Wesley Snipes

  • Rising Sun (1993)

    Rising Sun (1993)

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2021) There are movies worth a look because they are not good, original, timeless or kind-hearted. Rising Sun is one of those. Adapted from a typically hysterical Michael Crichton novel published the previous year, it shamelessly exploits the anti-Japanese rhetoric of the time, at a point where Americans were convinced that the Japan Inc. juggernaut was unstoppable — that it would gobble up companies, dominate manufacturing, steal secrets, control politics and make Washington regret that unfortunate Hiroshima/Nagasaki business. There’s an instructive history lesson in watching Rising Sun’s characters ponder the inscrutable yet all-powerful ways the Japanese are poised to rule, and the reality of what happened later on — enough to make you look twice at any similar prediction made today. But so it goes — Rising Sun is, from its first moments onward, a film made to fan fears. Made in the form of a buddy crime thriller, it features an incredibly American cop (Wesley Snipes, not yet full of himself) paired with a veteran ex-cop (late-career Sean Connery in a rather good interpretation of a bad role) with a deep knowledge of Japanese culture and norms. Connery plays the voice of authority here, confidently instructing us in how exactly the Japanese escape American norms and laws in their all-conquering path. It all feels ridiculous thirty years later, but the point it — many people believed it, and believed it for a long time. The rest of the film is slightly better once it lays off the xenophobia and embraces its familiar nature as a buddy-cop techno-thriller: in keeping with its source novel, Rising Sun peeks at some of the gee-whiz technology of the time (such as real-time surveillance video editing) and occasionally scores a few better moments when it focuses on suspense sequences rather than anti-Japanese racism. (It feebly attempts to distance itself from racism by featuring “good” Japanese characters and a Caucasian villain… but nobody’s fooled.)  Tia Carrere and Steve Buscemi have short appearances. By itself it’s not a very good film — its xenophobia is embarrassing, and so is the way it’s integral to the plot. But the way the film has aged poorly (That other Michael Crichton film of 1993 was… Jurassic Park) should be a hard-hitting lesson to all — racism is bad for all sorts of reasons, one of the longest-lasting of them being how it just makes you look stupid to later generations.

  • New Jack City (1991)

    New Jack City (1991)

    (On TV, May 2020) Often lumped in with the neo-Blaxploitation “hood movies” of its time, New Jack City ends up being something a bit more grandiose, enjoyable and action-oriented than the films it’s often compared to. It certainly does not deal in the quotidian lives of ordinary people stuck in the hood—it’s a New York City-wide criminal epic with unsubtle, grander-than-life characters, overblown action and ham-fisted atmosphere… and that is part of its charm. Part of the appeal is an interesting cast of actors in early roles, from Wesley Snipes as a crime lord, Ice-T as a detective, Chris Rock in a supporting role, director Mario van Peebles also taking on a small role, and the beautiful Vanessa Williams as new-style gun moll. It’s all a clever blend of an unusually good soundtrack, an ambitious script, social inequality commentary, interesting (but inconsistent) stylish direction, a good ending and great moment-to-moment watchability. Explicit references to James Cagney and Superfly tie the black cinema of the 1990s both to the Blaxploitation era of the 1970 and the gangster films of the 1930s. Given this, New Jack City is better than expected, and a decent film in its own right. Have fun watching it on BET, though—the film is heavily censored and inconsistently so: sometimes, the closed captioning bleeps out mild profanity even when the audio doesn’t!

  • Major League (1989)

    Major League (1989)

    (On TV, March 2020) There is nothing new in Major League, and that’s probably what explains its charm. Yet another baseball underdog comedy, this one features a calculating team owner who deliberately sets out to put together the worst players she can find in order to have an excuse to move the team to another city. This naturally strong comic premise leads to a collection of supporting oddballs and lead characters with overblown problems. The decision to go for an R rating allows the film to distinguish itself with plenty of spicy language and risqué situations. Still, Major League would have been better had it featured even a few surprises: as it is, it’s an underdog sports comedy that ends like you’d expect it to end, with all characters have resolved their issues along the way. Added fun comes from spotting actors who would become even bigger stars later on: the then-ascendant Charlie Sheen is quite good as the bespectacled “Wild Thing,” while Wesley Snipes, Dennis Haysbert and Rene Russo have good early roles. The humour can be coarse at times but never too gross or off-putting, which does help a lot in making this an approachable R-rated comedy. Major League plays familiar riffs and still does it reasonably well, and sometimes that’s all a movie needs to win.

