Year: 2001

  • Rat Race (2001)

    Rat Race (2001)

    (In theaters, August 2001) The premise isn’t fresh (strangers in a contest to find a huge amount of money; think Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.) but it’s fresher than most recent so-called “comedies” in recent memory. The end result isn’t totally satisfying, but it’s a pleasant diversion. You might be attracted to the film for its cast, but in the end, it’s two near-unknowns (Brecklin Meyer and Amy Smart) who will keep your interest, as John Cleese and Whoopie Goldberg simply go by the numbers and Rowan Atkinson grates nearly every time he’s on screen. (I still can’t say anything even remotely nasty about Seth Green, though.) Not every plot thread is equally funny, but they all have their moments. The gags are good an plentiful, but what’s most interesting about them is the intricate build-up of outrageousness, often sustained throughout several minutes as a funny situation steadily gets funnier. That Hitler gag… oh my… (The bets placed by the bored millionaires are also a steady hoot) The conclusion has the problem you’d expect, as the script tries semi-successfully to find a way to make everyone win. Much like the viewers, who’ll enjoy it equally, but not completely.

  • Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter (2001)

    Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter (2001)

    (In theaters, August 2001) As an Ottawa-born cinephile, I have a duty to be indulgent about any hometown product. And there’s a lot to be indulgent about with this nano-budget film (think Blair Witch Project, except even lower) shot on 16mm film. Blurry image, atrocious looping, unpolished editing, bad acting… it just goes on. Cheap to the point where the title graphics look better than the rest of the film. The sound is especially bad in a movie theater, though home viewers won’t have to struggle as much to hear what’s being said on-screen. If you look past the flaws, however, there’s a lot to like in Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. The weird sense of humor is the film’s biggest selling point, from the premise implied in the title, to the opening MacGuffin (someone’s killing all the lesbians in the Ottawa area! Edge festival threatened!) to the use of Mexican wrestler Santos as a main character—along with an unexplainably amusing sexual harassment joke involving his assistant. But beyond that, look even closer and you’ll find some compelling fight choreography (!) with an imagination rivaling Jackie Chan’s usual antics. The musical numbers are also pretty enjoyable (“It’s okay/it’s all right/Everybody gets laid tonight”) despite the lousy sound, and even feature local-area bands. Storywise, it holds together as well as other kung-fu films, even though the end Jesus/Doctor battle is somewhat too tasteless to my liking. I’m still not sure if I’d recommend the film to anyone else, but I had some fun watching it, Ottawa scenery or not.

  • Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back (2001)

    Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back (2001)

    (In theaters, August 2001) Non-Kevin Smith-fans probably shouldn’t even bother watching this fifth film in the Viewaskew Universe. Not only do it feature cameo bits from nearly everyone in the first four Smith films, but it also plays heavily upon the elements that made the series so endearing to fans and repulsive to others. A Road Trip film at heart, Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back is easily of the funniest films of the year, boldly skewering Internet fandom, Smith’s own films, Planet Of The Apes, homophobic rhetoric and a laundry list of element to numerous to contemplate here. Harsh language, off-color gags, simple stupidity and a lot of pantomime: it’s all there and more. There are annoyances beyond the usual Smith quirks, though: The film slows down considerably whenever there’s a monkey on-screen (a usual sign of creative bankruptcy, if you ask me) and that also includes Will Ferrell, completely unlikable here. There’s also an annoyance related to the Silent Bob character: In Smith’s first films, Silent Bob was silent because he didn’t need to talk; Jay handled the talking. He wasn’t this buffoon-like character gesticulating madly or overreacting at every gag. But, never mind that, Smith fans will love this final send-off to their beloved characters. Be sure to stay for the credits (always interesting to read) as in the charming post-credit clip, God herself closes the book on the Viewaskew Universe.

  • Ghosts Of Mars (2001)

    Ghosts Of Mars (2001)

    (In theaters, August 2001) You know, it might be heresy to say so, but aside from 1995’s In The Mouth Of Madness (the finest Lovecraft story ever filmed), I don’t think I’ve ever truly enjoyed all of a John Carpenter film. While his B-movies sensibilities make him a fan favorite, they’re also an impediment to technical polish and sophisticated entertainment. Ghosts Of Mars is a step down from even the lackluster Vampires: While the opening credit sequence and the final minute are all quite good, what’s in between barely registers on the interest scale. Did we truly need another zombie story, especially if it’s brought forth so -you’ll excuse the pun- lifelessly? There is nary a chill in the vision of KISS-like undead rampaging through a Martian town. Heck, there isn’t even a chuckle to be found in this wasteland. I tried to care, I really did… but in the end, this ugly, boring, meaningless film simply refuses to be liked. Repeat after me: Waste. Of. Time.

