Movie Review

(In theaters, July 2001) Let us be perfectly candid from the onset and declare this the worst film of 2001. No argument, no competition: Any professional reviewer (and the vast majority of casual viewers) will agree that Freddy Got Fingered has managed to attain a new abyss of bad taste, incoherent plotting, gratuitous gross-out gags and stupid humor. (Only the unintentional atrocity of Battlefield Earth makes it a worse film than Freddy Got Fingered.) This movie works hard at pissing you off. Don’t be surprised if you stop watching midway through. And yet… and yet… This very intentional drive to produce the vilest film of the year in some sick way make it a recommended rental for everyone with the willingness and the stomach to face such an experience. Writer/Director/Star Tom Green has slipped the ultimate bad film out of the gates of the studio, probably earning him an exile from Hollywood but also producing a real curio in the process. Call it awful or atrocious, Freddy Got Fingered rates as an “interesting film” on the orthogonal scale. It’s impossible to like, but not inconceivable to admire.

(In theaters, July 2001) There is no doubt that this is a must-see film, though you’d be advised to remember that this in no way implies a particularly enjoyable movie. To re-state the obvious; yes, this is the first feature-length computer-animated film to attempt full photo-realism, especially when depicting human characters. Again, to re-state the obvious: no, it’s not undistinguishable from your living, breathing actors. But it comes close, and that’s why Final Fantasy is such a landmark. Had the animation been slightly more stylized, there would be no end to the technical praise; as it stands now, however, it’s so close, and yet so far, from full photo-realism that your pattern-recognition mechanism might temporarily balk at what you’re seeing. At least visually, the film makes full usage of its capabilities, depicting ruined cities, deserted wastelands and other areas hugely expensive to re-create practically. It’s a shame, though, that the overall palette of the film is so… bland and ugly. Believe me, you’ll thirst for non-LED green after a while. There is some amount of visual clutter too, almost as if the animators spent too much time cramming each frame with cool effects. Still, the film’s technical aspects will hold your interest for its whole duration, which is fortunate given the paucity of the story running the engine. You might have Titan A.E. flashbacks. Viewers approaching Final Fantasy as an SF film that happens to be animated will have a harder time at digesting the story than those who watch it knowing fully that Final Fantasy is a Japanese anime film that happens to be computer-generated. (The final minutes, for instance, are pure-anime mumbo-jumbo-mystical-sacrifice, entirely logical within the conventions of anime, but harder to grasp outside the genre.) See it, if only as a harbinger of things to come in a very few years.

(In theaters, July 2001) Little-seen Australian comedy well worth tracking down for a pleasant diversion. Taking place in 1969, during the first mission to the Moon, it concerns the efforts of a few technicians to keep the Moon-Earth relay open despite difficulties. Given that said link (the title “Dish”) is in a little Australian community, you can expect a quasi-nostalgic portrait of a small town. It may not sound like much fun, but it’s actually quite charming. There’s even some material for deeper reflection about the importance of creating cultural mementoes for later generations, but only if you like to overanalyze your films. The biggest flaw of The Dish is that it’s based on a true story, and as such has to contend with structural difficulties. (For instance, that the film’s most dramatic moment comes maybe halfway through, after which we’re almost left wondering “what else?”). The conclusion is weaker than it should; there was ample room for a what-happened-next epilogue, but unfortunately we’re left wondering. Still, a good film for everyone, and a unexpected treat for space-nuts in particular.

(In theaters, July 2001) It’s a shame that films are limited to sight and sound (with the occasional bass-driven tactile vibration) when seeing food, but hey—hearing my dieting female companion coo in envy at every single chocolate shot of the film almost made up for it. The initial structure of the film will be instantly familiar; an uptight community gradually liberated by an outsider. (In this case, a chocolatière -the wonderful Juliette Binoche- deftly stuffing our prudish cast with sinful chocolate). Strong symbolism, and it’s hard to see where you could go wrong with it. But it does, as soon as a second outsider comes in (Johnny Depp, with a good performance in a useless role) and mucks up what had been up to then a relatively clear narration. Blame it on the original novel if you must, but a large part of the film’s appeal simply runs on empty whenever Depp’s character is around. The other big flaw of the film is its very deliberate nature, where even the tragedies are carefully metered out in portions designed to thrill without offending anyone. You could say that the film feels designed for Oscar, and you wouldn’t be totally wrong. Still, once you get past that, the film still feels delicious in a completely non-challenging way. It reinforces liberal thinking, makes you hungry and won’t offend anyone: Follow it up by a trip to the ice cream parlor and you have an instant great date.

(On VHS, July 2001) It’s not because it’s a lesbian teen romance that it’s necessarily more interesting! While the initial potential of the film is interesting enough (a girl with lesbian tendencies is sent to a “rehabilitation camp”), the treatment is hampered not only by a low budget, but also a low imagination. The true satiric potential of the premise is barely scratched, almost as if everyone was afraid to really push the limits of the idea. While the romance between the two leads (a cute Natasha Lyonne and the ever-wonderful Clea Duvall) is very sweet, it definitely sucks energy from the comedy and the result is not only harmless, but a bit boring too. The cast of characters at the camp should have been a limitless reservoir of comedy, but instead the caricatures are too broad and too lazy to be interesting. (While the girls aren’t all necessarily butch, all the guys are clichéd gay stereotypes that are immediately recognizable as real film characters, not real characters.) There are a few inspired moments (the “gay underground railroad”) but the rest isn’t nearly as interesting as it should have been. Very quickly, I can see two ways in which the film could have been improved: A> with a re-write by Kevin Smith (heresy!), or B> as a full-blown hard-core porn film. In the meantime, well, it’s a disappointment. Don’t be surprised if the end leaves a considerable number of threads untied.

