Kuntos_the_Destroyer Reviews

Red Dragon (2002)

What? No Inaga Davida?

[7/10 · 5 October 2002]

Ok, so apart from that track O didn't really miss Michael Mann's music of choice for his 1986 Red Dragon adaptation Manhunter (and I REALLY didn't miss Strong As I Am). Manhunter's one of those films which always inspires useless debate among fans and detractors. Is it an overly glossy 80s thriller or an almost visionary film on the ability to empathize with evil and its consequences? Is it better than Silence Of The Lambs? Is Brain Cox' calculating sophisticated Lecktor (yes, that's how it's spelled in that film) better than OTT-Anthony's Lecter? Whichever way you feel about the answers, I always thought Manhunter's protagonist, Will Graham, was a million times more interesting than Clarice Starling and the same goes for Manhunter's serial killer on-the-loose, the Toothfairy. Still, Strong As I Am IS a godawful piece of music.....

So I was never entirely opposed to the idea of a remake (from source material). Especially since Manhunter leaves at least one hugely fascinating aspect of Thomas Harris novel untapped (that whole red dragon-thing). And when Hannibal, which turned a thriller into a twisted romance-cum-hamfest, made a gazillion dollars, you knew it was going to happen. It's not as though Harris churns out the Lecter novels at the speed of light. So then Silence-scripter Ted Tally became involved. He would no doubt turn (and in fact has turned) a sickening subject to something acceptable to your average middle-aged, middle-class and generally jolly suburbian. And when you put the not-too-heavyweight Brett Ratner behind the camera, you know what this movie is going for: the crowd-pleasing approach. The ending in particular (much like SOTL's) is a typical set-piece, devoid of thematic interest. Also, Hannibal is now onscreen for 20 minutes, whilst the movie really only requires him for 10. That's a shame, because I still believe that somewhere in Red Dragon is the story of the dehumanizing detective and the humanizing serial killer or at least something more than 120 minutes of tension.

The main problem I have with the film is that neither screenwriter nor director seem to connect with the Will Graham character. Thus the theme of his ability to empathize with serial killer, which is predominant in Manhunter, is mentioned but never really developed. When he goes to talk with his mentor/ nemesis, Hannibal, the sense of fear is not one of being confronted with his own innate capacity for evil, but it's one springing from the pretty rational fear you'd have for someone who stabbed and almost killed you. There are little touches here and there that add to that idea. For instance, in Manhunter's first scene the photos of the murdered families become a threat. In this film, they're merely shown. Also, a crucial sequence in Manhunter features Graham walking through the victims' house talking to himself as though he's the killer. It is completely absent here. The fact Ed Norton chooses to play Graham more internally than William Petersen isn't necessarily a wrong one, but because of Ratner's reliance of two-shot set-ups, it doesn't really work either. And that's the film's second problem, sometimes you feel Ratner isn't really helping his cast with his fondness of the close-up. This is a shame, because the acting is pretty good. Hopkins is more angry than he's ever been and he isn't half as hammy as the trailers make him appear. Still, the stand-outs are Ralph Fiennes and Emily Watson. Their scenes together are the hightlights of the film.

And there's more good to be had. The addition of the opening sequence and the climax may have been misjudged in my opinion, but the addition of the Toothfairy's connection with the Red Dragon is essential. And his scene with the piece itself is a corker. Far more relevant however is the fact that no matter which way you look at it, Red Dragon is tense. Especially when Fiennes make his entrance into the film.

So what you have here is a film that seen as entertainment is simply very good. On a deeper level, only the development of the Toothfairy makes it interesting and the handling of Graham is a bit weak, but who's going to look deeper when a film's more than entertaining enough for two hours? Oh, and did I mention it doesn't have Strong As I Am in it?

Rating: 7/10

Ichi the Killer (2001)

Call me jaded, call me a sadist, but....

[8/10 · 11 August 2002]

SPOILERS ....I didn't feel Ichi The Killer to be as visceral as it's reputation. While that certainly doesn't mean it's not revolting or disgusting (I'll get back to that), it's visual representation of violence is hardly shocking enough to justify the kind of walk-outs you frequently here about (in a local sneak preview about half the audience - 110 people - 'ran in fear and disgust'). Why didn't the violence shock me head-on? First of all, much of it is obviously CG, like the infamous Hannibal climax. Second, much of it (though certainly not all) is played so much for laughs. And third, the gore's frequently repetitive, so much so that you'll be pretty desensitized by the end (by the third blood-erupting volcano of a throat you'll be too bored to even care). But beyond the simple fact that my stomach is apparently made of reinforced concrete, this is still a pretty shocking film, especially if you can derive actual enjoyment from it.

The fake feel of certain effects and their repetitiveness doesn't change the fact that thinking this up and throwing it on the silver screen is a pretty sick idea. Indeed, Ichi The Killer is so sick in every aspect you kind of wonder what Miike Takeshi's idea was: is it just to see what today's audience will swallow? Is it his reaction to our pre-occupation with entertainment that panders to our dark sides? And the amount of blood and guts pervading the screen is just the beginning. This is not a mere splatter-film. Nor it is a black comedy. Staples of both genres are here in abundance, but Ichi The Killer is something different. Frequently, people have pointed out the film's misogynist view of women. And it's true, every single woman in this film appears in a sexually oriented (and brutally violent) scene. There isn't a woman with depth in the entire film. But wait, there isn't a man with depth either. While you may think of Ichi as a psychosexually disturbed man, it simply isn't so. His character is basically blowing up all those Japanese society cliches (the bullied child, the sexually repressed, the video game addict) to such ridiculous proportions you just can't take it seriously. In my opinion, it's Miike testing us further. First, we may think it's a story about a clearly psychotic murderer who has been manipulated into his actions, but then Miike pulls the rug from under our feet and we discover that Ichi was never bullied, he never witnessed a rape. A deep statement about the intrinsic sadism in everyone of us? You decide. Anyhow, Ichi isn't a character of any depth, he's just hypnotized and transformed into Jiji's chess piece. Kakahira is the yakuza figure blown up to epic proportions, he's the ultimate masochist but also a sadist for sure, but is he a character of any depth? And is the depiction of men any more rosy than that of women? Even the ex-cop is a revenge-obsessed idiot. I'm not trying to excuse the film's misogyny, I'm just pointing out it isn't very fond of the male gender either.

