool you'll want her for your own best friend; and the smooth, sexy singer Bobby Brown is practically unrecognizable in a cameo appearance as a buck-toothed mechanic in desperate need of a makeover. Most of the characters in Two Can Play That Game are in need of a little "makeover" -- particularly when it comes to how they look at love and romance. But the movie itself needs no such makeover. It's perfect just the way it is.
While Fox does carry this comedy of the heart, she is well-supported by a standout cast of talented, likeable actors. Morris is almost as foxy as Fox as they love and spar; Anderson is so laugh-out-loud funny you'll need to bring tissues to the theatre; Mo'Nique is so cool you'll want her for your own best friend; and the smooth, sexy singer Bobby Brown is practically unrecognizable in a cameo appearance as a buck-toothed mechanic in desperate need of a makeover. Most of the characters in Two Can Play That Game are in need of a little "makeover" -- particularly when it comes to how they look at love and romance. But the movie itself needs no such makeover. It's perfect just the way it is.
The Musketeer
(2001)
No-edged sword...
6 September 2001
Warning: Spoilers
***SPOILERS*** ***SPOILERS*** This movie is so bad on so many levels, I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I'll start with the synopsis. That's harmless enough. The Musketeer opens up on a young D'Artagnan (Justin Chambers, "The Wedding Planner") in 17th century France, as he witnesses the unprovoked murder of his parents at the hands of the villainous Febre (Tim Roth, "Planet of the Apes"), over unpaid taxes. Even back then, taxmen were vilified. At least now all they can do is audit you. Little D'Artagnan is a spunky boy, and he tries to fight back but all he manages is a sword-slash to Febre's left eye. No matter that the weapon probably weighed more than he did. For some reason, the merciless, heartless tax-collector-cum-killer lets the little boy live. (Which turns out to be a big mistake, if you hadn't guessed.) D'Artagnan grows up with an unspecified mentor who teaches him the way of the sword as they travel across the land, looking either for Febre, or other musketeers so D'Artagnan can join up. I'm not sure which is the quest, but at any rate, they find both. The Three Musketeers, Aramis, Athos and Porthos (Nick Moran, Jan Gregor Kremp, and Steve Speirs, respectively), who have peripheral roles here at best, are portrayed as one-dimensional bumblers. Febre, who hasn't aged a day in lo these many years, is as cartoony-cruel as ever. Nowadays, he's hooked up with the unscrupulous, greedy Cardinal Richelieu (Stephen Rea, "The End of the Affair") and they're out to overthrow the King. Enter the Musketeers. As they clang sword tips together and proclaim, "All for one! One for all!" you can imagine the phrase being delivered without the exclamation points. Collectively, they possess about as much passion as a parking meter. Along the way, D'Artagnan falls in love with a feisty peasant girl, Francesca, portrayed by Mena Suvari ("American Pie 2") with as much sass and flash as a department store mannequin. She delivers her lines as though she thought she was memorizing the script for something that might have been called American Musketeer 2. She really needs to stick to films with the word "American" in the title, I think. Although there is absolutely no spark between the two young lovers onscreen, perhaps they are well-matched. Chambers is just as white-bread bland, and obviously miscast, as Suvari is. There's the requisite oops-I-saw-you-naked scene early on in the movie. And then. there's another one! Then, of course they make love. And, again of course, while practically en flagrato, the maiden winds up in the clutches of the dastardly Febre, who has also kidnapped the Queen (Catherine Deneuve, "Dancer in the Dark"). Deneuve and Rea are the only actors worth watching in this whole debacle. That is, if you could see them. Director/cinematographer Peter Hyams ("End of Days") has made this film so dark and drab, at first I thought I was watching a work print. I'm not opposed to artistic inkyness or black used as negative space, but there is just no excuse for what's on the screen here. The color balance is way off, and most of the fight scenes are shot so claustrophobically you can hardly tell who's who (which the actors probably preferred; the less face-time the better). In addition to the poor cinematography and dull, dull direction, the egregiously loud soundtrack, with decibel-levels to rival an AC/DC vs. Motorhead concert, is strictly standard fare. The Musketeer tries for a few laughs here and there, but it appears Hyams really couldn't decide what he wanted to do in regards to this. In one especially disastrously directed scene, D'Artagnan must abandon his spent steed, who has carried him at full gallop across the countryside to rescue the Queen and his lady love. The horse sinks down to the ground, heaving with exhaustion. D'Artagnan, leaving the poor creature in full saddle and bridle, vows to return for him as he dashes off. I think this was meant to be serious moment between man and trusty beast, but the screening audience was laughing all through it. (And by the way, D'Artagnan broke his promise. He should be horse-whipped for that!) Much has been made of Xin-Xin Xiong choreographing the fight scenes for The Musketeer, and when one goes to see a swashbuckler, one excepts a lot of sword play. You do get a lot here. Too much. After 19 sword fights, the big, climactic showdown at the end is minimized. Still, Xiong's choreography shines -- as the Musketeer swings from long ropes suspended on the side of a tower, and teeters on the end of long ladders (how lucky the castle was being renovated at that moment!), he cuts an almost-dashing figure. Still, he's no Errol Flynn (or even Jackie Chan). I was looking forward to the action in this movie, and came away very disappointed (not to mention bored). Hyams has stressed in interviews that despite the hiring of an Asian fight choreographer, he purposely stayed away from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Matrix-like tricks. Since the movie's lead actors didn't stay in the traditional French mode anyway, and since the dialogue doesn't even try for authenticity, why not go for some Far Eastern-embellished, stylized swashbuckling? It wouldn't have saved the movie, but if definitely would have helped. The tagline for The Musketeer reads, "As you've never seen it before." Might I add, "And hope to never see again"? If there's ever a remake (or a reimagining, if Tim Burton has anything to do with it) of A Clockwork Orange, I think the manic-movie scene should feature The Musketeer up there on the big screen of torment. <<I noticed that IMDb suggests if you liked Fight Club, you'd like The Musketeer... no way! The two movies are as different as chalk to cheese>>
Jeepers Creepers
(2001)
Eye-Popping Horror!