  • The Fan (1996)

    The Fan (1996)

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2020) I’ve written elsewhere about the spate of good mid-1990s thrillers, but there were a lot of not-so-good ones too, and The Fan definitely qualifies as one of those, although not necessarily a bad one. Considering that the film features Robert de Niro, Wesley Snipes, a young Benicio del Toro and a non-annoying early turn from John Leguizamo, this may be more a case of inflated expectations than anything else. Still, the troubles start at the script level, which chooses to follow a deranged San Francisco sports fan as he begins stalking a baseball star, then violently murdering perceived opponents. While mid-1990s audiences may have found this implausible (well, maybe not), the age of social media has uncovered plenty of deranged fans with weapon fetishes and difficult personal relationships who turn to violence for affirmation—it’s a pathetic choice for a viewpoint character, and the execution does nothing to make it any more interesting. To see de Niro in the lead role is a waste of talent when his usual screen persona by the mid-1990s was closer to mob boss than crazy cuckoo à la Taxi Driver. Coming from director Tony Scott, it’s no surprise if The Fan’s execution is bombastic, filled with dated music video stylistic tics and an aggressive rock soundtrack. The ending doesn’t manage to elevate the material, and leaves viewers with an undiluted sour and unpleasant feeling.

  • Wildcats (1986)

    Wildcats (1986)

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2019) As far as I can determine, Wildcats is essentially Private Benjamin in an inner-city high school football context: a quirky blonde (Goldie Hawn) being thrown into a man’s world where she gets to overcome prejudice, grow as a person, and prove herself worthy. Add a little bit of inspiration for the disadvantaged students, and you’ve got every single uplifting teacher movie included in the mix as well. It’s a comedy, but it’s more annoying than amusing to get through. Of note: Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson both make their film debut here in minor roles. Goldie Hawn is certainly in her element, carrying the film as the star vehicle that it is. Otherwise, well, there isn’t much to say: Wildcats is a film on autopilot, obvious from the get-go as to how it’s going to end. There’s been better and worse movies along the same ideas, but you’d have a tough time picking this one out of a line-up.

  • Money Train (1995)

    Money Train (1995)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) There’s a clear attempt in Money Train to duplicate some of the easy chemistry between Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson in White Men Can’t Jump: the banter attempts to be as fast and knowing, with two transit cops (also foster brothers) teaming up to rob a train carrying the cash receipts of a particularly busy week in the subway. There are a few subplots, one of them involving a serial killer played by Chris Cooper, and another with a stunning Jennifer Lopez as a romantic interest. Money Train didn’t get good reviews back in 1995, but time may have been kinder to it in that we get to see a few known actors looking great as their younger selves, and because such mid-budget action movies are getting increasingly scare now compared to the mid-nineties. Speaking of which, the film is becoming a period piece with every passing year—among other things, cash has almost disappeared from the New York Subway system. Still, there are annoyances: our designated heroes aren’t particularly admirable most of the time, and there’s some weirdness in seeing the film go all-in in them planning a robbery of citizen dollars. (That’s when creating an evil boss becomes important, but now we’re stretching contrivances.)  It does amount to a decent watch today, even though it doesn’t quite pack the punch of White Men Can’t Jump or many of the better action movies of the time. I’d suggest pairing it with the 1970s The Taking of Pelham 123, but Money Train probably wouldn’t sustain the comparison.

  • White Men Can’t Jump (1992)

    White Men Can’t Jump (1992)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) Hustling and basketball—it doesn’t take much than that to get a strong premise for a sports comedy. But what sets White Men Can’t Jump above similar movies is the addition of capable actors such as Woody Harrelson and Wesley Snipes, both at the top of their physical condition, as well as Rosie Perez in one of her best roles. Venice Beach as seen from the bottom rung is interesting, but not as much as the characters trying to hustle their way out of there. Writer-director Ron Shelton has an uncanny grasp of dialogue, athletic ego and not-so-friendly competition—White Men Can’t Jump is never as good as when it’s following our two protagonists on the basketball court, inventively trash-talking their way through their own hustles. The basketball sequences are thankfully convincing. Rosie Perez is also a joy as a motor-mouthed bookworm whose wildest dreams come true through sheer determination. I’m not so happy about the ending of the film (in which a serious conversation could have prevented its bittersweet conclusion) but much of White Men Can’t Jump is still quite a bit of fun to watch.