And that's I think the ultimate joke the film's playing on us. It's a film that's full of unrealistic and unlikable characters. They are somewhere in a shadowy world between comic book idiocy and psychosexual insanity portrait. We can't feel for any of them, so we probably don't oppose their (gory!) deaths that much. Whether you take the events seriously or not (and you shouldn't, by the way), it's a film in which there is nothing to compensate for the escalating violence. And that is its point. It's there so I can't intellectualise my enjoying it like I can with most American violent films. It wants to desensitize you and for you to write on the IMDb it has some really groovy camera angles (and it does). By the end you won't care what Ichi will do to the group of school children he really shouldn't be escorting. It, however, is not hypocritical like, say, Gladiator, in that it doesn't supply the violence and tell you not to enjoy it at the same time. The point of this film is being bad and so violent you'll still sit through it. The fact that it wasn't the gore but the sick nature of its ideas is what made me stay probably doesn't point to just a really tough stomach after all. And people who leave before the ending turn out to be right.

Rating: 5/10 (because and despite of the fact I enjoyed it a lot)

Panic Room (2002)

Fincher goes Hitchcock or Fincher goes commercial?

[6/10 · 12 May 2002]

***Minor spoilers

Let's get one thing out of the way first; David Fincher is my favorite director. He has a talent for using all tricks in the cinematic book in a way that perfectly marries the content. He also always makes the most out of every script, which means the comparative quality of the movie relies strongly on the quality of the script Fincher has to work from. Alien 3 was a false start for Fincher, a mangled and predictable script made watchable by excellent direction and some good acting. In the cases of Se7en and Fight Club the screenplays were brilliant and so are the movies. The Game has a script that's slightly more streamlined toward being a full-blown blockbuster, but contains enough subtext to be fascinating in its own right; so is the film. This brings us to his latest film and a strong contender for the worst screenplay Fincher has worked from (yes, that includes Alien 3 and his Madonna videos).

I won't even begin summing up all the plot holes David Koepp has come up with (ripped off is more accurate). And the fact he's aware of some of them (a villain says `we could've done that' after Jodie Foster's Meg Altman smashes the cameras) doesn't make them any less dumb. There's a case to be made for characters not behaving completely rational in the circumstances the movie presents, but Panic Room frequently stretched my ability to suspend my disbelief. Fincher does a good job of masking some of them (apart from one particular and far too explosive sequence), but no amount of great directing could ever compensate for the script's inclination towards cheap thrills.

Koepp's screenplay is conceptually quite strong but turns out to be not only a shelter for plot holes you could build a panic room in, but also a collection of ideas that you could call 'tried-and-tested'. I would rather call them tired-and-testing. You've heard the derogatory terms before; it's Die Hard in a house! or: it's a grown-up Home Alone! - although to be fair the Home Alone flicks are far more sadistically violent. There's truth to both labels, but it goes beyond that. A scene echoing Rear Window I can forgive, but does that cops-knocking-on-the-door sequence have to be lifted from Bound entirely? And is it just me or does the (in itself excellent) opening sequence merely update the one from North by Northwest? Then there's the use of plot devices so familiar you have trouble actually remembering in what film you've seen it before (because it's ten movies, not one). The best example may be the diabetic kid fitted as standard.

Another thing I appreciate in Fincher's other films is the amount of depth he finds room for. One thing becomes clear when watching this film, it's Fincher's Hitchcock project, a thriller played straight with some technical wizardry supporting it (lots of CG camerawork and a reverse dolly zoom, a technique pioneered by Hitch in Vertigo, as the final shot), but a thriller which mainly goes for suspense. While Fincher's direction goes a long way in the suspense department (he cleverly bypasses the predictability of the screenplay) he doesn't seem to have applied any knowledge about why (certain) Hitchcock films are still interesting. Those films' main strength are the strong psychological themes throughout (Psycho, Rear Window and Vertigo). While Koepp makes some desperate resort to Altman's claustrophobia, it doesn't really go for that angle. In fact it doesn't seem to go for any psychological angle at all. As such, I found it too plot driven and lacking characters I really connected with. That lack of depth in any sense may not kill the movie, but it does reinforce my impression that this is Fincher's 'good-career-move' flick. A straight, stylish thriller with plenty box office potential but little substance. It feels somewhat like a film to rebound his career after cult hit Fight Club became a box office dud.

BUT....like I said, while the writing on this film isn't anything to be proud of, in terms of bringing it to screen there are little errors. Fincher succeeds in drawing tension from the most trivial of scenes, using his trademark bag of tricks. He's helped by Howard Shore's fitting soundtrack as well. Again every one of his shots is interesting in itself while they still serve a function, which is atmosphere. It's not as doom-laden as Se7en but threat is always sustained throughout. Panic Room isn't simply stylistically satisfying the way most Hollywood movies are nowadays. It goes beyond that. Technically, this really is a masterpiece. Also, Fincher gets the best out of his cast. Foster has a few truly wonderful (short and emotional) beats, while also showing being capable of handling a physical role such as Meg's. And the triple act of the burglars works wonders, even if Dwight Yoakam goes far OTT by the end.

So how to rate a film which I thoroughly enjoyed due to direction, acting and the excellent work by all technical departments (the set-design is absolutely brilliant, as is the cinematography), but rubbed me the wrong way it terms of writing? Hollywood High Concept filmmaking and Hitchcockian direction go head to head in this one (where they should have gone hand to hand), and I feel the first wins in the long run. Make no mistake, I DID have a good time watching this, but will I be talking about it in a week or so? No, and that's less than I expect from Fincher.

Rating: 6/10

Mulholland Drive (2001)

Taking the first exit off the Lost Highway...

[9/10 · 23 April 2002]

***Spoilers

When watching a film like Mulholland Drive (although, with the exception of David Lynch' earlier work in general and Lost Highway specifically, there are very, very few films like Mulholland Drive), a lot of questions rise. The central one when discussing them is in how far does a movie have to be explained rationally or interpreted in a logical manner. Many people commenting on this film say it's a mosaic of dreams, present reality and flashbacks and because of the 'dream logic' of it any attempt at rationally explaining the film will be useless. But in my opinion you can still say sensible things about the movie based on what you interpret as dreams, present reality and flashbacks. Also, and perhaps even more interestingly, you can discuss the representation of those three (not necessarily discrete) elements in cinematic form. Another way of approaching this film is saying there really is a rational explanation for all of it, even if that explanation relies heavily on the idea that events are being distorted by the protagonist's subconscious.