16 August 2001
Warning: Spoilers
Ever want to see the world through someone else's eyes? That's something we say everyday, like walking a mile in another man's moccasins. Jeepers Creepers takes things a step further. Ever wonder what it's like to breathe through someone's else lungs, or talk with another guy's tongue? The Creeper doesn't have to wonder. He knows. He is what he eats.
Jeepers Creepers is the story of Trish (Gina Phillips) and her brother Darry (Justin Long), who are driving home from college along the scenic route. Before long, their leisurely drive is disrupted when they are threatened by an aggressively-driven old truck with a freaky paint job, blacked-out windows and a license plate reading BEATNGU (be eating you -- get it?). The truck veers to the other lane and shoots down the road, leaving them alone.
Soon after, they spot the truck parked outside an old, deserted church. They become eyewitnesses to what could be a horrible crime: The driver is dropping what looks like sheet-clad corpses down into a large drain pipe sticking out of the ground. The siblings move on, but curiosity gets the better of Darry, who insists they turn back to investigate. This is an excellent scene, as most movies would offer no explanation as to why they'd do such a dumb thing. When Darry says to Trish, "What if someone is still alive in there? What if it were you?", you can honestly relate to that, and think maybe -- just maybe -- you'd do the same. When they return to the scene, the Creeper's truck is nowhere to be seen in the vicinity of the abandoned church. So Trish and Darry proceed with little caution, leaving their car right out in the driveway, in plain sight of the road. When Darry peers down the drainpipe, he -- surprise! -- falls headfirst into the inky darkness. Here is where the story really kicks into high gear and keeps the tension on full-bore.
Jeepers Creepers might be called derivative by some, but I saw it as a real homage to the what has gone before in the horror genre. The chase scenes are remeniscent of Duel; the bloody scene set in backwoods police station may remind you of Assault On Precinct 13; and the killer himself is a Frankenstein of everything from Leatherface to the creatures in Gargoyles. Rather than trying to come up with something new under the sun, the writer/director, Victor Salva, takes our favorite, most beloved terrors and gives them to us just the way we want them. He doesn't just whet our appetite, he feeds our gruesome hunger. The action quickly takes you right into the eye of the storm, revealing the true nature of the beast little by little, and not shying away when it comes time to see him. That's not to say Salvo doesn't lead us into a game of blindman's bluff now and again -- but his fakeouts really work.
I don't know if the Creeper will take his place among such horror icons as Leatherface, Michael Myers or Jason, but I think he has all the goods. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in the world of horror movies, this freak is one hell of a looker. Kudos to the makeup effects guy, Brian Penikas, who gives us an eyeful without falling back on a lot of obvious, high-tech CGI. While both of the leads have little on their resumes, they do a fantastic job on not only looking scared, but making you believe they are scared. One thing I liked about the characters is that they are modern-day young adults who have obviously seen a lot of horror movies (as one of them says, "You know the part in scary movies where somebody does something really stupid and everybody hates them for it? Well, this is it!"), they don't come off as smarmy or wink-at-the-audience self-aware. I liked the fact that their dynamic is as brother and sister, not boyfriend and girlfriend. Also, there isn't the cliché T&A, and the obligatory "couple-having-sex-gets-killed" scene. The director brings a fresh approach to the genre (ala Clive Barker, who writes and directs some of the scariest, most twisted horror ever produced). I thought the cinematographer, Don FauntLeRoy, did a great job in working with the darkness, shadows and light, balancing it all. He also presented some interesting bird's eyes views and did a particularly nice job on the one of the major scenes in the film, the "hit and hit and hit and run" sequence? let's just say that somebody gets run over, big time. No glancing blow here -- the driver of the car is really out for blood. Not much is left to old mind's eye, either? you get to see everything in all its glory. (There's another horror movie out now, The Others -- which I think is a far superior film, overall -- that shows you nothing? but I can appreciate both styles, as can most true fans of this deliciously diverse genre. It's nice to devour two such treats, a juicy fast food burger and an elegantly prepared filet mignon, in the same month.)
The song Jeepers Creepers is played to great effect (though most of the general population probably doesn't remember the 1930's hit), I would have liked to have seen Salva have more fun with the musical score. Perhaps the budget didn't allow for it, but it would've been cool to feature The Stones' The Girl With the Faraway Eyes, The Who's Eyesight to the Blind, or the Frank Sinatra (aka, "Old Blue Eyes") version of I Only Have Eyes for You. And, while not exactly campy, there is some measure of humor in the story? though your chuckle will probably be more that of a tension releasing sort than a truly amused one. We haven't had a horror movie like this for a long time. If you'd give your eye-teeth for an old-fashioned, balls-out, creature spooker, Jeepers Creepers is the one for you; a sight for sore eyes, you might even say. (Well, you probably wouldn't, but I have no shame.)
