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Film Clips
Reviews by Gene Armstrong, James DiGiovanna and Linsay Hernon.
BLOOD WORK. After appearing in 44 films and directing 23, Clint Eastwood apparently now just goes through the motions, as the rest of the cast and crew does here in this dimwitted adaptation of Michael Connelly's novel. When an over-the-hill detective--played by Eastwood, who has developed a rather noticeable chin waddle--attempts to apprehend a wanted criminal, the only arrest that is made is a cardiac one. Only two months after the aging dick collapses from this heart attack and receives an emergency heart transplant, the senior citizen miraculously can chase killers, solve crimes and dodge bullets once again, just as long as he touches his chest every now and again to convince us in the possibility of such a speedy recovery. To add some intentional comic relief in the already laughable script, Jeff Daniels co-stars as the harmonica playing boat bum hired as the Driving Miss Daisy paid in beer. Now there's action and comedy, what about sappy emotional cheese? This bogus dilemma is solved by the soap opera quality acting and fabricated romance that is just as contrived as the underdeveloped and disjointed clues which we are supposed to eat up just because Mr. Dirty Harry says so. Blood Work is some rather bland work. --Hernon
BLUE CRUSH. Would it be too hokey to call this entertaining final-days-of-summer flick as refreshing as a face full of sea mist? Maybe, but so be it. Not unlike a Gidget Goes Girl Power, this charmingly modest film--directed by John Stockwell, on the heels of his Crazy/Beautiful--concerns three surfing pals who live for the waves and who just happen to be young, attractive women. Budding blonde star of the moment Kate Bosworth plays Anne Marie, who hangs 10 with roomies Michelle Rodriquez (Girlfight) and Sanoe Lake. Tucson actress Mika Boorem plays Anne Marie's little sister. The Maui-based wave-crashing action is exciting and photogenic, and, duh, so are the women. Amid this summer of high-tech chases, big-time explosions and record-breaking box office, the fact that the major plot conflict in this movie comes down to something as simple and dramatic as a surfing contest is, well, refreshing. --Armstrong
CITY BY THE SEA. It's the compelling cop drama of NYPD Blue without the bare butts and shaky camera work, and the dysfunctional family of Roseanne without the controversial comedienne and her gyrating voice in this intense and witty biopic of Vincent LaMarca based on a 1997 Esquire Magazine article by Pulitzer Prize winner, Michael McAlay. Robert DeNiro stars as, you guessed it, a New York homicide detective whose troubled past catches up with him when the prime suspect in a murder case turns out to be his drug-addicted, street-walking estranged son (James Franco). Director Michael Caton-Jones skillfully juxtaposes a decadent family with a deteriorated city, as one steadily is restored while the other continues on its downward spiral. City by the Sea is a movie you must sea. --Hernon
FEARDOTCOM. If you think blue tint, naked breasts, little white girls and atrocious dialogue are scary, then this film's for you! Ostensibly, it's a horror movie wherein those who look at a certain web site (which is not fear.com, but rather feardotcom.com, strangely enough) all die within 48 hours. Actually, it's more like a two-hour-long Nine Inch Nails video, except with much worse acting. Lead Stephen Dorff's pedestrian work looks like Olivier compared to Natascha McElhone, who does a deer-in-the-headlights impersonation that mysteriously combines "wooden" with "bathetic." The real winner, though, is Jeffrey Combs as detective Sykes. It's a performance too dreadful to be believed, a collection of quotes from all of the worst cop films of the last 80 years. I'd almost recommend seeing this movie just for the outstandingly bad script (it's literally about 50 percent artificial expository dialogue) the jaw-droppingly incompetent acting, and the really pretty decent visual effects. Seriously: the visual effects are good. --DiGiovanna