The second approach most often (I know there are different possibilities) leads to an interpretation that says the film's first two hours are actually a final dream of the Diane Selwyn character. A dream which starts out idyllic with her finding a woman she eventually falls in love with and her career progressing steadily. A dream which mirrors her own story about what happened to her in her search for stardom, and consequently also mirrors why she didn't find it. The blue box suddenly appearing at Club Silencio forms, much like the ear in Blue Velvet, the transition point between dream and reality. In this interpretation the final twenty minutes of the film consist of flashbacks to what happened to Diane in reality. It's a reading of the film that goes far towards explaining it completely. But not all the way.

Much like Lost Highway, although it's more obvious in Mulholland Drive, there is one problem with this interpretation, which is the perspective. If you consider part of the film a dream, why does that part contain scenes the dreaming person would not have dreamt (in my opinion, of course). For instance, the alleged dream part contains a scene with two cops discussing the car crash. Could Diane have known about that? Is it possible to have a dream that spans multiple weeks? I don't think so. And that's where the questions of cinematic representation pop up. Mulholland Drive cannot be fully explained in a rational manner because Lynch allows reality, dream and flashback and narrative flow into each other. He's doesn't just resist going for the traditional narrative structure; he's not going for the traditional narrative altogether. He knows it's impossible to force dreams into that traditional narrative. Filmmaking has a logic of it's own that is not naturally imposed upon our dreams. So it's not only a case of dream logic seeping into cinema but also cinematic logic seeping into dreams. In this way Lynch turns 'the dream' into a cinematic reality with only clues to guide us to its falsehood. The movie consists of two definite and different cinematic realities, both equally important.

What Lynch is trying to do is give us an extremely dark, sarcastic view of Hollywood and the way one woman's search for stardom ends in tragedy because of the place's workings. Some ways in which he attacks Hollywood are quite obvious (the director being forced the hire Camilla), some ways are more ingenious (the different roles The Cowboy plays in 'the dream' and 'reality'). In the dream, all odds may be against Betty, but at least she has Rita to fall back on. In reality, Camilla betrays her far more strongly than Hollywood ever did. So, in Hollywood, even the one you trust most could betray you, seems to be (part of) the point. In the dream, Diane covers this fact up by resorting to dramatic conspiracy theories continually denying Rita's betrayal and her own guilt about having Rita killed over her betrayal.

This is how I read the film and certainly not the only or the right way it can be explained. But one can find some twisted logic it and it's not necessary to discard it as pretentious nonsense or to resort to saying it can never be resolved and therefore it's unnecessary to try.

But did I enjoy it? Well, any movie that compels you to think like Mulholland Drive has to have something going for it, right? And apart from that, I enjoyed every aspect of the production. The cinematography's brilliant, the soundtrack perfect, the acting more than Oscar-worthy and so-on. And trust me, I didn't have any difficulty with the lesbian love scenes either. It may have surprised me more had I never seen Lost Highway (that film may have a completely different setting but certain themes, like jealousy and betrayal are repeated and so are some of the characteristic storytelling methods) and there is the odd scene that DOESN'T work (the extended hitman sequence which plays like something out of a Tarantino flick, for instance). Still, it's a film filled with intrigue, mystery and occasional black humour, as entertaining as it is complex. Truly brilliant.

Rating: 9/10

Fight Club (1999)

I am Jack's need for multiple comments

[10/10 · 23 April 2002]

I recently saw Panic Room, which was so commercial it brought up an old question. A question which I thought was interesting enough to write a second Fight Club comment about (trust me, it's the first and only time).

So why does a movie attacking consumerism contain the flashiest style you've ever seen? Why is it so spectacular? For the same reason it's loaded with advertising messages (check all those Starbucks cups!). It's not hypocrisy, it's irony. To get the movie's messages to a large audience, it has to be flashy and spectacular, because else we probably wouldn't be watching. We are all part of the same hypocrisy, especially the filmmakers (didn't anybody see the irony in casting pretty-boy Brad Pitt, having him criticize the Calvin Klein-ideal of a man only to show off his hard abs a couple of scenes later?). The film is counter-culture but all counter-culture is part of the culture it's rebelling against. To deny that, to deny this film was made to make money; that would've been hypocritical. What it does instead, is realise the inherent problem in adapting a book into an art form that is almost by definition commercial (you can't afford to make movies nobody's willing to pay to see) and play into that. It exaggerates Hollywood conventions to a level where it's kind of ridiculous. It doesn't attack the stylistics themselves but our preoccupation with seeing them (much like it doesn't attack personal property but consumerism instead - there's a significant difference). It gives us what we want (exactly the same goes for the movie's ending) but in a way that's so over the top you can't help but look at it with a big smile on out faces.

And big smiles is what this film is after as much as contemplation. Fight Club is not some heavy study of today's society and it certainly doesn't provide all the answers to the questions it poses. It's a comedy and a smart one too, because it realises sometimes merely highlighting the questions is enough. Fight Club is not fascist, not hypocritical and not the answer (as another commenter already pointed out; if you liked it, you're probably part of the problem). Fight Club just is.

Rating: (still) 10/10

Dark City (1998)

Where am I, who am I and have the Wachoskis read the script I'm in?

[9/10 · 18 April 2002]

When The Matrix was released, a lot of people got considerably excited. More than a few sci-fi diehards, however, pointed out that, at some points, The Matrix is very, very similar to Alex Proyas 1998 film Dark City, which hadn't been as much of a success as The Matrix. And both movies are indeed similar. Both The Matrix and Dark City deal with worlds that are not at all what they seem to be and ordinary people finding out there's a saviour in them as well. Beyond that, both films are amalgams of pop culture; everything from Philip K. Dick to comic books went into the blender when making either of them (although Dark City is more film noir than Hong Kong-style action fest). Then there's the presence of seemingly invincible bad guys (of course dressed in token black) - with the spoon bending kid from The Matrix portraying one of them in Dark City. Even some of Dark City's sets were used in The Matrix.