  • Child’s Play (1988)

    Child’s Play (1988)

    (On VHS, August 2001) Cheap B-grade horror film that is nevertheless not quite as cookie-cutter as you might think. After all, when dealing with a killer doll animated by the spirit of a serial murderer… well… all preconceptions are off. Effective -but slightly longuish- introduction. There is a lull in the middle third, as it just takes the expected inordinate amount of time for everyone to realize that, yes, there is a killer doll on the loose. The climax is one of those ultra-extended one, where the doll gets shot, chopped, burned and still comes back for one more go at it. Not actively bad, as far as those type of films go.

  • Child’s Play 2 (1990)

    Child’s Play 2 (1990)

    (On VHS, August 2001) Killer doll Chucky (now familiar enough to be his own catchphrase) is back, after an opening sequence in which all the sacred commandments of horror movie sequels are upheld: The doll is cleaned, refurbished, repainted and… well… obviously escapes. The setup isn’t as clean nor as fun as the first one, though the general quality of the film is higher. The deaths are also more inventive in that quasi-pornographic way I loathe to enjoy. Hey, if you liked the first film, you might as well also look at that one…

  • American Outlaws (2001)

    American Outlaws (2001)

    (In theaters, August 2001) Whee! Six-shot guns and loads of fun! Let’s not kid ourselves and pretend that American Outlaws has anything more than superficial historical accuracy: This is an out-an-out action film with virtuous heroes, hissable villains, predictable plotting and pretty darn good explosions. Our hero here is Jesse James, and of course he’s not a bank robber as much as he’s a farmer trying to save his homestead. His friends are along for the ride, fortunately, and together they make beautiful bank robberies. Oh now, what’s that? Timothy Dalton as Alan Pinkerton? Hmm! In any case, don’t be surprised if you end up calling when bad guys arrive on the scene to set fire to the houses or capture our hero. You’re just supposed to go along with the ride and whoop it up at the Hong Kong-style double-gun action. All in good fun. Don’t mind the dialogue.

  • 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

    10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

    (On VHS, August 2001) One thing I hate about teen romantic comedies: Suddenly, after a whirlwind courtship in which both participants are madly in love with each other, have confessed their deepest secrets, have spent days professing their true love for one another, one of them learns that the other’s initial motive for seduction has been less than honorable. Do they say “Hey, I’ve seen enough to convince anyone that’s not true anymore?” Do they ask for an explanation? Nope! They scream betrayal and vow never to see the other one again. Apart from that particular annoyance, 10 Things I Hate About You isn’t too bad, with added points because I’m a marginal fan of the main actors. Very loosely adapted from a Shakespeare play like so many recent teen films, which gives it an interesting plot structure. Worth a look if ever you’re a fan of the genre.

  • Fortunes of War, Stephen Coonts

    St. Martin’s, 1998, 376 pages, C$33.99 hc, ISBN 0-312-18583-9

    Regular readers of these reviews know that I have said a lot of nasty things about the current works of those who used to write great techno-thrillers in the early nineties. Tom Clancy has killed his editors. Payne Harrison suffered brain damage and turned UFO-nut. Larry Bond took too much Prozac and now writes simplistic crap. Dale Brown re-writes the same boring book again and again. Harold Coyle got lost in the Civil War and never came back.

    Compared to all of his classmates, at least Coonts is making an effort. Granted, The Intruders had problems, and I can’t discuss the formulaic-sounding latest Cuba, Hong-Kong and America trilogy without reading them first, but at the very least he doesn’t actively try to repeat himself. Fortunes of War, despite some shortcomings, is a step in the right direction. One that should be attempted by a few of the afore-mentioned authors.

