|
Film Clips
Reviews by Ian Caruth, James DiGiovanna, Linsay Hernon and Jennifer Nichols
ALONG CAME A SPIDER. Adapted from a James Patterson novel from the same series as Kiss the Girls, this film finds Morgan Freeman reprising his role as detective Alex Cross. A botched sting operation killing his partner sends Cross into a tailspin, but when a senator's 12-year-old daughter is kidnapped the remorseful dick is put back on the job. Michael Wincott plays a criminal psychopath who poses as a teacher of pubescent computer hackers at a well-to-do private school when his actual objective is to commit the crime of the century, surpassing even the Lindbergh baby tragedy. Despite a moderate rise of intensity and Freeman's screen-stealing performance, the unpolished plot creates a tangled web of unconvincing twists with expedient conclusions and enough loose ends to leave even a spider hanging. --Hernon
AMORES PERROS. This Mexican nominee for Best Foreign Language Film lost to Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but it's a much smarter, more original film, and it's every bit as entertaining as the kung fu flick that defeated it. Weaving together three stories of difficult love, Amores Perros pays homage to Tarantino's Pulp Fiction without being just another derivative imitation. Plus it features convincing acting, engaging plotting and lots of pretty, fluffy dogs. Just like all the great movies used to do. --DiGiovanna
BLOW. Blow had one of the best trailers I'd seen in years: stylish, fast paced, featuring Johnny Depp's beautiful face and arresting imagery of piles of money and cocaine. Well, in brief, you might want to wait for Blow to come out on video, and then just rent the trailer. It's your basic life-of-crime-doesn't-pay story, with Depp starring as real-life coke dealer George Jung. OK, so maybe crime doesn't always pay, but sometimes it pays, and when it does, it pays big, man! Look at Stalin or Clinton or Bush! These guys had it made! I just wish someone would make a movie about a drug deal gone right, after which the dealers walk off into the sunset richer and happier than all their loser friends who went into accounting or veterinary medicine. You know, so the kids will understand what life's all about. --DiGiovanna
BRIDGET JONES'S DIARY. In adapting Helen Fielding's hugely popular novel to the big screen, rookie director Sharon Maguire doesn't break any new ground. Mostly disposing with the diary format of the book and focusing more on Bridget's two-man troubles than her interactions with friends or any other self-improvement measures, BJ'sD looks on the surface like just about any other romantic comedy, albeit one refreshingly free of felonious stalking behavior. So why does it work so much better than most other movies of the genre? Crack screenwriter Richard Curtis (Four Weddings and a Funeral, the BBC's sublime Blackadder) has a lot to do with the film's success; his sharp dialogue keeps things percolating, even through several unlikely plot twists. But here it is the leads who carry the movie: Renee Zellweger plays the plucky Bridget with commendable sensitivity, seeming hopeful and rather touchingly insecure but never shrill, while Hugh Grant is typically memorable playing a slightly more caddish variation on the Dashing Fop character he's perfected. Funny, charming and ever so delightfully British, BJ'sD succeeds in every respect that the similarly themed Someone Like You failed. Keep a lookout for the most inexplicable cameo ever from a fatwah recipient. --Caruth
CHOCOLAT. Lasse Hallström directs this simple fable of the chocolate-peddling gypsy Vianne (Juliette Binoche), who spends her life liberalizing the lives of conservative villagers in the French countryside. Daughter in tow, she sets up chocolate shops and single-handedly unlocks the hidden desires of the religious townsfolk with the magic of the cocoa seed. Once her cautious, god-fearing neighbors get a taste of her homemade chocolate confections, the people begin to come alive and abandon their assumption that Vianne is the devil incarnate. Remembering that this is told in the confines of a fairy tale, the tints of magical realism and the fight against mediocrity are charming, if not mouth-wateringly sweet. Lena Olin, Alfred Molina, Judi Dench and Johnny Depp provide caricatures of fear and love that play out as nicely as the indulgent delights cooked up in the Mayan kitchen. --Nichols