Jeepers Creepers is the story of Trish (Gina Phillips) and her brother Darry (Justin Long), who are driving home from college along the scenic route. Before long, their leisurely drive is disrupted when they are threatened by an aggressively-driven old truck with a freaky paint job, blacked-out windows and a license plate reading BEATNGU (be eating you -- get it?). The truck veers to the other lane and shoots down the road, leaving them alone.
Soon after, they spot the truck parked outside an old, deserted church. They become eyewitnesses to what could be a horrible crime: The driver is dropping what looks like sheet-clad corpses down into a large drain pipe sticking out of the ground. The siblings move on, but curiosity gets the better of Darry, who insists they turn back to investigate. This is an excellent scene, as most movies would offer no explanation as to why they'd do such a dumb thing. When Darry says to Trish, "What if someone is still alive in there? What if it were you?", you can honestly relate to that, and think maybe -- just maybe -- you'd do the same. When they return to the scene, the Creeper's truck is nowhere to be seen in the vicinity of the abandoned church. So Trish and Darry proceed with little caution, leaving their car right out in the driveway, in plain sight of the road. When Darry peers down the drainpipe, he -- surprise! -- falls headfirst into the inky darkness. Here is where the story really kicks into high gear and keeps the tension on full-bore.
Jeepers Creepers might be called derivative by some, but I saw it as a real homage to the what has gone before in the horror genre. The chase scenes are remeniscent of Duel; the bloody scene set in backwoods police station may remind you of Assault On Precinct 13; and the killer himself is a Frankenstein of everything from Leatherface to the creatures in Gargoyles. Rather than trying to come up with something new under the sun, the writer/director, Victor Salva, takes our favorite, most beloved terrors and gives them to us just the way we want them. He doesn't just whet our appetite, he feeds our gruesome hunger. The action quickly takes you right into the eye of the storm, revealing the true nature of the beast little by little, and not shying away when it comes time to see him. That's not to say Salvo doesn't lead us into a game of blindman's bluff now and again -- but his fakeouts really work.
I don't know if the Creeper will take his place among such horror icons as Leatherface, Michael Myers or Jason, but I think he has all the goods. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in the world of horror movies, this freak is one hell of a looker. Kudos to the makeup effects guy, Brian Penikas, who gives us an eyeful without falling back on a lot of obvious, high-tech CGI. While both of the leads have little on their resumes, they do a fantastic job on not only looking scared, but making you believe they are scared. One thing I liked about the characters is that they are modern-day young adults who have obviously seen a lot of horror movies (as one of them says, "You know the part in scary movies where somebody does something really stupid and everybody hates them for it? Well, this is it!"), they don't come off as smarmy or wink-at-the-audience self-aware. I liked the fact that their dynamic is as brother and sister, not boyfriend and girlfriend. Also, there isn't the cliché T&A, and the obligatory "couple-having-sex-gets-killed" scene. The director brings a fresh approach to the genre (ala Clive Barker, who writes and directs some of the scariest, most twisted horror ever produced). I thought the cinematographer, Don FauntLeRoy, did a great job in working with the darkness, shadows and light, balancing it all. He also presented some interesting bird's eyes views and did a particularly nice job on the one of the major scenes in the film, the "hit and hit and hit and run" sequence? let's just say that somebody gets run over, big time. No glancing blow here -- the driver of the car is really out for blood. Not much is left to old mind's eye, either? you get to see everything in all its glory. (There's another horror movie out now, The Others -- which I think is a far superior film, overall -- that shows you nothing? but I can appreciate both styles, as can most true fans of this deliciously diverse genre. It's nice to devour two such treats, a juicy fast food burger and an elegantly prepared filet mignon, in the same month.)
The song Jeepers Creepers is played to great effect (though most of the general population probably doesn't remember the 1930's hit), I would have liked to have seen Salva have more fun with the musical score. Perhaps the budget didn't allow for it, but it would've been cool to feature The Stones' The Girl With the Faraway Eyes, The Who's Eyesight to the Blind, or the Frank Sinatra (aka, "Old Blue Eyes") version of I Only Have Eyes for You. And, while not exactly campy, there is some measure of humor in the story? though your chuckle will probably be more that of a tension releasing sort than a truly amused one. We haven't had a horror movie like this for a long time. If you'd give your eye-teeth for an old-fashioned, balls-out, creature spooker, Jeepers Creepers is the one for you; a sight for sore eyes, you might even say. (Well, you probably wouldn't, but I have no shame.)
Pithy Woody
16 August 2001
The Curse of the Jade Scorpion stars director Woody Allen ("Small Time Crooks") as a wolfish, crackerjack 1940's insurance investigator named C.W. Briggs. There's no case he hasn't solved, not even the stolen Picasso ingeniously rolled up inside a telescope ("It took me five minutes just to find the nose!" he quips). But Briggs might be forced to give up bragging rights to being the best in the biz when he sways under the spell of The Jade Scorpion, and finds himself clueless in his most puzzling case to date.
The CEO of the company, Chris Magruder (Dan Ackroyd, "Pearl Harbor"), has hired his mistress, Betty-Ann Fitzgerald (Helen Hunt, "What Women Want") as an efficiency expert to make improvements around the office, but all she really succeeds in doing is irritating and upsetting Briggs, who liked things just the way they were. The two verbally spar ala Tracy and Hepburn (while maintaining Allen's signature style) throughout the film. They're attracted to each other, and yet they despise each other. Allen is his usual bumbling anti-hero self, and Hunt, despite some clunker dialogue, holds her own as the brainy bitch (she says to him, "I'm smarter, faster and I can see right through you -- you're right to feel threatened by me.").