If you think this is leading to a comment where I criticise The Matrix for being a mass-marketed rip-off of Dark City: It's not. The Matrix is a hugely popular film for a reason: it's good. The Wachowski brothers' mixture of pop culture, philosophy and computer science is a far more a science fiction film than Dark City. The Matrix is more grounded in our daily reality than Dark City, what is presented is more an extension of our current technological knowledge than a pure fantasy. Because that's the direction Dark City takes in the final reel. The Matrix also has a level of complexity and depth (the nature of reality and perception of it, the birth and evolution of consciousness) which Dark City does not possess. Thematically it's limited to one question, albeit an interesting one: are we humans defined by our past, our memories or is there something else which constitutes our soul? (can you guess the film's answer, by the way?). But defending The Matrix against people who dislike it simply because Dark City predates it, is not my (whole) point.

That whole point is that both movies are in different ways extremely entertaining. I've discussed The Matrix' merits over Dark City. Now the other way around. Dark City is fast, very fast. It races along at absolute top speed. Certain points are made in scenes no longer than a few seconds. Even the dialogue scenes race by, with director Alex Proyas creating a brilliant feel of constant pursuit. And it never lets up. Basically it's a two-hour plus epic squeezed into ninety minutes, which considering all those awfully stretched out three-hour movies that seem almost standard nowadays (Pearl @%^@# Harbour, anyone?) is a bit of a switch. If your attention drops for one second, you'll miss something. And even with constant attention, you'll probably miss something too. And there's a lot to be missed. The sets are absolutely amazing, most special effects are too and the soundtrack (constantly present, even during dialogue scenes, heightening the film's pace even more) is brilliant. In such a powerhouse of moviemaking, actors tend to get lost but here only Kiefer Sutherland does. His Mengele-with-guilt character is no more than the addition of a couple mannerism and a peculiar speech pattern. Rufus Sewell is wonderful as confused saviour, however and so is the rest, who give either beautiful melancholic performances (William Hurt and the often underrated Jennifer O'Connely) or really weird (and occasionally funny) ones (Richard O'Brien).

The big surprises are hinted at early and many, but it doesn't matter because so strong is the sense of forward motion throughout the film you'll be waiting what Proyas will come up with next. And he keeps the best for last. A great twist, a transcendental awakening, a final battle, a victory for individuality and a load of special effects which even makes The Matrix look understated, it's the perfect climax to 90-minutes of near-perfect sci-fi pop culture mish-mash. It may have a video clip style, but Dark City is only MTV-moviemaking if you don't use the term in a derogatory fashion. It's a film aimed at people more responsive to audiovisual stimuli (you simply can't miss the Blade Runner reference) than verbalized ones, but also one that's as fluent in its storytelling as any other classic masterpiece you may be thinking of. It may not be perfect (the opening voice-over is possibly the best reason to quit that awful Hollywood test screening practice right now) and it's highly derivative (the memory-swapping plot is pure K. Dick) but as far as '90's science fiction goes this is up there with the best of the best (which is, you guessed it, The Matrix).

Rating: 9/10

Amélie (2001)

Made me walk out with a huge almost ear-to-ear smile on my face

[9/10 · 1 April 2002]

With all the praise this movie has already received, my comments run the risk of sounding completely redundant. I'll try to keep it interesting anyway. Jean-Pierre Jeunet is well known for his collaborations with Marc Caro, the results of which are displayed in the visually lavish but emotionally empty films of Delicatessen and The City Of Lost Children. They are fairytale films set in fantastical worlds. They are also dark movies. Both of which I enjoy. What made the films overcome their lack of emotion for me was the strong atmosphere. And with Amelie, Jean-Pierre Jeunet has brought his skill to create such an atmpshere to a brighter kind of fairytale. And even a cynical moviegoer such as myself must admit it works wonders.

The characters of Amelie inhabit some world located between the full fantasy world of Jeunets previous efforts and a real place. Paris, as seen in Amelie, isn't the real place. And many of the characters aren't real people. They aren't allowed to develop into real people. These are the main elements Jeunet brings along from his earlier films. On the other hand, he's determined to create a main character with whom it's easier to identify with than his usual protagonists, and even though Amelie is an introverted eccentric, she never becomes any less than a believable human being. Most of this is of course thanks to the brilliant performance by Audrey Toutou. She's an unusually charismatic presence in this film. And while she may be the heart, soul and title character of the film, the rest of the cast root their archetypes in real human emotion, creating a set of figures easy to connect with on an emotional level. Jeunet has understood, fairytales aren't merely about the magical woods, big dragons or the intellectual interpretation of its meanings, they're about empathizing with the characters.

Jeunet also tries hard to bring some innovation into the genre of the romantic comedy. He does this by inserting streaks of fantasy, humour that actually is funny (the suicide fish, anyone?) and every cinematic trick in the book. Indeed, stylistically a film Amelie is strongly connected to is Fight Club. It takes the visual audacity of that film, but replaces its darkness and its cynicism by bright, vibrant colours and sheer happiness. And because it's so honest and so incredibly funny, this feelgooder did something no Hollywood feelgooder could ever do: it actually made me feel good. Good examples of extraordinary use of cinematic trickery abound in Amelie. But just when you think his box of tricks is going to overwhelm the underlying emotional story, Jeunet captures the emotion perfectly. Easiest example: the wonderfully understated kissing scene. And Jeunet has also discovered to use his trickery for more than creating atmosphere; he now uses them as storytelling tools.

Now, amidst the truckloads of positive review for Amelie, there were a few detractors. The main points of criticism: sentimentality and right-wing propaganda/racism. The point about Amelie being sentimental is, I feel, utter rubbish. Yes, it's a happy film, and no, it has no cynicism about it whatsoever. But does Jeunet ever allow sickly saccharine cliches to enter the equation? Does false emotion ever take over? Definitely not. His Paris may be an imagined or rather fondly remembered one and not even related to the existing place, but's it's a fairytale to begin with, like his previous films. It doesn't aim for realism. What Jeunet wants to do is reaffirm your belief in the fact that true love is out there and that little things can make a difference. All he wants you to do is to walk out of your cinema with a big happy smile on your face. Avoiding the harsher sides of daily life in order to achieve this is not sentimentality, it's optimism. The second complaint involves apparent racism in the film, for while its Paris may be part fantasy, why are ethnic groups left out to such an extent (the real Paris like all huge cities is a melting pot of cultures)? Honestly, this never ever occured to me while watching the film. There may be a rich vein of nostalgia throughout, a kind of conservative longing for simpler times gone by, for sure, but this is hardly enough to connect it to right-wing propaganda and certainly not racism. And he or she who looks closely WILL notice ethnic minorities in Jeunets Paris, that they are not among the protagonists was doubtlessly not something the makers were very conscious about. It's about hiring the right people for the jobs, about creating an environment for the character of Amelie that may not be realistic but must be believable in a way. It's not about equal opportunity. So for me, these critics tried to find flaws a little too desperately.