CROCODILE DUNDEE IN LOS ANGELES. This unnecessary third installment of the Australian bushman meets the big bad city routine stars Paul Hogan as the familiar crocodile hunter. He travels to Los Angeles with Mick Dundee junior and his wife when she is asked to fill in at Daddy's big wig newspaper company. Though the city is different this time, the trials with technology are still the same as the naïve Aussie gets a lesson on the revolutionary drive-thru invention, the wonders of a coffee enema and a country bar of drag queens. This run of the mill mockery of opposite lifestyles eventually leads Mick to the middle of a lame fine art smuggling operation at a film studio which he single-handedly must stop in a funhouse-like finale. This stale sequel offers no fresh thoughts or situations, and the only laugh is from a meditation teacher, but this ironic surprise cameo hardly makes this film worthwhile. --Hernon
CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON. Variety magazine used to refer to martial arts movies as "chop socky flicks." Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon would, then, be a really big chop socky flick. It's got all the cheesy, goofball stuff you'd expect from the Taiwanese kung-fu movies of the '70s, but with an enormous budget to back it up. Chow Yun Fat stars as a master of the Wudan school of martial arts. The big bonus to being a Wudan master is that you can fly, which is the kind of thing that looks great on a big screen, especially if the characters are flying over misty Chinese landscapes while fighting with ancient, magical swords. Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is big-time fun, but don't go expecting to see Citizen Kane. This is more like a Saturday-morning cartoon raised to the level of Wagnerian opera, with all the amusement and stupidity that are found so abundantly in both of those art forms. --DiGiovanna
CUT. Former Brat Packer Molly Ringwald leads a cast of nameless actors with kindergarten talent in this predictable fast-food combo version of a Scream and Urban Legends. When a lame slasher flick with a grainy '50's look goes unfinished because a sick psychopath killed off the crew during a rampant decapitating spree, a group of pubescent film students become obsessed with finishing the cursed classic twelve years later. The future Wes Cravens hire the film's original star, a forgotten prima donna who managed to survive the initial blood splattering kill fest (Ringwald). Yet, to no surprise, the masked murderer returns to the film set in his cheap silly putty disguise to slay each ignorant victim one by one. Will there be any survivors this time? Who cares. Will anyone else go to see this movie besides me? Probably not. --Hernon
ENEMY AT THE GATES. Director Jean-Jacques Annaud depicts the realities of war through bullets, bombs and blood in the muddy trenches of Stalingrad as the Russians battle Nazi Germany in 1942. In the midst of the guns and the gore is the acclaimed Russian sniper Vassili Zaitsev, played perfectly by Jude Law, who instills hope in his country by using his cunning ways to capture his nemesis, Major Konig of the Third Reich (Ed Harris). The two run through the rubble in the dismal, cold winter for an intense game of predator versus prey, in an epic saga that rings true victory. --Hernon
EXIT WOUNDS. It's the same old testosterone-filled story: dirty cops, naked beauties, drug smugglers and a hot-shot cop all tangled up in high-speed chases, rapid gunfire and flagrant fights. Steven Seagal stars as a delinquent Secret Service agent who, after getting demoted, is sentenced to rage-aholic group therapy and traffic duty, where he soon finds himself in the middle of a covert drug heist. A car-crazy drug lord (DMX) leads the muscle-bound thugs and crooked cops through inane plot twists (which somehow manage to include the always-annoying Tom Arnold as a moronic talk show host) culminating in the inevitable showdown. The weekend polls calculated this recycled dribble as being number one at the box office, but what they did not calculate were the audiences rushing toward the exit, wounds or not. --Hernon
HANNIBAL. This is sort of like one of those classic Disney films of the '30s and '40s, where magical fairies dance about in glittering landscapes, eating the flesh of their still-living victims. You know, like Snow White and The Seven Horrible, Cannibalistic Dwarves, or Kill, Bambi, Kill! Anthony Hopkins plays Hannibal, an irascible scamp who loves classical music, fine art and evil. Gary Oldman plays his rival, the cute little horribly deformed man who wants only to gambol about and feed Hannibal to the three little pigs. Well, more like two dozen flesh-eating hogs. Julianne Moore plays Clarice Starling, who's kind of like the Good Woodsman who comes to help out when Red Riding Hood is captured by the evil wolf who wants to force her to eat her own brains. Or it could be that the Disney films they showed me in the vicious torture gardens where I was raised were slightly different than those released to the world at large. Anyway, Hannibal shares with those films a glacially slow pace that is only slightly enlivened by the adorable scenes of cute, fluffy, hugable murders and mutilations. --DiGiovanna