One night, while out on the town with their co-workers, Briggs and Fitzgerald are chosen as volunteers to go onstage with the performing hypnotist Voltan Polgar (David Ogden Stiers, "Tomcats"). Polgar mesmerizes Briggs and Fitzgerald with a jade scorpion on a string, making them think they are deeply in love. The acting and set-up reminded me very much of an Abbott and Costello skit, but it worked. Because Briggs set up the security systems for the wealthy who insure with his company, Polgar keeps the ruse going after the party is over, using the still-hypnotized Briggs to steal jewelry from those rich clients and bring the goods to him. Of course, Briggs remembers nothing afterwards, and he unknowingly winds up chasing the culprit who is actually himself.
Charlize Theron ("Wakin' Up In Reno") and Elizabeth Berkeley ("Becoming Dick") have small roles -- the former a brazen blond bombshell, the latter a pretty but mousy secretary. Needless to say, Briggs is hot after both of them, and needless to say, he beds neither. He's unwittingly saving himself for the woman he really loves Fitzgerald. Or is he just under the spell of the Jade Scorpion?
While I liked the movie, I did find the stage-production look and feel to be somewhat disconcerting. The Curse of the Jade Scorpion could easily have been a play, and was acted and motioned as such. But, it's pure 40's screwball, with a jazzy feel and silly, funny dialogue. That makes it one of the better Allen offerings of recent years.
The CEO of the company, Chris Magruder (Dan Ackroyd, "Pearl Harbor"), has hired his mistress, Betty-Ann Fitzgerald (Helen Hunt, "What Women Want") as an efficiency expert to make improvements around the office, but all she really succeeds in doing is irritating and upsetting Briggs, who liked things just the way they were. The two verbally spar ala Tracy and Hepburn (while maintaining Allen's signature style) throughout the film. They're attracted to each other, and yet they despise each other. Allen is his usual bumbling anti-hero self, and Hunt, despite some clunker dialogue, holds her own as the brainy bitch (she says to him, "I'm smarter, faster and I can see right through you -- you're right to feel threatened by me.").
One night, while out on the town with their co-workers, Briggs and Fitzgerald are chosen as volunteers to go onstage with the performing hypnotist Voltan Polgar (David Ogden Stiers, "Tomcats"). Polgar mesmerizes Briggs and Fitzgerald with a jade scorpion on a string, making them think they are deeply in love. The acting and set-up reminded me very much of an Abbott and Costello skit, but it worked. Because Briggs set up the security systems for the wealthy who insure with his company, Polgar keeps the ruse going after the party is over, using the still-hypnotized Briggs to steal jewelry from those rich clients and bring the goods to him. Of course, Briggs remembers nothing afterwards, and he unknowingly winds up chasing the culprit who is actually himself.
Charlize Theron ("Wakin' Up In Reno") and Elizabeth Berkeley ("Becoming Dick") have small roles -- the former a brazen blond bombshell, the latter a pretty but mousy secretary. Needless to say, Briggs is hot after both of them, and needless to say, he beds neither. He's unwittingly saving himself for the woman he really loves Fitzgerald. Or is he just under the spell of the Jade Scorpion?
While I liked the movie, I did find the stage-production look and feel to be somewhat disconcerting. The Curse of the Jade Scorpion could easily have been a play, and was acted and motioned as such. But, it's pure 40's screwball, with a jazzy feel and silly, funny dialogue. That makes it one of the better Allen offerings of recent years.
Ghosts of Mars
(2001)
Out of this world (or should be shuttled out...)
16 August 2001
The title, Ghosts of Mars, pretty much lays it out for you. The plot of the $30 million film is just as modest -- it's a straightforward, no devil-in-the-details kind of action-packed, gloriously gory thriller, set on Mars, 2176 A.D. Human beings live and work on outposts all over the Red Planet, mining it for its valuable natural resources.
Told in a series of flashbacks (and some flashbacks on top of flashbacks), it follows a small squad of police on transport assignment in Shining Canyon, come to claim a dangerous criminal, James "Desolation" Williams (Ice Cube, "Next Friday"), and bring him to justice. Lt. Ballard (Natasha Henstridge, "Species"), her right-hand man Jericho (Jason Statham, "Snatch"), and a young rookie (Clea Duvall, "The Astronaut's Wife"), come upon the scene and make a grim discovery: no more a bustling mining community, Shining Canyon is now a ghost town. But far from the empty, tumble-weed tumbling outposts of yore, this ghost town is filled with horribly mutilated, decapitated bodies. And at night, the "ghosts" come out to look for fresh prey. Despite the death and destruction, there's a task at hand: the squad has come to claim the prisoner, and that they do. But Williams lives up to his dangerous reputation and makes the most of it. Soon, what started as a battle of brains vs. brawn between cop and criminal brings Ballard and Williams together in a fight for survival against Ghosts of Mars, ostensibly led by a horrifying, once-human creature, Big Daddy Mars (Richard Cetrone, "Nemesis II").
The story unfolds to reveal that during the Silver Canyon mining operation the ruins of an ancient civilization were uncovered and disturbed. The ghostly Martian warriors, unleashed as swirling, unstoppable red dust, systematically invaded the bodies of the human intruders. As new humans arrive, they are either decapitated with wicked flying metal disks, or possessed and used to kill others.