  • Murder at 1600 (1997)

    Murder at 1600 (1997)

    (On TV, October 2015)  The nice thing about viewing films of a certain vintage is that they can often capture qualities that even skilled admirers can’t quite get.  1997 is now far away enough from 2015 to accumulate a nice patina of historicity, and viewing thrillers of the era can bring back great memories… especially middle-grade examples of the form such as Murder at 1600.  I still remember the over-the-top tough-guy trailer narration (“An address that changes all the rules.”) and seeing it today, the silliness of its best/worse moments (as in: shooting at a helicopter with a handgun and actually managing to hit it) is more charming than infuriating.  Wesley Snipes is, bluntly, not the best choice as the tough cop who gets to investigate a murder at the White House: He’s got the machismo down pat for the action sequences, but it’s hard to actually believe him as a top-notch detective.  But if you think that’s a problem… then you don’t understand the panache of the film.  Murder at 1600 is ridiculous, but unapologetically so, and more than fifteen years later this becomes endearing.  I’m not sure, though, that I would have said the same had I reviewed the film back in 1997.

  • Chaos (2005)

    Chaos (2005)

    (On Cable TV, September 2012) I’m constantly amazed at the number of decent films that fly under my radar.  I had years where I saw more than 70 movies in theaters, and will probably see that many even this year when I’m deliberately avoiding theaters to stay at home watching on-demand movies; I keep up with the trade news and have a fairly reliable mental database of whose in what; I like Jason Statham a lot… why is it that I completely missed seeing Chaos when it came out in 2005?  I can’t explain it… but I can enjoy it, because even on the small screen, Chaos is a decent middle-of-the-road crime thriller.  Featuring Jason Statham, Ryan Phillippe and (briefly) Wesley Snipes in one of his last roles before his 2006-2009 eclipse, Chaos has the advantage of a strong opening and a decent middle section before turning repetitive and overlong in its final act.  There’s playfulness in the way the opening crams a film’s worth of plot in a credit sequence, and then in the way is plays along with traditional genre elements during its first half.  Chaos’ biggest problem is that it doesn’t quite know how to deliver a third act –although, fortunately, it manages a good final scene as a kicker.  Statham is as reliable as always in a solid policeman role, whereas Philippe plays a familiar but ill-fitting young-wunderkind protagonist.  (Snipes, meanwhile, shown up for a while and disappears except when the film needs a scare or two.)  Still, there’s a lot to like about some of the film’s thematic content: As a big fan of James Gleick’s Chaos, I was overjoyed to see the non-fiction science book get a prominent role in a crime thriller.  Still, I think that Chaos will work better for viewers who are receptive to crime-thriller genre elements and the ways they can be blended, recombined and subverted.  It may not be a film for the ages, but it’s good enough at what it does, and it confirms that few actors can be as effective action heroes as Statham.

  • Blade: Trinity (2004)

    Blade: Trinity (2004)

    (In theaters, December 2004) Sigh. As a big fan of both prequels, I guess I’m the only one to blame for my heightened expectations for this third instalment of the series. But after the high standards set by Stephen Norrington and Guillermo del Toro, director David Goyer (who, shockingly enough, also wrote all three film) seems only too happy to deliver the kind of by-the-number B-grade film we see all too often on straight-to-video shelves. Wesley Snipes seems bored by the undead material, or annoyed that the spotlight is off on two younger vampire hunters. Indeed, Jessica Biel has the requisite moves and Ryan Reynolds steals the show with motor-mouth action, but neither of them can do much to rescue Blade III from the doldrums. The dumbing-down trend of the series’ writing continues unabated in this third film, what with a hand-to-hand fighter forgoing her sense of hearing for trip-hop, one of the most boring Draculas in recent memory, useless characters and lame gags all around. Alas, whereas the first two films could rely on some dynamic action, David Goyer’s first effort merely wastes CGI dollars and recycles Hong Kong action moves with no flair. How bad is it? Well how about this: Françoise Yip is in the movie, but her total screen time is measured in seconds. Outrage! See this film out of a sense of duty if you must, but don’t expect much. A sequel is doubtful; maybe it’s better that way.