HEARTBREAKERS. A couple of dirty rotten scoundrels in stiletto heels and wonder bras take their sexy schemes to Palm Beach for one final score in this zany comedy by sophomore director David Mirkin (Romy and Michele's High School Reunion.) Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love-Hewitt star as the mother-daughter deceiving duo that seduces wealthy naïve men, only to walk away later with a steep divorce settlement. Gene Hackman plays their latest foolish fat cat, a chain-smoking, phlegm-filled old fogy in fluorescent green socks. Soon a Mob boss wannabe, a love-struck beach bar owner, a Nurse Ratched of the 21st century and a stone phallus get thrown into this kooky conundrum of cons. It will not break your heart, but it will make you laugh. --Hernon
JOE DIRT. Since the dawning of man's realization of his own mortality, art has struggled to create something eternal and universal, bridging the gaps of time, solitude and death to reach the empyrean and touch the face of God, thereby to find the familiarity of one's own face. Perhaps the apex of human artistic endeavor, Joe Dirt depicts the human struggle unflinchingly, showing us alone, poised on the cusp of the Grand Canyon of the soul, keening for our kind. Who among us has not been Joe Dirt? Standing proud, mullet-feathered and majestic, covered in feces from the septic tanks strapped to his back, the parentless Joe Dirt is an existential Everyman. Knowing not from whence he came, nor to where he is going, his search for identity is complicated, like ours, by unthinkable choices and unanswerable questions. Should we have relations with our sister? Should we get our 426 Hemi out of hock? Should we search for our parents, and, if so, will they sell ceramic clowns? These questions and more are answered in the haunting, unforgettable Joe Dirt. Also features Kid Rock. --Caruth
JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS. Ever wonder what regulates the popularity of certain brands, or why Nike sneakers are considered "in," and Keds are not? Well, this live-action adaptation of the popular comic strip answers those questions as three bubblegum Spice Girl-ettes enter a trend-setting Twilight Zone. Triggered by their own encrypted tunes, they embark on a grand scale conspiracy involving everyone from an emotionally scarred prom queen wannabe with a vengeance to the Moviefone man. Parker Posey plays the psychopathic CEO of the covert operation behind a Mega Records façade who laces the music of her latest unsuspecting new talent with pop culture exploits and self-promoting propaganda. The commentary on society's Pez dispenser mentality, the caricatures of adolescent rock stars and the catnip type of spunk of the trio help generate this lighthearted feline flick. --Hernon
KALAMA SUTTA. A feature in the Arizona Film Festival's Premiere Showcase, Kalama Sutta: Seeing Is Believing is Holly Fisher's documentary about human rights violations in Burma and the international media's effect on the indigenous peoples' struggles for democracy. Layering interviews, news footage, clips from the internet, and video the filmmaker shot in Burma while posing as a tour operator, Kalama Sutta sustains a deeply affecting tone of sadness and frustration when discussing the atrocities committed against the Burmese by the ruling military dictatorship, but tends to become unfocused when the focus shifts to media critique. In a particularly pointed moment, a Burmese activist asks the audience how one can capture the slow death of an entire people with a camera; in several momentum-stalling moments, Fisher fills the screen with close-ups of a flickering computer monitor, one of the least compelling filmic images yet found. Flawed but amibtious and often heart-wrenching, Kalama Sutta is more notable for its effect on its audience than its technical precision. --Caruth
KINGDOM COME. Writers David Dean Bottrell and Jessie Jones deliver this adaptation of their stage production, Deadly Departed, wherein everyone has a problem, not just the dead man wearing ballet slippers. When a patriarch of an African American family suddenly dies, relatives convene to pay their respects. A short-tempered, jealous wife with a pom-pom hairdo; a preaching know-it-all dressed in her Sunday best; a recovering alcoholic; a Reverend with a lisp; and a junk food-munching mute are just a few of the characters that clutter the screen with their overly dramatic corndog-fueled debates over coffins and cash. Despite the star-studded cast including Whoopi Goldberg, LL Cool J and Loretta Devine, this over-the-top, cliché-riddled comedy plays like a 90-minute sitcom in which all problems are remedied neatly in the end. Kingdom Come comes a cropper. --Hernon