It's an interesting idea and could be a scary one, but the low production values, scanty plot and mediocre dialogue dash all hope about 20 minutes into the film. It's a shame, because John Carpenter has real talent -- it's hard to believe the same person is responsible for such gems as Halloween, The Thing, Escape From New York, and Big Trouble in Little China. In my opinion, Carpenter hasn't made a frightening film since 1994's In The Mouth of Madness. (However, he has not lost his chops as a composer -- the soundtrack to Ghosts of Mars is stirring and exciting.) I'm hoping his next film will wow me, because I know he has it in him.
Word has it that after Courtney Love dropped out of the starring Lt. Ballard role, Henstridge was brought in, unprepared, just a few days before shooting. Furthermore, the preproduction schedule was extremely tight (just 8 weeks). It shows. The claustrophobic sets look like leftovers from the 1960s Star Trek TV series, and so many questions are left unanswered you just don't care what happens to anybody.
Ghosts of Mars is definitely chock full of action and is bloodier than a slaughterhouse on a Monday morning, but that's all it is. I read somewhere that in Big Daddy Mars, Carpenter was creating one of his most memorable characters. Character? That's exactly what is missing. Daddy is cool-looking as the menacing, leather-clad and pierced leader, but all his does is kill from afar (he throws the deadly disks). Who was the human that once lived in his body? Who was he in ancient times? Why does he do what he does? Does he think with the human brain, or is he just a mindless, soulless murder machine? Perhaps if we knew some of these things, he would be an actualized, three-dimensional character. As it is, he's just another forgettable celluloid slasher. The acting was good and the action moves right along, but without an engaging story all you have is a ghost of a movie.
Told in a series of flashbacks (and some flashbacks on top of flashbacks), it follows a small squad of police on transport assignment in Shining Canyon, come to claim a dangerous criminal, James "Desolation" Williams (Ice Cube, "Next Friday"), and bring him to justice. Lt. Ballard (Natasha Henstridge, "Species"), her right-hand man Jericho (Jason Statham, "Snatch"), and a young rookie (Clea Duvall, "The Astronaut's Wife"), come upon the scene and make a grim discovery: no more a bustling mining community, Shining Canyon is now a ghost town. But far from the empty, tumble-weed tumbling outposts of yore, this ghost town is filled with horribly mutilated, decapitated bodies. And at night, the "ghosts" come out to look for fresh prey. Despite the death and destruction, there's a task at hand: the squad has come to claim the prisoner, and that they do. But Williams lives up to his dangerous reputation and makes the most of it. Soon, what started as a battle of brains vs. brawn between cop and criminal brings Ballard and Williams together in a fight for survival against Ghosts of Mars, ostensibly led by a horrifying, once-human creature, Big Daddy Mars (Richard Cetrone, "Nemesis II").
The story unfolds to reveal that during the Silver Canyon mining operation the ruins of an ancient civilization were uncovered and disturbed. The ghostly Martian warriors, unleashed as swirling, unstoppable red dust, systematically invaded the bodies of the human intruders. As new humans arrive, they are either decapitated with wicked flying metal disks, or possessed and used to kill others.
It's an interesting idea and could be a scary one, but the low production values, scanty plot and mediocre dialogue dash all hope about 20 minutes into the film. It's a shame, because John Carpenter has real talent -- it's hard to believe the same person is responsible for such gems as Halloween, The Thing, Escape From New York, and Big Trouble in Little China. In my opinion, Carpenter hasn't made a frightening film since 1994's In The Mouth of Madness. (However, he has not lost his chops as a composer -- the soundtrack to Ghosts of Mars is stirring and exciting.) I'm hoping his next film will wow me, because I know he has it in him.
Word has it that after Courtney Love dropped out of the starring Lt. Ballard role, Henstridge was brought in, unprepared, just a few days before shooting. Furthermore, the preproduction schedule was extremely tight (just 8 weeks). It shows. The claustrophobic sets look like leftovers from the 1960s Star Trek TV series, and so many questions are left unanswered you just don't care what happens to anybody.
Ghosts of Mars is definitely chock full of action and is bloodier than a slaughterhouse on a Monday morning, but that's all it is. I read somewhere that in Big Daddy Mars, Carpenter was creating one of his most memorable characters. Character? That's exactly what is missing. Daddy is cool-looking as the menacing, leather-clad and pierced leader, but all his does is kill from afar (he throws the deadly disks). Who was the human that once lived in his body? Who was he in ancient times? Why does he do what he does? Does he think with the human brain, or is he just a mindless, soulless murder machine? Perhaps if we knew some of these things, he would be an actualized, three-dimensional character. As it is, he's just another forgettable celluloid slasher. The acting was good and the action moves right along, but without an engaging story all you have is a ghost of a movie.
Waking Up in Reno
(2002)
A Worthy Roadside Attraction
16 August 2001
Wakin' up in Reno refers to more than just the alarm clock when two married couples take a road trip -- and an unexpected emotional detour -- from their home town of Little Rock to the "Biggest Little City in the World" for a monster truck rally. Roy (Patrick Swayze, "Forever Lulu") and Candy (Charlize Theron, "Sweet November") tag along with their best friends Lonnie Earl (Billy Bob Thornton, "The Gift") and Darlene (Natasha Richardson, "Blow Dry"), picking up a brand new SUV from the dealership that Lonnie Earl owns, and head off for the wild blue yonder. They're armed with a AAA Trip Tik, which is animated onscreen from time to time as we follow the bouncing auto from point to point on its way out west. Along the way, they stop at a few roadside attractions -- but only the ones Lonnie Earl wants to see, because he's got to keep to their schedule. This is very important to him, even after he eats a 72-ounce steak and winds up in the emergency room. Meanwhile, Candy is ovulating and Roy's got to accommodate her whenever her temperature drops to that magic number. Little does he know, Lonnie Earl may have already planted his seed before they left home. Lonnie Earl's wife, Darlene, doesn't know either -- but you think she might not care, as she hasn't let her husband touch her for the past two years.