    The first great thing about it is how it does not take place in the author’s flagship universe. Whereas Clancy continues to play in Jack Ryan’s increasingly divergent parallel Earth and Dale Brown re-uses the same characters over and over again, Coonts temporarily abandons his Jake Grafton alter-ego here and branches off in a new world: In the first few pages of the novel, the Japanese emperor is murdered by hard-liners, and preparations are made by the new government to invade oil-rich Siberia. Oh, and both sides have nuclear weapons…

    Shortly after Japanese troops take over Siberian cities, American pilot Bob Cassidy is dispatched to the area with a squadron of F-22s. The United States want to stop the Japanese intervention, but political pressures force them to send only pilots who will fight for the Russian air force. Of course, things are more complex once the Americans have to face a new Japanese fighter jet, and Cassidy has to fight against a friend on the other side…

    Have I mentioned the coup that drives a rabid dictator to the top of the Russian government? There is a lot of material in here, and it’s Fortunes of War‘s chiefmost problem that it attempts to cover a lot of ground in relatively few pages. Describing a war takes time unless you severely constrain your scope (see Coyle’s Team Yankee), and while Coonts focuses on a few characters, the picture still seems fragmentary.

    It doesn’t help that several pages are spent on the wrong things. Most of Cassidy’s fellow pilots are discussed more intricately during their recruitment than after. A lot of time is spent in preparation rather than the actual war itself. There are only a few glances at the ground war. At the same time, the novel flies from the pilots to the politicians. While the beginning is laborious, the ending is rushed. In short, there seems to be a lack of focus.

    There’s also, in the middle of this realistic scenario, a bit too much of war-stories dramatics. The “elite corps of competent misfits that has to fight battles on their own” motif is, by now, so over-used that even careful rationalization can’t completely excuse it. The friendship between pilots on opposite sides is interesting, but seems artificial. The Russian dictator is straight out of Central Casting.

    Still, the novel is a good read, and not an entirely unsatisfying one. There are good action set-pieces, and a few interesting characters. More of them die than you might expect. Maybe best of all, this novel doesn’t slavishly imitate Coonts’ earlier works, which have concentrated more on the Vietnam War (Flight of the Intruder), limited theater engagements (Final Flight) or more espionage-driven plots (The Minotaur). It’s his first try at a brand-new war; give him some slack. At least he’s working harder at it than his colleagues.

  • Quicksilver, Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens

    Pocket, 1999, 728 pages, C$9.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-671-02854-5

    Location, location, location. It’s not just a good idea for real-estate investment or the localization of a new business; it’s almost a prerequisite for a really good thriller. Look at that most meanly efficient thriller machine, the action film: DIE HARD wouldn’t be so great if it wasn’t for being set strictly in an office tower. EXECUTIVE DECISION did wonders inside an airliner. And what would SPEED be without a bus?

    The list of interesting locations in which to set a thriller has to include the Pentagon, the iconic and practical location of American military power. One of the biggest buildings in the world, the Pentagon’s myth invokes endless military secrets, fantastic security, international relevance and a primo terrorist target.

    This is where Quicksilver comes in. Ignore the great teaser about a novel super-weapon having far more destructive effects than predicted: it is, as you may expect, merely a pretext to the real meat of the book, which is a terrorist takeover of the Pentagon.

    As you may also expect, the solution to this problem will rest squarely on the shoulders of plucky underdogs; a marine-in-training, an electronic nerd and his aggressive ex-wife. Together they’ll… well, they’ll obviously triumph, but the fun is all in the pudding.

    The Reeves-Stevens husband-and-wife writing duo had, after years of undistinguished Star Trek novels, knocked out one solid book with Icefire, one of the best technothrillers of the late nineties. They’re back with Quicksilver, bringing the same creative imagination, limpid narration and uncomplicated characterization to their second technothriller. The result, as you may expect, is another steady fun read in the Clancy genre, with more invention and less useless fat than Clancy’s current work.

    The Pentagon is a fantastic setting for a thriller, if only through the discovery of the building. Relatively old (built in the 1950s) by office building standards, the Pentagon is currently being completely renovated (a “Slab-to-Ceiling” work) and the Reeve-Stevens have a lot of fun throwing random construction obstacles in the way of their protagonists. But more than that, it’s the labyrinthine layout, the security measures, the forgotten basement areas, the arcana of the building that engrosses the reader as much as the overall plot of the book. The authors make full use of their setting, as competent thriller writers very well should.