Amelie, c'est parfait, then? No, for me, it wasn't perfect either. But the flaws I can find are so tediously irrelevant for the enjoyment of this film they're hardly worth discussing. Still, a slight annoyance was that Amelie sometimes doesn't do well (although she means it well). In a scene Collignon is nearly electrocuted. There's something judgemental and unproductive in her actions against him. Funny and motivated they may be, for me they didn't work as do-gooding. Does that detract from its entertainment value? Not really.

And since there's actually a lot more to it than a simple romcom (there's the Lady Di angle, plus all the wonderful underlying stories about chance, destiny and taking actions to ‘guide' both, and a lot of extras, like, say, the scene in which Amelie watches the reaction to her death or summarizing characters in likes and dislikes) I believe this really is one of the best films I've seen the last few years. In one word: wonderful.

Rating: 9/10

Citizen Kane (1941)

Greatest Movie Ever?

[8/10 · 1 April 2002]

Most of the IMDb-comments singularly focus on whether or not this film is the Greatest Movie Ever Made. To me, the question is completely irrelevant. I feel you can't appreciate movies without somehow connecting them to your own system of experiences and resulting convictions. Since everyone has different experiences (that goes for the movie viewing experiences as well) we all connect differently to different films. I believe it's impossible to look at a film from an objective perspective external to yourself. Even if you could scale the variables there's no objective way of saying this film has the Best Script, the Best Acting or Directing or whatever. What such judgements frequently represent is some form of idea that objectiveness is attainable. What they really mean is hard to determine. Does this film with its story of a man having every physical possession anyone could ever want, but not that which he truly desires, (still) strike a chord with that many people? Or is it a self-fulfilling prophecy in that when people watch the film known as The Greatest Ever, they will see exactly that?

Maybe it's a little bit of both, but a definite and undeniable important factor is how it revolutionized moviemaking. We can in the least and objectively say Orson Welles' debut did that. Everything from its non-linear story structure to its visual ambitions were extremely novel at the time (especially in American cinema), far more so than what we're used to hailing as 'revolutionay' moviemaking nowadays. Cameras that seem more mobile than ever before, extraordinary use of Gregg Toland's deep-focus photography, brilliant make-up and innovative editing (the shot fading into a newspaper picture) are some examples of the film's technical inventiveness.

The inventiveness employed in writing Citizen Kane is slightly less impressive if you look at the film retrospectively, as it did not revolutionize moviemaking as much as the film's techniques did. However, the script still stands tall above most others. It paints the life of Charles Foster Kane post-mortem, as a collection of visually-represented memories of him related to an investigating reporter by the people who 'knew' Kane best. In this manner, the movie builds brick upon brick of an idea of who Charles Foster Kane was, but only in our heads. The film continually shows him not from his own perspective but from that of others. This does not necessarily lead to contemplating in how far there still is an 'real' Kane, and in how far he is just the product of the people's subjective memories. But it does lead to starkly contrasting perspectives of the man. A foolish arrogant businessman, a ruthless megalomaniacal man uncapable of love or a enthusiastic young man brought down by his own success? The character of Kane is all and neither and only in our minds do the differing views of him coalesce to an idea of the complete man. Important for forming this idea is the grounding of the story in the newsreel which starts the film. It serves as a media perspective on the man, a perspective created by media he himself helped to create. It's completely over the top with its narration and totally believable as an actual newsreel, and here it serves as a skeleton.

Central to the story is its plot of a faceless reporter trying to find the meaning behind Kane's final spoken word 'Rosebud'. When we find out what it means we don't. We find out what if refers too, but are we ever told why is it exactly this word he chose to use as his last one? No, because we're meant to fill it in ourselves. In my mind it refers to the only time in his life where he had but did not consciously acknowledge the one thing he really wanted, namely love. The rest of his life he pursues it but finds he himself has none to give. What he has to give is money, charisma, talent and more money, but as a man he's as emotionally bankrupt as he could be. Therefore he never receives any and dies a bitter man. The most important question this always raises to me is why did Kane have no love to give? For me, the answer lies, at least in part, in the ridiculous ammount of assets entrusted to the man. Kane is a man who, from a certain (early) point in his life was trained to be of of the leading men in the world's economy. But also a man who was given the resources to indulge in anything he might want to do. A product of and for the industrial age if there ever was one. 'Regular' people growing up in 'regular' environments have to develop a capacity for loving other ones, independent of whether or not the are known to them. Kane never has to develop this capacity. To put it in his words:"If I wouldn't have had so much money, I would've been a great man. Under the circumstances I think I did pretty well."

A term like Greatest Film Ever may sound like nonsense to me, but that doesn't mean I have no opinion. There's no doubting Citizen Kane's importance in the history of cinema and there's no doubting how intricate this film is in presenting a picture of a man (who, of course, was to great extent William Randolph Hurst - Orson Welles even uses dialogue that quotes the man!). I enjoyed it tremendously, also not in the least due to the expert performances by Joseph Cotton and Welles himself. And I feel it's techniques are dynamic enough to stand up to most of today's efforts. It did never connect to me in a way that made me think it's the undisputed masterpiece people say it is. Indeed, it found it emotionally too distant at times. For me, not The Greatest Film, not My Favourite Film (something I do believe in), just a really good one.

Rating: 8/10

Ali (2001)

Not the knock-out it could and should have been.

[6/10 · 21 March 2002]

There was a lot of hype surrounding Ali, which it never really lived up to. It may have got two Oscar noms, but that's not even close to what was expected from The Insider-director Michael Mann. And the very disappointing box-office came as a surprise as well. But it's my belief that awards and ticket sales usually don't provide any measure of quality, so the question rises: Is Ali really a disappointment?

