Review: END OF DAYS

SCHWARZENEGGER COUNTS DOWN TO EXTINCTION

(reviewed at marple 10 on Friday, November 26th, 1999 with jack, stu, & morton)

   It didn’t matter if you wanted it or not, there had to be one. Just one, at the very least. What the hell am I talking about? Why an armageddon-apocalypse-countdown to extinction-millennium-Hollywood popcorn flick to cap off the first century with film and head into the new millennium’s uncharted territory.
    While the studios did release two asteroid films in ’98 (Armageddon, Deep Impact), this year there hasn’t been a big budget millennium flick yet…until now. Arnold Schwarzenegger no less takes on Satan in End of Days, the newest balls to the wall satanic actioneer where nothing stands in it’s way from becoming one of the stupidest movies in years.
    Schwarzenegger is Jericho Cain, even though they don’t mention his name until the climax. Arnold is a hired security guard who is wrapped up in a plot that involves Satan showing up on Earth and having unwilling sexual relations with a chosen female so that a demon spawn can be created and this in turn will create the end of days.
    “With your last breath,” the devil, in Gabriel Byrne’s body I might add, says, “You shall bear witness to the end of days.”
    So Schwarzenegger helps this 20 year old lass from being raped by Gabrielle Byrne while the whole world is against him, right up until the last possible second of the century.
    I had a lot of fun during End of Days, which is a good thing because that is usually the reason you go to the goddamned multiplex, right? But…Days falters because while they were filming they realized they could not pull this off as a dead serious film. Why? Because Schwarzenegger hasn’t mastered an English accent yet and everything that comes out of his mouth sounds funny. Because of this, the producers added intentional humor with all of this brooding end-of-the-world brewhaha seriousness and it doesn’t work. None of it.
    End of Days is your basic by the numbers action flick. It has nothing fresh or new and the script is downright horrible. The actual plot is decent and it’s great to see the first millennium flick since the excellent  Strange Days, but Schwarzenegger and Co. add nothing new except a few casual laughs and a groan when the credits hit. *1/2

Review: SLEEPY HOLLOW

‘SLEEPY HOLLOW’ IS HEADLESS & PROUD

(reviewed at marple 10 on Friday, November 19th, 1999)

 
 Tim Burton’s latest directorial effort from the fantastically wild Andrew Kevin Walker (Seven, 8MM) script plays out exactly like the sprawled, headless corpses in the film, Sleepy Hollow.
    It’s a great film to look at and to listen to and to just sit back and have a good time with, but it’s missing something vital, just like how the corpses in the flick are missing their heads.
    Johnny Depp is Ichabod Crane, a New York City constable in 1799 who uses science and new technology he has created to solve his cases. Because he is seen as different, the New York City Judge, played by horror maestro Christopher Lee, sends him to the upstate farming community known as Sleepy Hollow. The catch? Three townsfolk had their heads lopped off in only a fortnight. There is a murderer in Sleepy Hollow, so it is Depp’s job to find him and bring him to justice.
    As with any Tim Burton film, and especially with this script, the key is atmosphere. Sleepy Hollow can be described as atmosphere, atmosphere, atmosphere. It’s all the film has going for it. It looks fucking incredible. The sets, the gnarled forest, the houses, the costumes, the time period is perfect, and of course unnatural and spooky at the same time.
    Johnny Depp eventually shows up and is told that the murderer is none other than…a headless horsemen who rides into town from the dark and supernatural western woods and gets a head, then retreats. Depp is a science and facts kind of guy, so he disbelieves this, until he sees it first hand. It is eventually up to Depp and his new found friends to uncover the mystery of the Headless Horsemen.
    The basic story, written by Washington Irving, is one of America’s best tales. While Disney’s cartoon reinforced the masterpiece it would become, the initial concept is jaw droppingly awesome in a scary as shit kind of way. Ichabod on his slow horse in the dark woods with sounds every which way. Suddenly hoof beats, heavy ones, loud noises. Oh shit! It’s a fucking headless horsemen! And depending on your version, he may or may not have a flaming pumpkin. In this one he has masterful skills with a blade he keeps twirling around.
    Tim Burton has done his homework. The movie is all atmosphere and it is very entertaining when compared to any popcorn fare. But…there is a hole in the flick. While you are watching Sleepy Hollow and even afterwards, there is just something missing from the film. It’s all show stopping magic and no heart. It also has a severe identity crisis; is it a love story, a horror story, a supernatural story, an action movie, or all or none?
    Sleepy Hollow is definitely the best eye and ear candy I’ve witnessed in years, and while there are plenty of great things to say about it, in the end it’s missing one important thing; a head. **1/2