THE GOOD GIRL. This is being hailed as Jennifer Aniston's breakout film, and thank God, because it's about time she became a star. Actually, the movie belongs to the minor characters, including Zooey Deschanel as a potty-mouthed department store clerk, and screenwriter Mike White as a wimpy, Christian security guard. When not making fun of shoppers and the religious, the film is a rehash of the old middle-aged-woman-unsatisfied-with-her-life story. Aniston plays Justine, whose stoner husband doesn't seem so cool now that she's not in high school. She falls for young Holden, a sensitive writer manqué who comes off as the exact opposite of her unwanted spouse. Shockingly, things don't work out swimmingly, and drama ensues. You'll probably have fun anticipating the next plot twist, as they're all telegraphed with the urgency of Titanic S.O.S. Still, as standard and safe as it is, the film is well made and passably funny, and I guess that's all we're looking for in this brief interim between bloody Asian conflicts. --DiGiovanna
MARTIN LAWRENCE RUNTELDAT. Besides the vulgar language, the graphic sex talk, the harsh stereotypes, the blatant prejudices and the crude racial innuendos, this self-indulgent therapeutic stand-up comedy riff by actor/comedian Martin Lawrence is a humorous 100-minute romp for those too cheap to see an actual comedy bit at an auditorium, too Cable TV deprived to watch one on HBO, or too lazy to hunt down the 1994 straight-to-video shtick, You So Crazy, by the human clone of Mr. Potato Head. Now with this MTV production, hear the Bad Boy set the record straight on his criminal past, his previous medical problems and his personal sex fetishes and child-beating encouragements. Better yet, appreciate the underlying historical racial significance of an African American performing at the Constitution Hall in our nation's capital where Marian Anderson once was denied such a privilege. --Hernon
MR. DEEDS. Wondering which film star would fill the shoes of the legendary noble-commoner-as-heartthrob Gary Cooper? Apparently, it is -- Adam Sandler? The memories of Cooper and director Frank Capra (who made a career out of giving schmaltz a good name) are poorly served by this lame remake of the classic Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. As the pizza-delivering loser who inherits $40 million, Sandler further proves he hasn't actually acted since his days on Saturday Night Live. Through such annoying vehicles as Happy Gilmore, Big Daddy and this one, Sandler has gained questionable fame by basically playing the same character over and over: a sloppy everyman-savant meant to expose everyone else as stuffed-shirt hypocrites. This shtick isn't just getting old; it's way past retirement age. Woefully miscast are the otherwise talented John Turturro as a butler and Winona Ryder as a TV reporter, they should be scolded for enabling Sandler. --Armstrong
MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING. Do you, preppy and traditional English teacher, take this former frumpy but always-quirky waitress to be your lawfully wedded wife? I do. And do you, newly transformed va-va-vavoom travel agent, take this still preppy and traditional English teacher to be your lawfully wedded husband? I do. Then by the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. If only it were that simple. When the bride is from an enormously proud Greek family that lives in a mini replica of the Parthenon complete with Corinthian columns and adorning statues where the father believes Windex is the almighty cure-all, the senile grandmother believes that the Turks are after her, and the food-loving mother believes that a baptism in an inflatable kiddie pool will fix everything, a marriage is a little more complicated. Writer and star, Nia Vardalos, shows these eccentric dilemmas and peculiar problems in this charming comedy that will tickle your heart until death do you part. --Hernon
MY WIFE IS AN ACTRESS. Yvan (Yvan Attal) is a sportscaster whose wife, Charlotte (Charlotte Gainsbourg), is a famous actress. She goes to make a film in England where legendary actor John (Terence Stamp) tries to seduce her, leading to much comic behaviour and zaniness. Strangely, this is a French film with a sense of humor about itself and absolutely no gory sexual violence. It's even charming, just like old-time French movies used to be. My Wife is not only a great date movie, it's also a great single-guy-who-likes-to-stare-at-Charlotte-Gainsbourg movie, which is a genre we just don't see enough of these days. --DiGiovanna