Well, the answer very much depends on what you are expecting. If you are expecting a straight biography, where all the facts of Ali's life are summed up en where we get some insight into the person behind the icon, you will not find it here. The film concentrates on the ten years between his beating Sonny Liston until the legendary Rumble In The Jungle-fight with George Foreman. And along the way, yes, multiple events are neatly ticked off the this-is-Ali's-life list. The women he married, the draft-dodging and his connection with Malcolm X are all there, but the way Mann approaches the material is far from the standard biography method. He flies past certain key moments in Ali's life while lingering on seemingly less relevant ones. He does this mainly by inserting long musical montages during which nothing really spectacular happens. This is definitely not as prosaic as most Hollywood biographies. And it also doesn't find much need to insert audience pleasing sappy nonsense like the more Oscarfriendly A Beautiful Mind. In fact, what Mann has created is an almost impressionistic view of Ali, more a tribute to the man than a biography.

This shows in one element particularly: although we get to see behind the curtains to catch a glimpse of Ali's home life, Mann never for a second explores his psyche. You won't come walking out of this film with any idea of why Ali did what he did. Mann doesn't seem interested in getting inside Ali's head, he's not concerned with his motivations. What he is concerned with is the actions Ali undertook that made him such an icon. It's rather disappointing that Mann doesn't attempt to show what the effects of these actions on society were. That does give the film a feel of shallowness. The fact that his interpersonal relations are so thinly sketched also makes it a relatively distanced film. Mann does start off brilliantly. The opening montage, accompanied by only one song of the top-notch soundtrack, shows Ali's confrontation with racism during his youth, his preparation for the Sonny Liston fight and a musical performance intercut together. It's a great way to start the movie, and it highlights the way an impressionist viewing of one's life can work, but subsequently it flies off track a little bit more by the minute, because you realise more and more this isn't going to be anywhere near as coherent or emotionally gripping as The Insider was.

Movie biographies are a tough genre I think (pretty much everything that attempts to be largely realistic is), A completely realistic biograhpy cannot exist, not just but also because of the fact a person's life has to be condensed into a less-than-three hour running time. Choosing what to include and thus what to exclude already changes the subject the film describes, so although the historical liberties taken here are slightly less ‘extravagant' than in say A Beautiful Mind, the film still flies past interesting elements like the U.S. government fear of Ali's association with the Nation Of Islam (it is mentioned, but it is never really developed). This happens while the film at the same time does too much recreating of public events from Ali's life. While the way those scenes, the interviews, matches and other public appearances, are handled closely approaches the real-life look, dynamics and charisma of the actual events it does merely display the side we know of Ali, the charismatic athlete. If we wanted to see him, we'd pop the excellent Rumble In The Jungle documentary into the old VCR again.

Throughout, however, everything stays very watchable thanks to Mann's stylistically smooth direction. The only problem I have is with the boxing scenes. They may be very well shot (the digital shots really put you into the heat of the fight, yes) but after the third fight, kind of get bored with them. Maybe it's my personal disinterest with the sport, but I found the final fight with Foreman particularly tedious (especially since you know the ending anyway). And what about the acting? Well, Will Smith and Jon Voight may have gotten Oscar nominations but they are no match for the stars of either Heat or The Insider. Much of the problem lies in the script, but essentially Smith's impression of Ali is good (and better than anything he's ever done) and still nothing beyond an impression at the same time (the real Ali has got MUCH more charisma), whilst Jon Voight's performance is more a showcase of great make-up than of great acting.

Ali is definitely not trying to be a standard sumtotal-of-the-events biography. And it doesn't go for cheap heartstring plucking either. Whilst the movie does deserve some respect for that and whilst Ali is usually quite watchable it lacks the insight into the man it needs. Maybe Mann was hoping for Smith to provide the insight via his portrayal. Or maybe he simply shied away from making a real biography about the man. Maybe Spike Lee would have made this better (It'd almost certainly be more controversial), because what Mann has left us with is an acceptable but by no means memorable film, deeply inferior to his two previous efforts.

Rating: 6/10

Black Hawk Down (2001)

Blood, sweat, bullets and RPG's: the protagonists of Black Hawk Down

[5/10 · 19 March 2002]

Black Hawk Down makes it intentions very clear when Eric Bana's character says `when that first bullet goes flying past your head, politics go right out the window'. It is not a study of the situation that lead to the Mogadishu incident portrayed in the film. It's not an in-depth analysis of human action in the midst of horrible conditions. What it is, in fact, is a frontline film, concerned with giving its audience a experience as close to real war as a film could ever hope to come. The last film to really try this was Saving Private Ryan, during its ragingly intense battle sequences. Well, Black Hawk Down pretty much stretches that into a full-length feature. The first 30-so minutes may be all exposition (starting off pretty badly, telling the whole back-story to the conflict in title cards), but after that it's all-out action.

The question it raises is the following: is Black Hawk Down what we'd expect from Jerry Bruckheimer, just another action flick, or did Scott do something more with it. The answer may not be the first OR the second, but rather a little bit of both. Black Hawk Down is not a polished actioner like Pearl Harbor. It doesn't feature too much (read: any) vomit-inducing American flagwaving. It is often spectacularly brutal although we're largely spared the pornographic violence of Ryan's harsher scenes. What Scott focuses on indeed is using all cinematic techniques in his reach to create a movie experience which is as intense and energetic as possible. It has the dynamics, the trickery and even the spectacle of a traditional action flick, but it doesn't have any real form of making us feel secure and happy about it. Black Hawk Down is so unforgiving in its pacing and in its bluntness in presenting a modern day armed conflict, there'll never be any doubt in your head, that war is a horrible, horrible thing.