Review: THE PRINCE OF EGYPT

POWERFUL ‘POE’ PUTS DREAMWORKS ON THE ANIMATION MAP

(reviewed on ppv, Fri/Sat, Nov.12/13th (holyfield-lewis-2, psu-michigan), 1999

 
 When Dreamworks was created, most film fans thought they were in for a special treat. They thought that Katzenberg and Geffen and Spielberg would redefine Hollywood. Better films, better music albums, and better animated features. Geffen has more or less failed, hasn’t he? His biggest signing contract was for George Michael. I’m guessing you understand where that went. Spielberg actually made The Lost World for Universal, and then Dreamworks two big features of the last two years, Saving Private Ryan, and Deep Impact had to get Paramount to help. Maybe it’s a good idea to share the cost, but c’mon. This is Dreamworks? What happened to the dream? Well, Prince of Egypt came out last December and I did not catch it until almost a year later, so now I can rest easy. They may not be the top money makers out there, but with American Beauty and POE, Dreamworks SKG is finally making some fantastic films to be proud of.
    The reason I adored POE, Katzenberg’s animated Biblical film, is only because of one simple thing; the animation. I have never seen a better looking cartoon in my entire life. Yes, the animals look ridiculously silly and uncoordinated, the people are all lanky and their noses are almost a foot long, but the backgrounds and the camera angles and the colors and the shadows and the entire epic is beautiful. It looks like a great movie. The backgrounds are awesome, the colors majestic. I never thought I would watch a silly little cartoon with bad songs that aren’t even catchy and watch it with my jaw dropped to the ground.
    The film takes it’s story form The Bible’s Exodus section. This is where Moses and Ramses grow up as heirs to the Egyptian Kingdom. Moses finds out that he is not the king’s son but a Hebrew slave. He soon looks at the thousands of slaves as human beings and decides he cannot take it. He travels into the desert and eventually a burning bush talks to him and persuades him to go back and free the Hebrews. Now I am not a die hard Catholic. I haven’t gone to church in years, but the majority of the stories in The Bible I am aware of. As soon as Moses sees the bright colors dancing off a cave I knew it was the burning bush. I was not sure how they would do this. Would they just have a bush on fire talking to him? The result is nothing short of spectacular. It’s powerful. I didn’t expect a stupid cartoon that isn’t made specifically for Sunday school to be so bold, so touching.
    The rest of the film sort of dips into a negative feeling and of course the ending is rejoiceful. The film is short and it seems like the movie needs a little more to it. Plus, the songs are pretty un-singable, though I didn’t hate them.
    There’s a scene where the Hebrews are walking through the parted Red Sea casually, and up in the water a whale just passes by. The light flickers on it’s massive dark shape as it swoops down and passes them. It’s a damn cartoon and I was watching it on a shitty small TV and it still proved to be epic and full of weight.
    Dreamworks definitely has something special with their animation department. I truly can’t wait for The Road to El Dorado. I haven’t been this excited about animation since Scooby Doo and the gang solved the mystery of Shadow Lake. ***1/2

Review: THE BONE COLLECTOR

THE ‘BORE’ COLLECTOR

(reviewed at marple 10 on Sunday, november(to remember) 7th with stu & morton)
 

   If you blame anyone for the mess that is The Bone Collector, blame Thomas Harris, the reclusvie author of The Silence of the Lambs. When that film hit the silver screens, serial killers became chic. It won an Oscar for Best Picture even though it did not deserve to, and became one of the biggest hits in the 1990’s. Now everyone knows who Hannibal ‘The Cannibal’ Lecter is. This past June the sequel to The Silence of the Lambs hit bookstores, and to everyone's shock, the book fucking sucked. Thomas Harris had created an evil, menacing, unforgettable villain played to perfection by Sir Anthony Hopkins, only to put him in a novel where he’s about as scary as the fucking Easter bunny. Harris ruined the entire aura surrounding Lambs, and in doing so, it has come full circle. Serial killer movies are done with.
    Denzel Washington stars as Lincoln Rhyme (it is easy to tell a bad movie by how ridiculous the main character’s name is), a forensic cop in New York City. His job is more or less to go into dark subway tunnels to find corpses. He ends up paralyzed and is stuck writing true crime books. A fresh faced rookie cop played by the red hot Angelina Jolie is working the police beat when she comes across a guy buried alive near train tracks. The killer is leaving clues so they get Lincoln Rhyme to help out and they use the hot babe to do the leg work since he’s well…paralyzed.    The reason The Bone Collector is an awful movie is because you will swear that you have seen the film before. There is not one second in the film that is fresh, that is new, that is exciting or interesting. The serial killer drives a taxi cab and leaves clues that the cops must discover before another body is found. Is it me, or do the cops always solve the clues? It would be great to see some dumb cops who don’t solve the clues, because it would be closer to real life and at least something you haven’t seen before.
    Denzel has officially become a horrible actor in my book. A good actor usually acts well and picks good films. Denzel is an okay actor but he picks the worst movies. Remember last year’s The Siege? That was one of the worst movies ever made. And to add salt to the bleeding wound, the only difference between Denzel’s character in The Siege and The Bone Collector is that in this flick he’s paralyzed. Oh wait, I didn’t mention that he can move his index finger so it’s easy to use a computer mouse.
    Hollywood has really fucked up this time. A bad script, same-old plot, boring beginning, middle, and end, and the finale is laughable. The audience hated this film. I agree wholeheartedly. –NO STARS-
   