    Naturally, the various gadgets used by protagonists and antagonists alike are fun and interesting. The “Looking Glass” gadget in particular promised much, even though it’s taken out of action early on. The central MacGuffin of the book is credible, original and suitably powerful. And as for the identity of the terrorists… well, I haven’t seen anything like it in a long while. Good stuff, supported by plausible research. Hey, shouldn’t the opening diagrams be classified Top-Secret?

    Going beyond location and gadgets to the actual plot of the book, well, we can’t ask for much more, from a presidential escape to an impressive apocalyptic finale. Tension is gradually increased, and if you’re not careful you’ll end up reading much more of the book in a single sitting than you’d want to.

    In short, technothrillers fans have a lot to look forward to with Quicksilver. While a bit less original than Icefire with the standard building-taken-over-by-terrorist template, it’s a bit more mature (viz the dismissal of the UFO-nut character in Quicksilver versus the jarring references in Icefire) and focused. The edges are polished and the result is a solid, thick read that will amply satisfy countless beach readers.

    [September 2001: As with so many other novels, the September 11 terrorist attack on the Pentagon suddenly takes out a lot of fun out of this thriller. “Well”, I blackly reflected in the heat of the events, “there goes the schedule for the slab-to-ceiling renovations.”]

  • Tomcats (2001)

    Tomcats (2001)

    (In theaters, July 2001) In a few years, whenever the gross-out comedy sub-genre is finally dead and buried, film historians will look upon Tomcats as the film that got fatally contaminated by the trend. In concept, it’s similar to The Bachelor‘s theme of marriage-as-trauma for single guys. (Except that Tomcats protagonist Jerry O’Connell exhibits more charisma lying unconscious than Chris O’Donnell ever did in his entire career.) In execution, most of the film is actually quite enjoyable. While contrived, the gags work well in a pleasantly charming way. Unfortunately, this is marred by a few sequences that borrow a bit too much from the latest excesses in tasteless comedy. One such hospital sequence lasts five minutes, is only tangentially related to the plot, will make every guy in the audience visibly squirm. By itself, said sequence takes off a full star from the film’s final rating. Cut it, along with a few other weak jokes, and the film suddenly becomes a marginal recommendation. Tomcats has a dynamic rhythm, appealing actors (with particular props to Shannon Elizabeth, who never struck me as gorgeous before, but really kicked in my strong-women-in-uniform fetish in this film. Oh, and I liked Bill Maher too, except in a wholly different way.), unexpected parodies (loved the Mission: Impossible 2 doves) and a few very strong individual sequences. (The standout remains the one that begins as my basic redheaded-librarian fantasy and ends up straight from my worst nightmares) It’s a shame that the stench of tastelessness overpowers the rest of the film.

  • Shadow Builder (1998)

    Shadow Builder (1998)

    (On VHS, July 2001) Straight-to-video release that once again proves that there are no accidents in the theater/video release rift. Granted, it’s not always bad, but then again it’s nothing worth writing about. The first few minutes hold considerable promise, as a gun-toting priest (Michael “Grrr!” Rooker) mows down a satanic sect with the help of laser sights. But right after that, we slip in an X-Files episode that flops around without Mulder or Scully and feels much longer than the 90-odd minutes running time. The creature feels less and less impressive as time goes by. It’s the kind of movie during which you can fall asleep and miss preciously little. Catherine Bruhier plays a cute female police officer, though.

  • The Shift, George Foy

    Bantam Spectra, 1996, 515 pages, C$17.95 tpb, ISBN 0-553-37544-X

    The reviewer wakes up. For a single moment, his life is bliss, mostly because he doesn’t realize what a pathetic life he leads. Still smiling from his oniric tryst with Sarah Michelle Gellar, the reviewer managers to slide out of bed before waking up.

    Looking outside the grimy windows of his apartment, he sees that things are worse than ever. Microsoft has plastered another hideous billboard on the building across the street, extolling the new consumer-protection features of Windows TJ designed to disallow any potential illegal activity. The reviewer knows that will transform the computer in little more than a Microsoft-approved silicon brick; he’s spent the last week re-installing his own machine.