But, wait, the Bruckheimer has not left the building. Black Hawk Down is good, but it's not great. I am willing to accept the absence of political debate over the situation, the absence of any critical inquiry into the U.S. policy and strategy deployed. After all, this isn't about such abstractions, it's about the man dodging the bullets. The way the Somalis are treated here is less easily accepted, though. They are mostly seen as an overwhelming, never-ending wave of hostiles, more reminiscent of James Cameron's Aliens than any human group of adversaries seen on film. Two scenes do present the Somalis as fathers or men trapped in their situations respectively, but it's not quite enough. Therefore, there's something to be said for the film mourning the 19 American fatalities more than the 1000+ Somali ones (considering the film's American perspective, one could argue this makes SOME sense). What I really can't accept though, and I'm looking at the film from a storytelling instead of a political standpoint from now on, is the characterisation. There's an argument to be made for this film not needing any really well-developed characters. They could have been archetypes for sure, but I would have liked to have seen them a little bit more defined. Basically I gathered Ewan McGregor's characters likes coffee and Eric Bana's character was really tough and that's it. It's a film that aimes to make you 'participate' in the experience it's offering and as such doesn't require a fully developed set of characters that explicitly experience everything for you, but a little bit more would have been nice. Now, the fact you're frequently watching generic figures dodging another hail of bullets somewhat distances you from the experience.

This is the script's (and film's) main failure and not necessarily the cast's, who all do a pretty reasonable job with the limited material. The mid-war scenes are well-performed and it's only when the actors are asked to deliver some speeches on why they would do these things, that they are unable to compensate for the screenwriter's inability in answering this question in any manner beyond Hollywood sugartopping or Pentagon propaganda (which, by the way, was very supportive in the process of making this film). It's a shame then, the film has to end on such a false note, with josh Hartnett talking into camera about how 'sometimes people just turn out to be [heroes]'.

All in all, this is not a smart film. It doesn't have the level of sophistication Three Kings brought to its Gulf War-subject matter. In fact it's little more than the cinematic retelling of the events. What could've been provocative piece about the Somalia situation or U.S. political influence throughout the world is Bruckheimerized into a film which is about nothing more than not getting blown up and not making sure your fellow man doesn't get blown up either. While that's not anywhere near revolutionary, it's a testament to Ridley Scott's great directing that it's nonetheless shocking enough to be a worthwhile addition to the war movie genre.

Rating: 6

A Beautiful Mind (2001)

Like all awardscoopers overrated.

[6/10 · 17 March 2002]

It's got the Golden Globes and it's got the Oscar nominations so it can't be that good, right? The tendency I have is, frankly, to be very sceptical about this kind of award-winning film because the Oscars tend to be little more than a popularity contest. And if you look at a list of the big Oscar winners of the last decade(s) you'll see it hardly ever is the year's best movie getting the Best Film award (see for example American Beauty beating the likes of Magnolia and The Insider while Fight Club wasn't even nominated). Usually the awards are given to some babyboom-appealing toothless film about triumph over adversity with massive studio backing. Well, when you read A Beautiful Mind's tagline, you pretty much get the idea it's purely aimed at forking in the Golden Baldies. So, is it as good as the award ceremonies would have you believe or it as bad as I thought it would be?

The answer is: it's neither. There's a lot wrong with this, A LOT. I haven't read the book either (although the film's, uhm, 'cinematic' portrayal of Nash has brought reading it to my interest - when I get around to it, I'll read it) so there might be more wrong with it. What I do know, is that a lot of Nash's unpleasant sides have been left out of the film. We get the paranoid schizophrenia but his personal relationships (apparantly, Nash divorced his wife, only to remarry her forty years later) are sometimes skipped, as well as his bisexuality (this could have been about a bisexual genuis schizophrenic? - I would have been SO there). The point is, although the filmmakers, for some (cowardly?) reason leave out his bisexuality but do decide to insert a car chase (of all things). A Beautiful Mind is a crossover movie somewhere halfway a thriller and halfway a drama. Had they made it a mere drama by enriching the relationships in the film (the one between Nash and his wife is far too one-dimensional) I might have bought it. Had they made it a full-blown conspiracy/ schizophrenia thriller, I might have bought it. I don't buy the mixture perse. The thriller elements seem thrown in for audience entertainment alone and the human drama, under the decidly lightweight direction of Ron Howard, doesn't hit home hard enough. Plus, anyone (especially anyone who's seen one particular movie mentioned in this comment) will see the big twist coming and the movie drags toward the end. And one question continues to bug me today: did Nash, a brilliant man, really give that schmaltzy speech at the Nobel prize ceremony (if you know, please email me)?

Russell Crowe's performance is one that's there to please the Oscar audience. He's a genuis schizophrenic and Crowe does almost everything a role like Nash's requires. Every little gesture is there, the accent is near-flawless and he even acts well while in heavy layers of make-up. It is a fairly self-conscious performance, on the other hand, aimed directly at nabbing the awards. Give Denzel the Oscar. No, the real deal is delivered by Jennifer Connely, possibly Hollywood's most underrated actress. Anyone having a role as cliched as hers and anyone having to deliver those horrible lines and inject some real human emotion into it, really does deserve an Oscar. Ed Harris is good, but has an even more thankless role. Paul Bettany is great fun and injects some much-needed spirit into a film about, frankly, a bloody rude man.

The strange thing is, even though it's a straight and simple story about a brilliant man coming to terms with his environment and, far more importantly, himself, I didn't dislike it at all. I can break it down like any other Oscar-friendly far-too-feelgooder, but in the end I did care for the film's version of John Nash and his wife. I thought the scientific concepts were adequately handled (it's not trying to be a history lesson, and not a maths course either) and you can't go wrong with a cinematographer like Roger Deakins.

All in all, the movie may be a mess of historical trivia on Nash's life and some narrative trickery more suited to a more surreal film, but it is entertaining. So, please, give the awards to some really good films and accept this film for what it is: average.

Rating: 6/10

Vanilla Sky (2001)

Shut your eyes

[4/10 · 1 February 2002]

***Possible spoilers

I specifically say POSSIBLE spoilers because, although there are a lot of twists in Vanilla Sky to give away, there are few the movie doesn't give away itself. Particularly the final twist is telegraphed way too early and obviously by showing a completely out-of-place tv-clip about cryogenics (the frequent hinting at David Aames' fear of heights is a pretty good example too). And since so much of the final third of the movie is spent on twisting and turning this is pretty unforgivable. It gets even worse when you have a reasonable ammount of twist movie viewing experiences under your belt. Several twists seem to have been lifted right out of Total Recall, Dark City and/ or The Matrix. Vanilla Sky furthermore shows little understanding of how twists work, throwing in more than a few for their own sake (because we like twists, right??). In Fight Club or The Sixth Sense they add levels of depth, in Lost Highway they mostly seem to support an all-pervading feel of dread and unease, here they are there because we like the aforementioned films. Cameron Crowe is not David Lynch and he should have known it.