Review: AMERICAN BEAUTY

FINALLY, DREAMWORKS SHOWS UP WITH SOMETHING SPECIAL

(reviewed at marple 10 on halloween, 1999 with morton and stu)

   American Beauty was written for the silver screen and never appeared on stage, yet if feels like a Broadway hit in the same vein as a really good dialogue heavy hard-edged play. Kevin Spacey is a suburban husband and 9 to 5er at an advertising agency. Annette Benning is his obsessive wife whose real goal is to be the number one real estate saleswoman in the area. They have a troubled daughter and a shady video camera operating neighborhood boy who expresses zero emotion. His father is a tough military brute.
    This is American Beauty, the simple tale of these character and this life and they attempt to break free from their everyday life and into something, new, fresh, exciting, wonderful.
    Spacey quits his job, blackmails his boss, starts smoking pot and working out and lusts after his daughter’s blonde haired bombshell who is more empty headed then we can imagine. At one point in the film the blonde bimbo asks Spacey, “Am I ordinary?”, as if it were some absurd curse to be the same old thing.
    The film has a rich script which definitely feels like a good play. The film is more character driven then most flicks out there, and this is the reason why it is getting such a good dose of early Oscar buzz and critical raves. Each actor and actress has plenty of room to act their heart out and tons of enthusiastic lines and small character arcs. The plot of the film is more or less another morbid, underbelly of the suburbs type deal, but it plays out well and exciting. The movie starts off minimally okay but ends up growing on you until the final showdown with the rain pouring down and the characters doing their business.
    Kevin Spacey’s final moment with his femme fatale is especially moving, the quietness of the scene and the dialogue between them. The other characters are all well rounded except for the more or less one-note wife, Annette Benning, who isn’t the world’s best actress and proves it here. She doesn’t have much to do and it is extremely obvious that a man wrote the entire thing.
    The story that goes along with how the film ever got made goes like this: Steven Spielberg, one of the honchos at Dreamworks SKG read the script one night and the next day put it on the fast track. They got The Blue Room’s (that play where Nicole Kidman showed off her tits for an extremely short amount of time but because of it the London and New York runs were sold out) Sam Mendes to direct and got a healthy cast and a great set designer and it was their Oscar foray for the last year of the century. This is not the kind of script you would think Spielberg would love, but underneath it all it makes sense. Spielberg is stuck in his good guy happy director phase with his adopted kids and wife. Maybe he liked what Spacey did. Spacey got out of it. He started smoking his pot and lifting weights and exercising and actually got up and out of the endless pit this world supposedly is. Spielberg is like all of us after

all. ***

Review: FIGHT CLUB

RED, WHITE, BLACK & BLUE

(viewed at marple 10 on Sunday, Oct. 24th(havoc) with stu and morton)

    There is a powerful undercurrent running throughout the new David Fincher flick, Fight Club. It has been called ‘male malaise’ in the press, but in my mind it is a feeling more than a defintion. Brad Pitt’s character describes it best when he rambles out a monologue a little past the middle of the film. He more or less says after High School he called up his dad and asked him, “What now?” His dad says go to college. Five years later he calls up his dad and says, “What now?” His dad says get a job. Five years later he calls his dad up and says, “What now?” His dad says get married. This is what the film is all about. You have a job, you have a girl, you have money, nice clothes, but what now? Is that all? You hate your job, you can’t find the perfect girl. Is this it? Is this what you’re supposed to live with? A black hole of life…’male malaise’.
    Edward Norton is a white collar 9-to-5er who hates his job. His apartment is furnished with Ikea-brand furniture. His fridge is empty. He goes to work and comes home. His life is empty, he can’t sleep, he’s losing his mind.
    Norton starts to attend a group therapy (like AA) session with guys who have testicular cancer and cry their eyes out as they each tell their sob stories. Norton doesn’t have testicular cancer but he soon finds it’s a great release to have everyone listen to you and actually care about what you’re saying. He soon gets addicted to group therapy sessions and it helps him sleep.
    He meets a kinetic stranger played by Brad Pitt on an airplane. Pitt is out of his mind and sells soap, but makes a lot of sense. Norton comes home to his apartment which is blown up. He needs a place to stay, he calls Pitt, they meet in a bar, they leave, they start Fight Club.
    The film ventures into some strange areas after the duo begin their underground club. The world is different and alive, and they have it by the balls. No more white collar shit. No more cutting the grass on Saturdays and sipping lemonade next to a wife you don’t care about. Society’s walls are broken down (figuratively and literally) and Norton and Pitt are Gods.
    The film is good because it’s stylish and it makes a lot of sense. It is alive with power and directed extremely well by Fincher whose last outing (The Game) almost killed him. There are a lot of stupid parts about Fight Club. I’m sure the novel by Chuck Palahniuk is much better, but the film has more to it than meets the eye. It’s a nightmare and unrealistic but wild all the same. The ending alone is worth the price of admission. Just the quietness of it all. Everything beforehand is forgotten. It’s a great moment to an uneven movie that has an equal amount of guts and brains. *** (out of ****)