    He looks at the book on his reviewing slate and groans. George Foy’s The Shift, as undistinguished a piece of cyberpunk SF it’s possible to publish. The reviewer doesn’t have a clue what to say about the book that will sustain a full-length review. He decides to sidestep the issue and go take a shower.

    Things haven’t improved after the shower, nor the breakfast. On the streets outside, wild bands of illiterate barbarians are fighting pretentious pseudo-intellectuals. It’s a battle the reviewer wants everyone to lose. As the spicy smell of tear gas wafts through the broken air-conditioning unit, the reviewer sits down at the computer to make another stab at writing the review.

    His first approach is pure grade-school classic: Reword the back cover blurb, adding a few meaningless details that show he’s read the book. It’s not a satisfying experience: Not only does it offend his sense of creativity, but The Shift doesn’t offer anything compelling to write about. By this time, everyone has read a few dozen books in which a well-off character is brought down in the “real” world. Everyone’s had their fill of obsessive virtual reality creators who come to like their creation more than the real world. Everyone’s sickened of those oh-so-clever “virtual monster crossing in the real world” plots. Oh, and evil corporations aren’t anything new.

    He deletes most of the plot résumé and graduates to a higher level of hack work; maybe it’s possible to waste a few words on the place of The Shift is the overall literary pattern of the SF genre? As quickly as he seizes upon this notion like a drowning man, he realizes it’s not going to work. The Shift‘s historical legacy and significance is null and void. It simply regurgitates the clichés of the cyberpunk genre in a nearer future. It does attempts to do something more realistic and closer to mainstream fiction, but the net effect is soporific for any genre reader. Maybe someone coming in fresh from outside Science-fiction will like it. But that’s not the reviewer’s audience.

    The reviewer remembers his mother’s advice to find at least something nice to say about the book. But he can’t just write that the prison segment is quite good. Or that the conclusion ties up everything nicely. A good conclusion doesn’t expiate the busload of clichés that preceded it. Nor does a rather good prison novella redeems a 500+ page borefest.

    The reviewer knows he’s screwed up. By spending most of the month reading the massively enjoyable Night’s Dawn trilogy, he’s run out of time to fill up the usual wordage. So now he’s stuck dredging up what he would normally read and forget away. There is no way out.

    So he puts his fingers on the keyboard.

    But then, a team of corporate anti-terrorists operatives bursts in his room and kills him in a hailstorm of gunfire.

    It is, ironically, a happy ending.

  • Save The Last Dance (2001)

    Save The Last Dance (2001)

    (On VHS, July 2001) Mostly unremarkable music/romance teen film of the sorts you’ve seen countless times already. The interracial romance does adds a certain interest (and a small surprising hospital scene in which a few highly meritorious points are made), but that’s far from being enough to be interesting. The first hour of the film is by far the worst, as the screenwriter piles up every single cliché from romance, newly-moved, musical and gangsta teen films. Julia Stiles turns in an average performance, looking adorable in one scene and just plain boring in the next. Nothing to see here; even a free rental left me somewhat cheated. Oh, okay, you can add a few extra points if you like slow boring hip-hop.

  • Les Rivières Pourpres [The Crimson Rivers] (2000)

    Les Rivières Pourpres [The Crimson Rivers] (2000)

    (In theaters, July 2001) The first few moments of the film give the tone to this dark, stylish thriller, as we’re shown long close-ups of a putrefying human corpse. It eases up after that, but it’s a fairly good start to a rather interesting film, an investigation of a murder that eventually comes to uncover something else entirely. That “something else” isn’t really all that impressive (I, for one, could have enjoyed a secret cloning conspiracy by extraterrestrials, but alas, no such thing here) but don’t worry; aside from the gratuitously surprising finale, the film will hold up your interest for its full duration. Jean Reno is still as cool as ever, though here he looks particularly hideous. Young Vincent Cassel is almost as good as a hot-headed policeman with a talent for kung-fu. (Leading up to a jarringly atonal fight scene that is quite good in itself, but doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the film) The ending is highly problematic, with a big surprise that really isn’t necessary, and does little to actually explain the events of the film. (Re-run the story in your head after seeing it, and you’ll understand your lack of understanding. Begin with the mother’s speech and motivations.) In any case, the visual style, the varied action sequences and the overall tone of the film should be enough to recommend. Just don’t expect a tightly-plotted film.