This is a pretty simple story and there isn't a lot going on, but it's well directed, and particularly well written and well acted. It all comes together beautifully, and the four actors are completely believable in their could-be country caricature roles. Lonnie Earl's got the Van-Dyke look going on, complete with snakeskin cowboy boots and his faux snakeskin shirt, and Darlene starts off bumpkin-geek with her overalls and badly bleached hair. She later goes babe-chic when she takes the cheating Lonnie Earl's credit card, raids the expensive designer boutiques, and treats herself to a Tony Orlando concert. While none of the characters have especially good qualities, the actors who portray them make them likable and relatable.
While the subject matter is serious, Wakin' Up In Reno is played (mostly) for laughs, and there are plenty of them. It's too bad it's only getting a limited release, as this is one of the smartest, funniest adult comedies I've seen in awhile.
This is a pretty simple story and there isn't a lot going on, but it's well directed, and particularly well written and well acted. It all comes together beautifully, and the four actors are completely believable in their could-be country caricature roles. Lonnie Earl's got the Van-Dyke look going on, complete with snakeskin cowboy boots and his faux snakeskin shirt, and Darlene starts off bumpkin-geek with her overalls and badly bleached hair. She later goes babe-chic when she takes the cheating Lonnie Earl's credit card, raids the expensive designer boutiques, and treats herself to a Tony Orlando concert. While none of the characters have especially good qualities, the actors who portray them make them likable and relatable.
While the subject matter is serious, Wakin' Up In Reno is played (mostly) for laughs, and there are plenty of them. It's too bad it's only getting a limited release, as this is one of the smartest, funniest adult comedies I've seen in awhile.
Original Sin
(2001)
Laugh out loud funny!
2 August 2001
Original Sin is one the most laugh-out-loud funny movies I've seen all year. However, it's not being billed as a comedy by the studio.
First of all, you have to buy into the fact that a man who looks like Antonio Banderas needs a mail-order bride. Then, you have to believe that the woman who responds to such an advertisement in turn looks like Angelina Jolie.
Original Sin is based upon Cornell Woolrich's ("Rear Window") novel, Waltz Into Darkness, which Francois Truffaut adapted in 1969 and titled Mississippi Mermaid. It starred Jean-Paul Belmondo as a tobacco planter whose mail-order bride, played by Catherine Deneuve, turns out to be an impostor. This time around, the steamy story is adapted and directed by Michael Cristofer, who helped poise Jolie for stardom in the HBO-flick, Gia.
In Original Sin, Banderas ("Spy Kids") is Luis Vargas, a 19th century Cuban coffee mogul, and Jolie ("Tomb Raider") is Julia Russell, a young American who wants to make a change in her life. She steps off the boat, pouting and vamping, and affecting a Madonnaesque English accent for no apparent reason. Just hours later, the couple are wed. Extreme close-ups on naked bodies, smoldering brown eyes, massive lips, and arty post-coital contortions follow (I was looking for the game of Twister under the sheets, but didn't see those telltale colored dots).
Before long, the bride not only steals his heart, she cleans out the joint bank account and disappears (pouting and vamping as she goes). Luis begins to suspect that perhaps his bride isn't who he thought she was after all. American PI Walter Downs (Thomas Jane, "Deep Blue Sea") shows up to investigate at the behest of the real Julia's sister, Emily. Luis decides that, since he can't live without his conniving wife, he wants to be the one to kill her. So he hires Downs, too (even though he only has $11 left in his bank account). But instead of killing her, he ends up killing *for* her. (When Banderas says, with an admirably straight face, "I have killed for her. And I would do it again," I felt like raising my hand, "Me, me! Pick me!")
The dialogue is so corny, I kept looking for a Niblets product placement. I think I got Jello instead, when one of Julia's would-be suitors, standing outside her bedroom door as she undresses, declares, "My heart is pudding. I will go, but my pudding is all broken!" Of course, this screenplay *does* come from the same man who wrote this dialogue for Gia: "I do be da pittiest pittiest girl, I do be dat."
The cinematography is under-lit and as one-dimensional as the screen, at times blending the actors' heads into the dark backgrounds. Not only do the actors fade into the woodwork (maybe they were *trying* to), Jolie actually looks flat-chested. That's a mean feat. In addition, Banderas's pores were bigger than life and the bulging veins in Jolie's hands, arms and forehead were so blue, I checked my press kit to see if the makeup was by Stan Winston. The loud, irritating soundtrack is upstaged only by some of the oddest editing I have ever seen, jam-packed with jump-cuts, step-zooms, blurry pans, incongruous dolly shots, and floating crane perspectives. The only wannabe arty shot I *didn't* see was "kitchen-sink."
Prior to seeing Original Sin (which was supposed to come out in November of last year, then February... for some reason, can't imagine why, this film's release was repeatedly delayed), I read that Jolie's brother, James Haven, would be appearing onscreen. I looked and looked, then concluded that unless he was Banderas's body-double for the love scenes, he wasn't in it. I waited for the end credits and saw that he played a masked character in the stage-play scene. He probably took one look at the dailies and volunteered for that role. He's smarter than I thought.
