Reviews

(In theaters, October 2001) There’s nothing wrong with a good old “guy movie” once in a while. As long as you remember not to peer too closely at character motivation, logic or philosophical underpinnings. The Last Castle is set in a military prison filled with hard-edged convicts. In comes rockin’ Robert Redford (showing fully well why he deserved superstar status for so long), who sets out to give respect back to this assorted bunch of murderers, drug traffickers and rapists. Rah-rah-rah! This, of course, doesn’t sit very well with overbearing prison warden James Gandolfini, who immediately sets out to participate in a pissing match with our protagonist. It’s all a bit juvenile, but if you’re swept along with the absorbing script, it won’t matter a lot. Nor will the magically appearing weapons (a frickin’ trebuchet? How did they build that secretly?) or the plot contrivances, such as when a small fight conveniently sucks all guards out of a cafeteria. It all builds to a chest-thumping climax in which duty, honor, patriotism and blowing stuff all come to a meaningful end. (There’s one amazing action shot.) It’s sort of like The Shawshank Redemption with an exploding helicopter. I might sound snide and sarcastic, but I really liked the film as is, though the various emotional levels bothered me more and more once I had the chance to think about them. In any case, The Last Castle is a decent prison flick, a worthwhile rental whenever you want a guys’ movie night.

(In theaters, October 2001) “Teen thrillers” are, nowadays, little more than marketing exercises, usually casting young stars from TV shows in order to service an unimaginative script helmed by a barely-competent director. The clearance shelves of every video store are filled with the results: I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, The In Crowd, Antitrust, etc… In this context comes Joy Ride, a teen thriller that’s not without similarities with other members of the breed, but that at least manages to be better than average. Not a lot of that quality comes from the acting, though: Paul Walker is fine but bland and Leelee Sobieski looks cute but bored, though Steve Zahn continues to excel in otherwise average roles (see Out Of Sight, etc.) The first half of Joy Ride is strictly routine, as two idiot teens make a mistake and pay for it. The fun begins as the tale twists slightly and then some more; nothing to make the jaded viewer scream out “Genius!”, but enough to keep the tension going effectively. That tension, carefully milked by a director who knows what he’s doing, is ultimately what keeps the film from sliding into silliness as the going-ons get progressively more unlikely. Once again, the unseen antagonist proves to be nearly-omniscient and quasi-omnipotent against all common sense. There’s not much identification with the characters, but at least the film succeeds in keeping our interest. As suggested previously, that alone places it as an above-average teen thriller.

(In theaters, October 2001) It is a false dichotomy to separate art and entertainment, but it’s true to say that a very personal work of art can work very well on some people and not at all on others. That’s the case with Ghost World, a film of unarguable artistic ambition that simply didn’t appeal too much to me, much like Rushmore or American Beauty. It’s not a bad film per se, but I found myself strangely unaffected by it all. At some point, I really thought the film has something to say about how cheap cynicism is nothing but artificial detachment—but that might be a case of imposing my own pet peeves on another work. Suffice to say that I’m neither a teenage girl not a middle-aged geek (yet), so any appeal a relationship between these two archetypes might have didn’t reach me. The non-conclusive nature of the ending also bothered my neat Cartesian mind. While some individual scenes are hilarious (the cinema stint, for instance), the rest of the film is more uncomfortable than interesting. At least Thora Birch’s performance is less annoying than in Dungeons & Dragons.

(In theaters, October 2001) It’s obvious early on that this won’t be simply a forgettable slasher film: For one thing, it focuses on a historically-accurate representation of the grisly “Jack the Ripper” murders of 1888. For another, the visual polish of the production with its blood-red skies, suggestive violence and gritty realism takes it a full step above the cookie-cutter approach taken by so many horror films. Alas, the film tricks us into paying attention only to betray its initial promise by a ho-hum story hampered by several annoying details. Johnny Depp, for instance, is rather good as inspector Abberline, but he doesn’t achieve anything spectacular with it. It’s a Chocolat impact with a Sleepy Hollow character; he’s easily upstaged by Robbie Coltrane. (But then again, Coltrane does that to everyone). Heather Graham is pretty, too flawlessly pretty compared to the other prostitutes in the film. The film shows obvious signs of adaptation difficulties: The psychic visions of Abberline are entirely superfluous, and the signature line of the film (“Some will say I gave rise to the twentieth century”) makes no sense if you don’t know about the original graphic novel. It doesn’t help, either, that the suspect is obvious early on and that the final “twist” is painfully drawn-out. A shame, really, because the rest is pretty good. You won’t confuse the directing style with Tim Burton’s because Burton is far more polished, but it’s distinctive nonetheless. An interesting rental, especially if you’re interested in Ripper lore.