THE LOW DOWN. A very interesting failure, The Low Down is a standard love story told in an extremely non-standard manner. Freeze frames, jump cuts, disconnected dialogue and seemingly randomized scene transitions make parts of this film deeply entertaining, but the tricks wear out before the film does, and there's only about 45 minutes of good material in this 90-minute movie. Worth watching for cinema enthusiasts, as it shows where the Nouvelle Vague of the '60s could have gone, but probably not for the standard moviegoer, unless the standard moviegoer is mildly narcotized. --DiGiovanna
MEMENTO. A very sly film that begins at the end and moves backwards to the middle, never quite reaching the beginning. The visually stunning Guy Pearce stars as a man who has no capacity to form new memories, so he tattoos information on his body, leaves himself notes, and attempts, through a set of cryptic communiqués to himself, to get revenge on the man who murdered his wife. There are layers of irony in this well-constructed noir, not the least of which is that it requires a great deal of memory on the audience's part to piece the story together. Although ultimately it's more puzzle than movie, it's still riveting and has that rare feature of assuming that its audience is more intelligent than the average rhesus monkey. Well, more intelligent than the average rhesus monkey that hasn't taken the super-monkey serum. --DiGiovanna
SOMEONE LIKE YOU. Perhaps the only interesting thing about this estrogen-drenched, singularly anti-male screed is that it was directed by Tony Goldwyn, who's made a career out of playing the sorts of duplicitous slimeball men (albeit often more murderous ones) who entirely populate this film's universe. Ashley Judd plays a recently jilted woman who devises the uncharmingly sexist theory that all men are exactly alike; like bulls on dairy farms, they reject previous sexual conquests--in the film's lexicon, "old cows"--and calculatingly make advances on new women, who are dubbed "new cows." The comedy goes much, much further; see, Judd's character is named "Jane Goodale," and get this: She thinks men are animals, and decides to study them and write about their habits! This film may be appealing to dumpees who run toward the bitter, vindictive end of the scale, or perhaps cliché-lovers--Judd's character goes straight for the Haagen-Dazs when she gets dumped--but anyone seeking entertainment or, I don't know, an even-handed, thoughtful look at human emotion better look elsewhere. --Caruth
SPY KIDS. Guns-and-gore writer/director Robert Rodriguez switches gears with this Crayola-colored conglomeration of James Bond and Pee Wee Herman. Fegan Floop, a demonic Willy Wonka of children's television, sips fluorescent green goop soup, creates new cartoon characters with silly putty, and organizes to take over the world with his dreaded thumb-thumb robots and an army of super-powered spy kids. Yet have no fear, because to the rescue come a couple of charismatic children of international secret agents, who have become POWs of the maniacal villain. Though the special effects and acting are of a kindergarten quality, the imaginative display of futuristic gizmos and the crime-fighting kids are sure to boost any child's interest and confidence. --Hernon
THE TAILOR OF PANAMA. Seemingly harmless lies lead to war in this intricate plot adapted from John LeCarre's 1996 novel of blackmail, political backlash and espionage. Geoffrey Rush plays an ex-con and gifted tailor. When a vulgar British Intelligence agent (Pierce Brosnan) is exiled to Panama to ensure that the Panama Canal returns to American possession, the needle and thread man concocts a tall tale of an Anti-Noriega Resistance. However, the naïve informant quickly gets in over his head as he compromises the safety of his close friends, ignites the beginnings of an international war and betrays his wife, a Panamanian government agent. Although the Central American country is portrayed as a cesspool of corruption, poverty and prostitution, and Brosnan is anything but his usual classy Bondian self, the complex plot is sewn together with seamless ingenuity. --Hernon
TRAFFIC. Today's war on drugs is taken to the front lines with a Magnolia storytelling style and a Three Kings look. From the straight-shooting American police officer (Don Cheadle) to the no-holds-barred drug-busting Mexican cop (Benicio del Toro), and from the chic country-club wife of a drug-smuggling thug to the law-enforcing anti-drug czar (Michael Douglas) and his crack-smoking daughter, writer Stephen Gaghan candidly presents all sides to this never-ending battle. --Hernon
|
 |