But kudos have to go to Jolie and Banderas -- who allow themselves to have their mouths spat into and be mano-a-mano soul-kissed, respectively -- for fully immersing themselves in this tawdry tete-a-tete and for playing their roles to their fullest folly (while pouting and vamping, of course).
I don't know if Original Sin will become a contemporary camp classic like Showgirls, but there is nothing original in it and the only sin is, this movie was finally released. At any rate, if you decide to shell out your hard-earned dough, you will certainly keep watching to see what outright outrageousness will be thrust upon you next.
The original sin was murder -- and so is this movie!
First of all, you have to buy into the fact that a man who looks like Antonio Banderas needs a mail-order bride. Then, you have to believe that the woman who responds to such an advertisement in turn looks like Angelina Jolie.
Original Sin is based upon Cornell Woolrich's ("Rear Window") novel, Waltz Into Darkness, which Francois Truffaut adapted in 1969 and titled Mississippi Mermaid. It starred Jean-Paul Belmondo as a tobacco planter whose mail-order bride, played by Catherine Deneuve, turns out to be an impostor. This time around, the steamy story is adapted and directed by Michael Cristofer, who helped poise Jolie for stardom in the HBO-flick, Gia.
In Original Sin, Banderas ("Spy Kids") is Luis Vargas, a 19th century Cuban coffee mogul, and Jolie ("Tomb Raider") is Julia Russell, a young American who wants to make a change in her life. She steps off the boat, pouting and vamping, and affecting a Madonnaesque English accent for no apparent reason. Just hours later, the couple are wed. Extreme close-ups on naked bodies, smoldering brown eyes, massive lips, and arty post-coital contortions follow (I was looking for the game of Twister under the sheets, but didn't see those telltale colored dots).
Before long, the bride not only steals his heart, she cleans out the joint bank account and disappears (pouting and vamping as she goes). Luis begins to suspect that perhaps his bride isn't who he thought she was after all. American PI Walter Downs (Thomas Jane, "Deep Blue Sea") shows up to investigate at the behest of the real Julia's sister, Emily. Luis decides that, since he can't live without his conniving wife, he wants to be the one to kill her. So he hires Downs, too (even though he only has $11 left in his bank account). But instead of killing her, he ends up killing *for* her. (When Banderas says, with an admirably straight face, "I have killed for her. And I would do it again," I felt like raising my hand, "Me, me! Pick me!")
The dialogue is so corny, I kept looking for a Niblets product placement. I think I got Jello instead, when one of Julia's would-be suitors, standing outside her bedroom door as she undresses, declares, "My heart is pudding. I will go, but my pudding is all broken!" Of course, this screenplay *does* come from the same man who wrote this dialogue for Gia: "I do be da pittiest pittiest girl, I do be dat."
The cinematography is under-lit and as one-dimensional as the screen, at times blending the actors' heads into the dark backgrounds. Not only do the actors fade into the woodwork (maybe they were *trying* to), Jolie actually looks flat-chested. That's a mean feat. In addition, Banderas's pores were bigger than life and the bulging veins in Jolie's hands, arms and forehead were so blue, I checked my press kit to see if the makeup was by Stan Winston. The loud, irritating soundtrack is upstaged only by some of the oddest editing I have ever seen, jam-packed with jump-cuts, step-zooms, blurry pans, incongruous dolly shots, and floating crane perspectives. The only wannabe arty shot I *didn't* see was "kitchen-sink."
Prior to seeing Original Sin (which was supposed to come out in November of last year, then February... for some reason, can't imagine why, this film's release was repeatedly delayed), I read that Jolie's brother, James Haven, would be appearing onscreen. I looked and looked, then concluded that unless he was Banderas's body-double for the love scenes, he wasn't in it. I waited for the end credits and saw that he played a masked character in the stage-play scene. He probably took one look at the dailies and volunteered for that role. He's smarter than I thought.
But kudos have to go to Jolie and Banderas -- who allow themselves to have their mouths spat into and be mano-a-mano soul-kissed, respectively -- for fully immersing themselves in this tawdry tete-a-tete and for playing their roles to their fullest folly (while pouting and vamping, of course).
I don't know if Original Sin will become a contemporary camp classic like Showgirls, but there is nothing original in it and the only sin is, this movie was finally released. At any rate, if you decide to shell out your hard-earned dough, you will certainly keep watching to see what outright outrageousness will be thrust upon you next.
The original sin was murder -- and so is this movie!
Planet of the Apes
(2001)
Damn Dirty Remakes!
26 July 2001
Damn dirty remakes!
