Reviews

(On VHS, June 2001) Well, it had been a while since I’d seen this one, at it does hold up quite well fifteen years later. There are a few weak moments, and some special effects are showing their age, but the central premise and the sharply-defined protagonists more than make up for it. (I couldn’t stand Rick Moranis, though. Now that’s a name we’re not missing in this bold new millennium.) Oh, and Sigourney Weaver; oooh, aaah! Bill Murray is in top form, while Dan Aykroyd suddenly look very very young… In any case, the dialogue is fine, the pacing moves decently (at the regrettable exception of the Keymaster subplot) and the result is a fine film that can still compete with the best of them. Though the theme song… well… sounds really old and tired.

(On VHS, June 2001) Hey, it’s Terry Gilliam, so it’s got to be good on a visual level, right? Maybe, if you squint real hard and get a mild brain seizure from the added pressure. The story of a fallen shock DJ and a wacko homeless person, The Fisher King might work on some quasi-mythic level, but most of the film is painful in that inimitable “here are miserable people and we’re going to rub your noses in their pathetic lives” fashion. There is an excruciatingly painful date sequence that will make you grit your teeth. There are two appearances by gratuitously violent men who serve no other purpose than to artlessly advance the plot through violent beatings. A whopper of a coincidence drives the story. Well, maybe I’m being too harsh; Mercedes Ruehl is wonderful, Jeff Bridges as cool as usual, there’s a good scene inside Grand Central Station and a happy ending. But it might not be worth it unless you really, really want to see the film.

(In theaters, June 2001) We live in an amazing age, where cutting-edge effects can be produced cheaply and inserted in a film that is so slight. Oh, don’t worry; you’ll laugh, giggle and smile during most of Evolution, but trust me, it will leave an empty feeling in your head soon afterward. The problem is how easy the film feels. No effort seems to have been put in the script, the acting nor the direction. (The special effects people worked until they fell asleep over their workstations, though.) All the jokes are obvious and laboriously set-up. A large splattering of vulgar humor covers the film like an oily sheen, making it less than commendable for family audiences while there was no real reason to go gross-out on us. At least the actors look as if they’re having fun; David Duchovny gets to crack a few smiles, Seann William Scott still looks like a sympathetic doofus (Dude, where’s your car? Oh, right; blown away by a meteor) and Julianne Moore’s character is an excellent antidote for everyone who hated her in Magnolia or Boogie Nights. One of the film’s few bright spot is a cameo by Sarah Silverman—though her site makes reference to another deleted scene. There’s a good action scene inside a mall. On the other hand, you’ll shake you head at the sorry science exhibited here. Oh well. There’s enough eye-candy here to make it worth a cheap rental at the very least.

(On VHS, June 2001) You’ve got to admire Spike Lee for the way he gradually cranks up the tension in a mixed-race neighborhood over the duration of this film. On the other hand, there isn’t all that much to like in the way the tension is unleashed, giving a particularly confused impression by the time the credits roll. After a particularly pointless title sequence, a rather large cast of characters (including a small role by a young Martin Lawrence) is progressively introduced and put in relation with one another. Of course, faults run across race lines, and the sweltering weather doesn’t help one bit. It all has to blow over sooner or later, and this is when the film doesn’t make as much sense. One characters makes what seems to be a completely rash decision for no good reason, which precipitates the unavoidable conclusion. The epilogue doesn’t help, almost bending itself out of shape to avoid laying blame to anyone. But, her, what do I know about Brooklyn neighborhoods? I’m just a white guy from the suburbs.

(In theaters, May 2001) For an actor, the worst that can happen is to be upstaged by animals, kids or character actors. For Martin Lawrence, this happens with a unnerving frequency, which isn’t surprising given his almost total lack of screen presence. In What’s The Worst That Could Happen?, Lawrence once again takes on a role that he’s ill-prepared to fill. In this case, that of an expect cat burglar whose skill is only matched by smarminess. With Lawrence, we get all the smarminess, but no real idea of the skill. The script isn’t much help, starting with a gag-inducing romance that’s reason enough to walk out. But stick with the film long enough and gems will appear. No, said gem isn’t Danny DeVito, who turns in a completely routine neurotic billionaire performance. No, said gems are the various supporting characters, all of whom are more interesting than protagonist and antagonist. Headlined by the always-excellent William Fichner as a flamboyant police inspector, you’ll reach for the smaller characters like a drowning man to a lifesaver jacket, because the rest of the film remains tedious and obvious, not to mention not-that-funny. (The deaf-language translation of the swearing is a typical example, sucking off considerable energy from two otherwise good scenes.) The conclusion is highly problematic, trying to patch a happy-happy ending on the film at the expense of everything else. The worst that could happen would be for you to waste your money on this film when so many other better ones exist.