Review: THREE KINGS

RUSSEL & JONZE STRIKE GOLD WITH THREE KINGS

(reviewed at marple 10 on Sunday, october 10th, 1999 with jack –n- stu)

    One of the best aspects of the new Gulf War dramedy, Three Kings, is the simple fact that it has everything. It has laughs, heart, action, independent style and charm, pure Hollywood popcorn elements, some great actors, and an overall wild, nuts, crazy, in-sane feel to it. Three Kings is what good film making is all about. Yes, it has a lot of minor flaws, but overall it’s a solid picture that came straight out of the Hollywood machine. Surprises apparently do still occur.
    Mark Wahlberg, Ice Cube, and the hilarious scene-stealing Spike Jonze play three military brats post-Gulf War. They find a map that will lead them to gold bullion that Saddam Hussien and Iraq have stolen from Kuwait. George Clooney is an officer that finds out about the trio’s plans. He joins them and soon enough they’re off for the loot.
    The flick starts as a fun romp through the blue skied, dry-as-a-bone desert, but soon ends up as a moral victory type of film.
    The soldiers’ map leads them into an Iraquian desert village where the avergage citizens are being silenced by the strong armed Saddam army. They want their deserved freedom while the U.S. is cheering an apparently bittersweet victory.
    The plot of the film can be described as warped. It goes from one extreme to the next, and eventually plays out like a basic Hollywood film, though the outrageous style of the film is enough to realize that Three Kings is far from basic Hollywood, it’s essentially the first mainstream Independent thus far this year.
    David O. Russel and Spike Jonze deserve the most credit for this feature. Russel hit it big at Sundance with his independent incest flick, Spanking the Monkey, and later went on to direct Flirting With Disaster. For his next picture he was flipping through the Warner Brothers script collection and came upon John Ridley’s Spoils of War (Ridley wrote the novel Stray Dogs which turned into Oliver Stone’s noir film, U-Turn), a simple action film about Gulf War soldiers who find a treasure map.
    Russel studied up on the Gulf War and soon enough churned out a script that held very little resemblance to Ridley’s script. Ridley was furious about how he was treated through the ordeal. Russel admits Ridley is just mad his script has almost nothing to do with the finished flick.
    Fuck controversy, Russel knows what he is doing, no matter how much of an a-hole he is. His script is great, full of fleshed out cartoon-like but likable characters with witty lines and a lot of hilarious and furious action scenes. His filming style is wild and out-of-control in the Oliver Stone essence. He used the movie’s actual film backwards to achieve a grainy effect. He edited slow-mo techniques and closeups and shaky-cam shots.
    He knows what he’s doing.
    And speaking of knowing what you’re doing, Spike Jonze steals every frame of film he is in. Granted, Mark Wahlberg proves once again he’s a great actor, and Jamie Kennedy is pretty funny, but George Clooney and Ice Cube are just showing basic skills. Jonze started as a music video director. His biggest hits were Weezer’s ‘Buddy Holly’, Beastie Boy’s ‘Sabotage’, and Fat Boy Slim’s ‘Praise You’, where he starred as the leader of the fictional Torrance Community dance group. This fall he married Francis Ford Coppola’s daughter, Sophia Coppola (she was the Italian chick that the critics panned in The Godfather III), and his directorial debut, Being John Malkovich hits.
    Spike Jonze has been behind the scenes long enough. Finally he’s proving what a great actor he is. As Conrad, the white-collar backwoods idiot hick, he provides the majority of the humor and in the end we find that he may just be an annoying Detroit redneck, but we actually care about him.
    Jonze and Russel prove that good movies actually do come out of Hollywood. ***