Omar Epps

  • Alfie (2004)

    Alfie (2004)

    (In French, On TV, February 2021) I wasn’t all that interested by 2004’s Alfie back when it was in theatres or during its most active video lifecycle, but a recent look at the original 1966 film featuring Michael Caine had me suddenly interested in the later version. Jude Law was among the best choices to measure up to Caine, but this newer take updates and tweaks so many things that it hardly feels like a remake, and more of a companion work. What has not changed is the conceit of having its irremediable cad of a protagonist (suggested to be the son of Caine’s character) regularly address the audience to boast about his philosophy of life: As a British man deliberately expatriated in New York to improve his chances of hooking up, his life is a tightly optimized machinery for meeting, bedding and discarding girls. The first few minutes of the film are all in good fun, but consequences come in the form of a worrying medical diagnostic, the end of a longer-term relationship and, most dramatically, a fling with a friend’s on-and-off girlfriend, resulting in an unwanted pregnancy. Shifting from insouciant cad comedy to a more serious recognition of his flaws, Alfie does follow the original’s dramatic arc, but rearranging and updating the material to make for a decent watch by itself. Law strikes just the right balance in being charmingly arrogant and showing the capacity to reconsider his life after multiple setbacks. He does remain a cad, but at least a marginally forgivable cad. A strong supporting cast has its own merits, from Marisa Tomei to Omar Epps to Nia Long to Sienna Miller and Susan Sarandon. The soundtrack includes many down-tempo pieces sung by Mick Jagger. It’s obvious that 2004’s Alfie can’t have the same epochal resonance as the 1966 Swinging London one — it’s a different time and place, and no one can match 1960s Michael Caine. But the remake is interesting enough to live on its own terms, even for those with recent memories of the original.

  • The Mod Squad (1999)

    The Mod Squad (1999)

    (On TV, September 2020) The biggest occupational hazard for TV shows move adaptations it getting over the inane high-premises often built into serial TV. In The Mod Squad’s case, the problem is magnified by its origin in a TV show thirty years earlier, down to the dated “Mod” in the title. (If you thought, “What, we some kinda… Suicide Squad?” was bad, wait until you hear its 17-year precedent “So you kids are, what? Some kind of mod squad or something?”) Here, Claire Danes, Giovanni Ribisi and Omar Epps do their best to convince them that they’re delinquent hoodlums while working undercover for the police. While the best-case scenario for The Mod Squad would have been a middle-of-the-road crime action thriller (or a 21 Jump Street-style parody), this reboot struggles under the dated nature of its inspiration, and can barely be bothered to deliver the essentials of the film it’s supposed to be. With twenty years’ hindsight, it’s also easy to see that the film is far too deliberate in its appeal to 1999 young adults (I was part of that cohort, so I can say that the film’s soundtrack feels like a nostalgic throwback to that time’s dance music) and simply feels like a fifty-year-old producer’s attempt to imagine what young people would like. There are some interesting names in the cast (notably Dennis Farina and Richard Jenkins as adult supervision), but The Mod Squad itself is too gimmicky, too badly handled, too unintentionally funny to be effective.

  • Love and Basketball (2000)

    Love and Basketball (2000)

    (On TV, February 2019) We should never underestimate the impact of a great movie poster, because the one for Love and Basketball stuck with me long enough to get me to record and watch the movie nineteen years later. Fortunately, it’s not a movie solely defined by its poster: As the title aptly summarizes, this is a romantic comedy focusing on a basketball-playing couple, each with professional ambitions that run against their obvious attraction to each other. Romantic comedies are often best distinguished by their setting, and the focus on basketball works equally well at creating kinetic excitement as it does as a literalized metaphor. Playing with a four-quarter structure, Love and Basketball follows our protagonists over a seventeen-year period, as they go from backyard hoops to professional play, always threatening to come together until the very end. It’s quite enjoyable purely on its own merits, but as the film ages it also becomes a pretty good time capsule for some great turn-of-the-century actors: After all, where else can you watch Sanaa Lathan, Omar Epps, Alfre Woodard, Dennis Haysbert, Gabrielle Union, Regina Hall and a quick glimpse at Tyra Banks? Love and Basketball is a clever movie from writer/director Gina Prince-Bythewood: It’s not meant to be particularly surprising or challenging (it climaxes right where it should—on the basketball court), but it has quite a bit of heart, and an interesting frame over familiar, relatable material.