(On TV, July 2001) The Mob and showbusiness intersect in this Woody Allen film set in the New York of the swingin’ twenties. As usual for an Allen film, the cast is stellar and the story is slight, but amusing. While initially predictable, the film takes a pleasantly surprising course in the last third. Don’t worry; there’s a happy ending. Nothing special to report; once again, Woody Allen defeats my intention to write more than a few lines about his films.

(In theaters, July 2001) Yet another of those thrillers that don’t really make sense if you give it more than a moment’s thought, Along Came A Spider works better as a way to feature Morgan Freeman and/or string along a series of suspense sequences. Though the film tries to sell you a super-criminal mastermind, the end effect is under-whelming and doesn’t possess an aura of reality. The final twist is a pure cheat, once again making no sense if you watch the film a second time. Not bad while you’re watching it, but it might leave a sour aftertaste.

(In theaters, July 2001) The traditional fault of filmed science-fiction is the preponderance of visuals versus content, of gosh-wow over serious extrapolation. A.I. is a useful lesson in the lesser-known danger of going too far in another direction and ending up with a pretentious snoozefest. To put it simply, the nonhuman thing has been done already. From Star Trek’s Data to TV’s Alf (with countless other examples), I think we’ve seen every conceivable modern interpretation of the Outsider/Pinnochio myth. We didn’t really need another one, and needed even less a film that boldly went where every other SF writer has gone before. Thematic failure compounded by an overabundance of stupid non-questions (“Can humans love objects?” Well, try taking my teddy bear away from me and you’ll die.) and contrived non-questions (“Well, we’ll grant you your biggest wish, but babble-babble-babble it’ll only be for a day. Sorry. Nature of the universe. Sucks, doesn’t it?”) It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t all done in an entertaining fashion, but no… Stock up on caffeine before starting the film, because otherwise it’s a straight trip to sleepyland. It’s a shame -and a telling impression- that I wanted a film about the Teddy and Gigolo Joe secondary characters rather than the one I ended up seeing. It really doesn’t help that the film ends fifteen minutes after its logical ending, with a grating end sequence that it awful in all sort of different ways, but most egregiously by telling you what’s going to happen, and then spending ten minutes doing exactly that. And notice how I haven’t yet said anything about the manipulative sentimentalism of the production. Much has been said about this Spielberg/Kubrick “collaboration”, but in the end, Spielberg on Kubrick is like pouring a ton of sugar on a concrete slab. Interesting concept, but not an intrinsically entertaining experience.

(On VHS, July 2001) Admittedly a relatively early Jackie Chan effort (considering his breakout Police Story as the baseline), with a nagging lack of technical polish and often-simplistic dialogue. The historical focus of the tale, centered in 19^th century Hong Kong, doesn’t help at making things comfortable for the western viewer. Of course, that doesn’t matter very much once the fights start. As usual, there’s a lot to enjoy here, from a barroom brawl to an original bicycle sequence to a good final assault. Ends somewhat abruptly.

(In theaters, June 2001) Well, we action fans pay and shut up. And what we get in Tomb Raider is enough to satisfy our appetites, but not quite enough to send anyone in giddy action-nirvana. Oh, Angelina Jolie makes one of the best action heroines in recent memory, mixing sexiness with hard determination, but the film around her is too small for her greatness. Most of the blame goes to the scriptwriter (as usual), for a limp narrative which stores its best sequences for the middle of the film, and never ever allows us to be interested in anyone except Lara—which becomes a problem when she’s supposed to make sacrifices to save one of the cardboard characters. Unfortunately, the scriptwriter isn’t the only bad guy, here; director Simon West (who, surprise, also co-wrote the film) is on his worst behavior here, seldom allowing us to be impressed by a long shot truly showing off Croft’s skills. Oh, it’s always somewhat interesting, if only on the oh-shiny-objects level, but when considering the possibilities and the richness of the premise, well, it’s a shame to end up with a film as indifferent as this one.

(Second viewing, On DVD, July 2003) Some aspects of this film still hold up under scrutiny (many action sequences, some of the sets, a few wonderful shots of Angelina Jolie), but it’s hard to avoid a certain ennui regarding the unimaginative ways some core concepts have been developed. Director Simon West shows he can get some great action images, but fails to make them stick together in any kind of coherent flow. The special effects are pretty nice, but they service a story that couldn’t have been more ordinary if it had tried to. Character interactions are limited to sketches, making (among other problems) a late sacrifice seem pointless. Oh, Angelina Jolie makes a superb Lara Croft (I could replay her shower scene and her little “tilting head” moment for hours), but even her best butt-kicking abilities can’t save this film from a certain boredom. A film whose parts are superior to its whole, Tomb Raider shows, maybe better than most movies, the perils in hiring a director who can’t hold everything together. The DVD offers a lot of interesting documentary material, but repeats everything at least twice, lessening the impact. U2’s “Elevation” music video is surprisingly entertaining.

(In theaters, June 2001) Hollywood loves to make movies about itself, writers love to write about themselves and actors like to act about themselves. So it’s no surprise to see State And Main come together as a none-too-biting comedy about “Hollywood people” descending upon a small town and wreaking havoc on the community. Of course, the writer gets the best role, and politicians get the big wooden paddle. Good performances by everyone from Sarah Jessica Parker to the incomparable William H. Macy. Hey, even Rebecca Pidgeon isn’t nearly so annoying. A comedic lull in the fourth fifth, as the inevitable dramatic conflict is raised and solved. A few chuckles, and a big laugh at the end. Didn’t bowl me over, but passed the time in a pleasant fashion.