(On TV, May 2001) I hated Michael Crichton’s novel Sphere so much that I threw my copy against the wall after finishing it. Unfortunately, my television is too expensive to repeat the experience after seeing the adaptation. Not only does this mess of a film repeat the worst features of the novel, but it adds several brand-new terrible things that will grate on your nerves as the film evolves. Granted, the setup is intriguing; an underwater relic is discovered, which proves to be an American space ship from the future. Ooh, aah. A terrific cast of characters is assembled, here played by actors who should have read the script before they signed on. Then the trouble begins; they find sort of an alien which might or might not try to kill them all (but you know it’ll do just that) Then the script moves in Star Trek: The Motion Picture territory, with amazing leaps of logic that not only come from nowhere, but also make no sense at all in retrospect. Samuel L. Jackson’s “explanation” on how they’ll all die is a perfect example of this, made even worse by an utter lack of self-doubt. In Michael Crichton’s universe, gifted people just get it right the first time around, with no critical auto-examination. The film gets worse and worse after that, once the true plot dynamics get going. As with anything involving omnipotence and dream logic, the plot starts to unravel rapidly, eventually devolving in an ending that essentially means “it was all a dream”. Oy. The only worthwhile thing here is Dustin Hoffman, oddly solid all throughout despite some seriously brain-damaged lines. Avoid, people, avoid.

(In theaters, May 2001) An early contender for the Toy Story award for kid-flick-that-ends-up-being-one-of- year’s-best-films, Shrek is a full parody of classic fairy tales, handled with such wit and aplomb that kids and adults alike will love it. Most films are lucky to count one or two good scenes; Shrek has at least four, from action scenes parodies (not only The Matrix, but a screamingly-funny slow-motion escape-the-fireball shot.) to musical gags (from the exploding bird to a Jerry Lewis wink in the end “I Believe” singalong.) Good fun, and surprisingly smart too. Think of it as the film for those who grew up on the Disney animated films of the nineties, and are now ready to laugh about it. (And I haven’t talked about the great CGI yet.) And, as a bonus, there are enough unpleasant sub-themes to provide any undergraduate philosophy student with an ideal paper subject.

(On VHS, May 2001) A portrait of an English family between the wars isn’t a terribly compelling subject, and the film more or less delivers what we expect. Oh, it’s watchable; the script is well-written, the pacing moves with efficiency and the performances are fine. (Colin Firth is as good as usual.) But it slowly never moves beyond that, and neither will this review.

(In theaters, May 2001) Wheee! I’ve always been a fan of roller-coaster movies, and that certainly accounts for my irrational praise of the 1999 “original” The Mummy film, a great unpretentious blend of comedy, action and adventure. The sequel is, believe it or not, nearly as good. While not as comic as the first film, The Mummy Returns is a wonderful action/adventure thrill-ride, a good-natured spectacle that might not be in any way smart, but is certainly so well-done that you’ll ask for more. Sure, the film rips-off almost every previous films of the genre (including stealing the most memorable “domino comedy” and the “face in particle storm” images from the prequel), but as long as we’re having fun -and we are!-, it’s hard to be left unmoved. Oodles of action -so much that it might numb you, but not as repetitive as, say, the last hour of Armageddon-, a sympathetic kid, a gorgeous (and butt-kicking) Rachel Weisz, square-jawed action hero Brendan Fraser… c’mon, grab your pop-corn, already! The story is surprisingly well-tied with the first film. The special effects are nearly omnipresent, but the level of quality differs wildly, going from amateurish to flawless. A great self-knowing grand-scale B-film. A perfect summer blockbuster.

(Second viewing, On DVD, April 2002) There is both good and bad in this sequel, but it maintains most of the charm of the original film. Rachel Weisz and Brendan Fraser are once again wonderful as the lead couple, and their matrimonial relationship is one of the film’s highlight. I was once again impressed by the film’s integration with the events of the first segment, even despite the clunky appearance of past-lives mumbo-jumbo. Some special effects are good; some other effects are surprisingly bad. The DVD features quite a few extra bonus goodies, the best of which is a fun commentary track that spends a long time pointing out flaws—though maybe not as much as the film’s detractors might like. But don’t worry; it’s still good entertainment for the whole family.

(In theaters, May 2001) The epitome of a gimmick film: Not only does the character suffers from short-term amnesia, but the entire film is told in segments that run backward, from chronological end to chronological beginning, interspaced with black-and-white exposition segments that might or might not be true. It doesn’t take much more than that to create interest, but fortunately, Memento is able to deliver a solid film wrapped around that gorgeous premise. It’s the type of film that keeps on throwing unexpected delights at you, so much that it would be ill-advised to step out for popcorn or bathroom relief lest you miss something important (and you would). Wonderful black humor, snappy screenwriting, provocative conclusion… Chances are that you’ll still be talking about the film a good ten, fifteen minutes after it’s all over. Films like this remind you, even if only momentarily, that cinema -even accessible genre cinema!- can be something more than just formulaic entertainment. The film features an exceptional performance by Guy Pearce, and good turns by The Matrix alumni Joe Pantoliano and Carrie-Anne Moss. Definitely worth a rental.