Ooops. Don't call it a remake. Director Tim Burton (Sleepy Hollow) prefers words such as "reenergizing," "reimagining," or "reinventing." He even went so far as to request of Fox Studios that the name of the movie be changed to The Visitor. That request was vetoed, as well as the hot monkey love scene between ape and human that was in the original "reinventing" of the 1968 sci-fi classic (which was written by Rod Serling, based upon a much-lauded novel by Pierre Boulle). In this version, Mark Wahlberg (A Perfect Storm) plays the Charlton Heston role, sans loincloth (nope, not what you're hoping for ladies -- Marky-Mark insisted on being fully clothed from head to toe here). He's Leo Davidson, an astronaut who crash-lands on the mysterious, dangerous planet inhabited and ruled with an iron paw by intelligent apes. Helena Bonham-Carter (Fight Club) plays Ari, the "human rights activist" type chimp who risks her life to help the astronaut, and buxom blonde Estella Warren (Driven) completes the strange, almost love triangle. Tim Roth (Lucky Numbers), who excels in playing the villain, goes bananas here with furry malice as the militant human-hater, Thade. I'm reluctant to use the word disappointment here (I'm sure Burton could help me come up with a more imaginative one), and I wouldn't were this not a Tim Burton Film. I hold him to a higher standard than I do most other directors, and I was expecting to see his quirky stamp all over this movie. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. The landscapes and overall look of the film are relatively Burtonesque (thanks to his Sleepy Hollow production designer, Rick Heinrichs and the excellent cinematographer Philippe Rousselot, who is a first-timer to the Burton camp). But the feel of the movie, the heart of it, was not what I have come to expect from Burton. Had this version of Planet of the Apes come out by any other director, I would have judged it less harshly. The ape makeup, aside from the too-glamorous females, is expertly done by Rick Baker, who is no stranger to the celluloid simian. He did the makeup effects for Gorillas in the Mist and Mighty Joe Young. I predict he'll be at least nominated for an Academy Award for his work on Planet of the Apes. The atmosphere of this film is darkly fantastic -- from the makeup, to Danny Elfman's score, to Heinrichs' sets -- it's just too bad the atmosphere does nothing more than shroud a pretty standard story and stock characters. There was some cheesy dialog and tired stunts (for example, a young boy who insists on fighting against the ape army is pinned beneath his horse -- for no apparent reason -- as the enemy closes in upon him. Don't even bother wondering how horses evolved on the planet from the original stock of apes and humans.). Don't get me wrong: Planet of the Apes is definitely a worthy popcorn flick, and will surely be one of this summer's biggest blockbusters. The money is all up there on the screen (Burton wriggles out of saying just how much by stating it cost "More than X-Men, less than Titanic"). There's great action and super-exciting chases and battle scenes, and the actors are fine despite the fact their characters are pretty one-dimensional (the most fully-realized character is Bonham-Carter's, though her Cosmo-ape looks threw me off a bit). Perhaps the most engaging roles are the cameos: Lisa Marie is the sexy chimp trophy-wife of an orangutan senator, and Charlton Heston makes a memorable appearance saying the word "damn" as only he can, and holding a gun. Overall, I recommend Planet of the Apes for fun. Just don't expect anything more than a remake (sorry, Tim).
Ooops. Don't call it a remake. Director Tim Burton (Sleepy Hollow) prefers words such as "reenergizing," "reimagining," or "reinventing." He even went so far as to request of Fox Studios that the name of the movie be changed to The Visitor. That request was vetoed, as well as the hot monkey love scene between ape and human that was in the original "reinventing" of the 1968 sci-fi classic (which was written by Rod Serling, based upon a much-lauded novel by Pierre Boulle). In this version, Mark Wahlberg (A Perfect Storm) plays the Charlton Heston role, sans loincloth (nope, not what you're hoping for ladies -- Marky-Mark insisted on being fully clothed from head to toe here). He's Leo Davidson, an astronaut who crash-lands on the mysterious, dangerous planet inhabited and ruled with an iron paw by intelligent apes. Helena Bonham-Carter (Fight Club) plays Ari, the "human rights activist" type chimp who risks her life to help the astronaut, and buxom blonde Estella Warren (Driven) completes the strange, almost love triangle. Tim Roth (Lucky Numbers), who excels in playing the villain, goes bananas here with furry malice as the militant human-hater, Thade. I'm reluctant to use the word disappointment here (I'm sure Burton could help me come up with a more imaginative one), and I wouldn't were this not a Tim Burton Film. I hold him to a higher standard than I do most other directors, and I was expecting to see his quirky stamp all over this movie. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. The landscapes and overall look of the film are relatively Burtonesque (thanks to his Sleepy Hollow production designer, Rick Heinrichs and the excellent cinematographer Philippe Rousselot, who is a first-timer to the Burton camp). But the feel of the movie, the heart of it, was not what I have come to expect from Burton. Had this version of Planet of the Apes come out by any other director, I would have judged it less harshly. The ape makeup, aside from the too-glamorous females, is expertly done by Rick Baker, who is no stranger to the celluloid simian. He did the makeup effects for Gorillas in the Mist and Mighty Joe Young. I predict he'll be at least nominated for an Academy Award for his work on Planet of the Apes. The atmosphere of this film is darkly fantastic -- from the makeup, to Danny Elfman's score, to Heinrichs' sets -- it's just too bad the atmosphere does nothing more than shroud a pretty standard story and stock characters. There was some cheesy dialog and tired stunts (for example, a young boy who insists on fighting against the ape army is pinned beneath his horse -- for no apparent reason -- as the enemy closes in upon him. Don't even bother wondering how horses evolved on the planet from the original stock of apes and humans.). Don't get me wrong: Planet of the Apes is definitely a worthy popcorn flick, and will surely be one of this summer's biggest blockbusters. The money is all up there on the screen (Burton wriggles out of saying just how much by stating it cost "More than X-Men, less than Titanic"). There's great action and super-exciting chases and battle scenes, and the actors are fine despite the fact their characters are pretty one-dimensional (the most fully-realized character is Bonham-Carter's, though her Cosmo-ape looks threw me off a bit). Perhaps the most engaging roles are the cameos: Lisa Marie is the sexy chimp trophy-wife of an orangutan senator, and Charlton Heston makes a memorable appearance saying the word "damn" as only he can, and holding a gun. Overall, I recommend Planet of the Apes for fun. Just don't expect anything more than a remake (sorry, Tim).
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