POSSESSION. Gifted director Neil LaBute (In the Company of Men, Nurse Betty) gets all literary and costume drama on us by tackling this adaptation of A.S. Byatt's 1990 novel--LaBute co-wrote the screenplay with noted playwright David Henry Hwang--about a mystery in which two entirely too sexy academics (Gwyneth Paltrow, Aaron Eckhart) discover a forbidden epistolary love between a pair of Victorians (Jennifer Ehle, Jeremy Northam). The juxtaposition of a period romance and a modern one is sorta cool, but a novel about reading letters doesn't necessarily make a compelling motion picture. And it's telling that the two buttoned-up lovers from 100 years earlier create more heat than the modern pair. As movies about literary suspense go, it's much better than Roman Polanski's The Ninth Gate, a horrible cinematic version of Arturo Pérez-Reverte's The Club Dumas, but it's no great shakes either. --Armstrong
REIGN OF FIRE. The last few humans on Earth battle fire-breathing dragons in England in the year 2020. Along with massive computer-animated dragons--with the attendant nitro-napalm expectoration--this flick also boasts a decrepit castle, tanks, a helicopter, automatic weapons, fist fights, heavy artillery, horse stunts, underground tunnels, motorcycles, computer-imaging tchochtkes, extreme sky-diving, crossbow arrows with explosive points and a bona fide medieval battle ax. Christian Bale, Matthew McConaughey and Izabella Scorupco add a homo sapiens element to all the hardware, which is admirably wrangled by X-Files director Rob Bowman. Comic relief, in the form of not-unpleasant quips in the face of danger, is provided by a charming Gerard Butler. Can you guess whom the dragons toast first? Call it a guilty pleasure if you must. But at its heart, this is a way-cool example of escapist sci-fi and fantasy. --Armstrong
ROAD TO PERDITION. Based on a graphic-novel by crime writer Max Allan Collins, this is the second movie directed by Sam Mendes, whose first was the Academy Award-winning American Beauty. It marks an about-face from that post-modern dysfunctional-family epic. Set in the wintry Depression-era Midwest, Road to Perdition gives us instead a functional and happy family in which the stern-though-loving father, Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks, effortlessly discarding his stereotypical nice-guy image), just happens to be a hit man for the Irish-American Mafia. Some internecine complications and the dishonorable son of mob boss Paul Newman result in the murder of Sullivan's wife (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and youngest son. So he and his 12-year-old son (Tylor Hoechlin) embark on a picturesque road trip of revenge and, believe it or not, spiritual redemption. Jude Law contributes a decent job as a sleazy photojournalist-cum-assassin. Beautiful period settings, a well-paced plot and understated acting make this a film to savor. For once, the hype about Oscar expectations seems warranted. --Armstrong
SERVING SARA. There's the great and compelling movie you'd rush to theaters to see immediately. Then there is the mediocre one that sparks a hint of interest, but you'd rather wait to see it when it's released on video. And then there is the rather pathetic movie that you'd only watch if you were completely bored, had nothing better to do, and it just happened to be airing on cable TV. Well, this cat and mouse hodgepodge by director Reginald Hudlin is one of those cable TV losers. Matthew Perry stars as the Chandler Bing of James Bondian process servers whose wannabe suave and intensity is as real and convincing as Pamela Anderson's breasts. However, the Friend's performance is at least more forgiving than the exceedingly bouncy and bubbly trophy wife of an adulterous cattle rancher, played by Elizabeth Hurley, who needs her own set of pompoms to make her overzealous cheerleader-esque personality complete. Together the two misfits team up and become entangled in juvenile competitions, monster truck rallies and impotent bulls as they play Who Can Deliver the Divorce Papers First. Writing duo Jay Scherick and David Ronn collaborate on the screenplay for I Spy, due out later this year, which does not bode well for that TV series adaptation after the likes of this big screen disaster. --Hernon