(In theaters, October 2001) Bring in the editor! Meshing crime adventures and romantic comedies require skill, wit and complete mastery of the AVID editing suite. Unfortunately, the filmmakers went for “atmospheric” rather than “snappy”, and the result is a film marred by a leisurely middle section that sucks away the energy of the rest of the film. It’s not as if our protagonists aren’t appealing: Bruce Willis rocks as a cool criminal, Billy Bob Thornton is hilarious as a neurotic partner-in-crime and Cate Blanchett makes me swoon every time she dons a red wig. But the screenwriters try to cram too much of a romantic ménage-à-trois drama in too little crime comedy and the result screeches to halt as soon as our trio talks romance rather than rob banks. The non-chronological structure is initially interesting, but not much is ultimately done with it. It doesn’t help that the ending is telegraphed well in advanced. Once in a while you have a great scene, like the self-convincing paralysis. Hey, it’s not a bad film, just an unsatisfying one. It won’t be remembered six months after its video release.

(On DVD, October 2001) In a society where children have to be protected from anything not light and fluffy at all costs, this sequel to the good first Babe film was quickly mis-marketed and buried. Certainly, the confusion can be understood: This sequel is much darker and meaner than its predecessor, to the point where it can be extremely uncomfortable to sit through. But don’t worry; it’s a fable, and everything will come out all right at the end. Meanwhile, you’re free to enjoy the fantastic design work and the zippy direction. Maybe a bit too bleak to be unqualified fun -minus the usual penalties for using monkeys- but still interesting.

(In theaters, October 2001) The late nineties have seen a plague of classics adapted as teen movies, most of them comedies (10 Things I Hate About You, Clueless, etc…) with the occasional drama (Cruel Intentions). Interestingly enough, most of these films have been decent. The latest entry in the subgenre, “O”, is a re-working of Othello set in a high school. Completed in 1999 but held back two years in the studio’s vaults after the Columbine tragedy, “O” is an interesting reworking of a die-hard Shakespearian tragedy that pulls few punches, and ends in the expected bloodbath. Josh Hartnett is chilling as the amoral Iago/Hugo beautifully manipulating the rest of the cast like puppets. There’s a certain perverse satisfaction in seeing such a merciless character at work and Hartnett twists the knife even more by playing Hugo as someone who can’t even derive any satisfaction in destroying everyone’s lives. In any case, the end result is fascinating in part because of the great adaptation work (war as basketball: genius!), but it’ll certainly hold your interest on its own.

(On TV, September 2001) Limp “comedy” starring Adam Sandler as yet another brain-damaged protagonist. This time around, he’s a weakly football waterboy whose unleashed rage can overcome even the toughest enemy player. Uh-huh. Whatever. It’s no accident if wrestling plays a substantial part in the film. The main arc of the story is as unfunny as they come, with expected developments, obvious twists and… wait a minute, did I say “twists”? Sorry, was thinking about another film entirely. In any case, the rare giggleselicited by The Waterboy are of the incidental variety, mostly through sight gags (“College Football Coaching for Dummies”, a Roy Orbison tatoo, a “What are they doing without supervision?” shot) and certainly not through Sandler, who here acts as a comedic black hole sucking all fun out of every single frame he’s in. Gaah. Zzzz.

(On VHS, September 2001) Lessons in cinema can come from the most unlikely sources, and so it’s halfway through Sneakers that I finally realized something that had eluded me for so long: The true origins of hacking movies (Hackers, Swordfish, etc…) are not thrillers in general, but specifically heist movies. Granted, this is an obvious revelation after you’ve seen this Robert Redford vehicle, which was made at a time where virtual heists were still in their infancy. Here, Redford heads an elite team of intrusion artists who are manipulated in stealing something for someone. Never mind who or what or why and rather focus on the elegant mechanics by which the various stunts are executed. Even if the plot is complete hokum (and it’s not… too much), the real fun of Sneakers is in the individual scenes in which our genius-level characters are allowed to strut their stuff and overcome various obstacles. (There’s a particularly joyous scene involving high-speed driving by a blind man.) Believable acting, good pacing and fascinating details complete the picture and overcome any of the niggling flaws of this thriller. Good fun.