  • Blade II (2002)

    Blade II (2002)

    (In theaters, March 2002) Once in a while, the mid-twenties male movie geek that I am finds a reason to fall in love with cinema all over again. Strangely enough, truly great films don’t do this as often as flawed B-movies that I happen to really enjoy. Sure, okay, Traffic is a good film, but it doesn’t inspire me to the same level of devotion as the wonderfully quirky Dude, Where’s My Car?. Blade II is one of those films about which I can rave for hours, simply on the basis that it’s one of those all-too rare horror/action film that really push the action quotient to insane levels. It’s furiously paced, it stars a highly charismatic hero (Wesley Snipes, better than ever), it doesn’t skimp on the special effects and gives you a geek-worthy movie experience. Blade II improves on most of the strengths of the original; more action, more vampires and more coolness. (One notable exception is the scant development of the vampire-world mythology, which revert from the original’s “council of vampires” to a more hum-drum “vampire monarchy”) The action sequences are directed with impressive skill and fluidity, though some blurry shots betray an imperfect integration of CGI and live-action elements. For director Guillermo del Toro, this is a triumphant return to mid-budget American films after the tepid Mimic. Perhaps the best thing about Blade II is how much it pushes the limits of its MPAA-approved rating, ending up as one of the hardest-R movies in recent memory. Hence my unconditional love for the film, vampire-slayings and tense action sequences aside; if middle-aged ladies can have their sensitive Bridges Of Madison County and pre-schoolers can have their safe Thomas The Magic Train, then why can’t I get my Blade II? Thank you, Snipes and del Toro; once again, cinema has something to offer me.

    (Second viewing, On DVD, January 2003) Adrenaline junkies should take note that there aren’t many better choices than this one as far as sheer action coolness is concerned. This film doesn’t try to do any anything but bring a kickin’ action comic book to life, and boy does it succeeds like few others. Blade II is packed with cool scenes, loud music and plenty of macho posturing. It’s almost perfect for what it wants to be. The DVD is enough to make any geek fall in love with the film again, as the 2-disc edition is dominated by the imposing presence of director Guillermo del Toro. His candid co-commentary (along with producer Peter Frankfurt) is reason enough to buy the DVD; profane, honest (he regularly points out flaws in the finished film, and is even less merciful with the original script he had to shape up for the screen), quick with an amazing array of classic comic/anime/film references and devastatingly funny, del Toro proves to be the best man for the job and a talent to watch. In comparison, the second commentary (featuring writer David S. Goyer and Wesley Snipes) is a bit too smug and scattered. If you like action movies, this is it; the slam-bang jewel of 2002.

  • Blade (1998)

    Blade (1998)

    (In theaters, August 1998) This is the movie that Spawn tried to be. A very cool comic-book-inspired action-fest starring a bigger than-life superhero against a conspiracy of evil creatures (in this case; vampires). Blade begins with one of the most gripping introduction possible (I won’t spoil it), and if it doesn’t quite maintain this level of energy all throughout the movie, it finishes on an adequately action-packed finale. The direction is kinetic, and the little over-the-top stylistic touches push Blade in the realm of the really cool movies. Wesley Snipes is great, the girls are cute, the hardware is mouth-watering and the villain does a creditable job. It’s not only a B-movie, it’s a B+-movie!

    (Second viewing, On DVD, May 2002) Most dynamic vampire-hunting film ever? Well, not since the sequel came out, but the original Blade still kicks a lot of blood-sucking butt, and the DVD is still one of the best collector’s editions out there. Not only does it include the requisite making-of, but it also features a half-finished alternate ending, plus plenty of discussion about how and why they settled on the finished product. The best thing about the disc, though, is the commentary track, which features snippets from various crew and cast members. Wesley Snipes seems arrogant and silly; Stephen Dorf sounds a bit sloshed and star-stuck. There is a cinematographer that can’t stop bitching about the compromises he must make in his work. A considerable amount of time is spent discussing rejected concepts and alternate sequences. (One of which, the “baby vampire” seems cruelly absent, though the “body freeze” answers one huge logical howler I’d noted in a previous review.) In sum, a very good track that takes some time to deliver, but which really does hold our interest. The filmmakers always knew what kind of movie they wanted to deliver, and the result is there in its full DVD glory. A must-buy if you’re a fan of the film.