SEX WITH STRANGERS. This is a creepy, tawdry little film in which directors Harry and Joe Gantz (also responsible for the fascinating HBO series Taxicab Confessions) follow the lives of three couples who swing, i.e. have recreational sex with other couples. The Brothers Gantz scored amazing footage that reveals much more than these people's naked bodies and sexual activities. Included are intimate and vulnerable scenes that detail private emotional dysfunction and jarring confrontation. The sexual footage is never hardcore, although it's always clear to viewers what is happening. The tales unfold in clunky fashion; overdubbed narration or on-screen titles would have helped to better guide the viewers through the stories. It's eerie, too, that each of these swinging relationships--no matter how sophisticated and cutting-edge its participants think they are--is controlled by the male partner. But ultimately, the lifestyle of RVs, nightclubs, indoor hot tubs and Polaroid cameras is just the opposite of hot or sexy. These swingers only seem sad and desperate. --Armstrong
SIGNS. M. Night Shyamalan delivers a gorgeously filmed family drama with a witty script and a tight, suspenseful plot. How did he do it? He took all the money that Hollywood was throwing at him, and he decided not to spend it on special effects. Instead, he makes the best and most careful use of camera possible, he trained his actors into a weird and mannered style that is both creepy and funny, and he spent some time writing a script that focuses on plot and dialogue instead of explosions and gadgets. It's not a deep film, nor will it challenge your conceptions of faith and self and love. What it is, more than anything, is a well-done version of a 1950s ultra-low-budget sci-fi/horror film. Still, well-done anything beats half-baked and over-priced hands down. --DiGiovanna
SIMONE. Things get out of hand when a director (Al Pacino) invents a virtual (i.e. computer-generated) movie star who becomes so popular he just can't let the public know she isn't real. Rachel Roberts is aptly flat and cold as the blandly beautiful Simone, whose existence ironically seems to make worthwhile and eclipse that of her creator. This film's writer-director, Andrew Niccol, penned The Truman Show and wrote and directed Gattaca, two fine examples of speculative fiction about the subtle and morally complicated differences between reality and artificiality. But despite the presence of acting legend Pacino and independent-film talents such as Catherine Keener, Jason Schwartzman and Pruitt Taylor Vince, this picture feels as if someone took some science-fiction leftovers, sprinkled on a little farce, stuck the whole thing in the microwave and hit the "reheat" button. It fills up space and time but doesn't taste too good. --Armstrong
UNDISPUTED. The sickening echo of angry fists pounding on vulnerable flesh, the thought of organized human brutality as sport in prison, and the fact that the lead character is an arrogant and barbaric convicted rapist seeking any opportunity to cause more trouble while in the slammer just won't allow me to speak highly, let alone recommend, this film. Call me crazy. These are just a few of the reasons why I was put off by this rage-fest of traditional violence, mind you. I haven't even mentioned the Mafia-connected, nasally speaking, squinty-eyed oddball played by Peter Falk, the scraggly yes-man who looks like a heroin addict with matted hair played by Fisher Stevens, the constantly disruptive editing of scene shifts, or the Zen Master of toothpick-architecture played by Wesley Snipes who talks like he has a permanent frog in his throat. Mexico City's former cartoonist, Walter Hill, wrote and directed this battle-fest that plays like a music video for immorally aggressive violence addicts, making it the undisputed heavyweight loser of the summer. --Hernon
XXX. Admit it: Whenever you see or hear the title of this new flick--showcasing ultra-buff Vin Diesel as extreme-athlete-turned-secret-agent Xander Cage--you half hope it refers to the rating. No such luck. In this film by Rob Cohen (who directed Diesel in last year's hot-rod spectacular The Fast and the Furious), X Games collide with a James Bond for the '00s. Stunt fans will love this picture, in which Diesel does such things as ride a metal tray down a handrail, flee from snowmobiles on a snowboard and has a fire fight in a bona fide castle. The story has something to do with some rogue Russian soldiers starting a terrorist team in the Czech Republic. The exotic locations, including some nice views of Prague, are a plus. Super-bad Samuel L. Jackson and eye candy Asia Argento add to the movie's appeal. As for Diesel, he couldn't be more Diesel: all fueled up and with everywhere to go. Action-film fans could do worse than this. --Armstrong
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