As matter of fact, the twists began annoying me so much around 90 minutes into the film, they actually became unintendedly hilarious. What made it even funnier, for me, was the pretentiousness with which Cameron Crowe (a usually fine director, plus one of the two directors who got a decent performance out of Tom Cruise - in Jerry Maguire, the other is PT Anderson for Magnolia) presents it all. It has a fractured flashback structure, adds far too much weight to its ludricrous closing scenes (and many other ones, all scenes in which Aames wears his 'prosthetic' for example) and has the need to explicitate its themes from time to time. He also seems to be under the illusion that this is a surreal film. It, however, didn't convince me. The clunky exposition near the ending is too final for me. Crowe doesn't bring any duality into play. Had I walked out of it thinking maybe even the explanation about what happened to Aames was just a figment of his imagination (thus opening the movie to a host of new explanations again), I, being a twist fan too, would have liked it a lot better. Then there's his popculture fetishism, which, after the umpteenth misplaced song, kinda gets on your nerves (I WOULD have enjoyed some references to the movies this is stealing from, though). Also, there's surprisingly little humour (`Cryo-tainment.' is a gloriously bad example).

In fact, looking at this 'cover version' of the Spanish film Abre les Oyos you get the impression the entire film is nothing but a miscalculated vanity project for Tom Cruise for, while he may spend half the running time either wearing a mask or scar tissue make-up, this film is all about him and his performance. He does get to show off a little more range than usual, but his character is no distinctly unlikable you never care for him. His David Aames start off as an extremely cocky, spoilt little brat oozing fake charm and, after the accident, turns into an equally detestable self-pitying man, who seems to care more about the fact that he's lost his looks than his life. Cruise can do the cocky, spoilt little brat oozing fake charm part, but falls dramatically short during his later scenes. His disfigured Aames seems to be modelled after Jack Nicholson's brilliant over-acting turn from The Shining and his man-in-the-mask scenes with Kurt Russell are so grotesquely played it's embarrassing.

Yes, I know the film is basically a collection of pop-culture elements, but does that justify this film being this simple and empty? Yes, getting Times Square blocked off for shooting is impressive, too bad the scene isn't. So, are there any redeeming features? Well for me there were only a few: Cameron Diaz is very good and both Jason Lee and Russell are fine. And that's about it. Not that it's a technically inept film, but it never rises above the average in those respects. Another (fatal) point: the romance between Cruise and Cruz never generates any chemistry on-screen. Maybe it's the way Aames shamelessly steals Cruz' character from his best friend, or maybe it's because she falls for someone like him, either way there's something unlikable about their relationship. Thus, the movie fails to engage either as a head-scratching or a romantic thriller.

The whole idea of interweaving reality and dreams is (still) a very interesting one, but it's been done both before and better. Vanilla Sky is a movie that is pretentious but looks down upon its audience at the same time.

Rating: 4/10

Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)

Wonderfully schizofrenic blockbuster

[7/10 · 21 January 2002]

"Christophe Gans' masterpiece" proclaims the trailer, which "took Europe by storm". Well, I didn't notice that in The Netherlands and it wasn't too big in the U.K. either (it was a huge hit in France, but then again, it is a French film). And that masterpiece tag? Well, that's too much praise (although I have no doubt Gans will make one in the future) because The Brotherhood of the Wolf definitely isn't without its fair share of flaws. All the same went for a little film you may have seen about a year ago: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. That's also a foreign film combining epic period drama with some distincty populist elements (kung fu and fantasy). The Brotherhood of the Wolf introduces martial arts into 1766's France but adds another element; that of the monster movie. The result is a film which is not as groundbreakingly original as some might have you believe (Sleepy Hollow is also similar in many ways) but one that is so frequently inventive you'll probably be willing to overlook that.

Those of you familiar with Crying Freeman, Gans' attempt at live action Manga, will have some idea what to expect of The Brotherhood's direction. Although he omits filming every fight sequence in full slow-mo this time, there's still a lot there. His abundant but excellent use of fades (Monica Belluci fading into a snowy landscape is one for the books) and sudden changes in camera speed (a good example is the mudpool attack, featuring two very dramatic freeze-frames) give the film an almost lyrical feel. For the more exciting scenes, however, he ditches those stylistics in favour of some very strong dynamism through fast cuts (I would have preferred the longer-takes-and-wider-angles-approach for the fight scenes though). But it's not just empty visual flair, Gans creates a film which is thick with atmosphere. From the French woods to the Brotherhood's den, everything is alive. Set and costume design and cinematography are all top notch.

Beyond the direction, however, everything becomes a little hit-and-miss. The script succeeds in bringing together a variety of wildly diverse elements into a almost seamless whole. That said, it does lack a little momentum during the first hour where a lot of scenes are presented which seem to go nowhere. The scenes do pay off later (the film has clearly defined characters and relationships at that point, which makes the following mixture of spectacle and plot twists a lot more satisfying) but you wonder if it couldn't have been a little sharper. What also didn't work for me was having the story related to the audience by a supporting character. Much like in Titanic it brings up a host of plotholes (how could this character have known that?) and it simply doesn't play well. Thankfully, the wraparound tale doesn't last too long either. What it does have is an interesting second layer, that of (corrupted) religious conservatism reinforcing its influence on a changing society through brutal terror and backstabbing. What goes for the script goes for the acting as well. Vincent Cassel is, as always, great and it's fun seeing Mark Dacascos fighting, speaking French and acting remarkably well in one and the same movie. Simon LeBihan, on the other hand, is a little inexpressive and too much of a pretty boy to convince as the vindictive wannabe martial artist of the final reel.

Did I mention it was subtitled (yes, U.S. moviefans, SUBTITLED - ok, I'm generalising, don't flood my mailbox please)? The trailer handily cuts around such irrelevant material like dialogue masking the fact that EVERYONE SPEAKS FRENCH. So if this is making you a little itchy, by all means, stay away. Trust me, if you're happier watching bad dialogue in English (avoid the unavoidable dubbed version - didn't you see what happened to CTHD?) than good dialogue in French, this film is far, far too different for your tastes. For everyone else: The Brotherhood of the Wolf may be imperfect, but the mere fact that it combines an imaginative creature feature, French period cinema and an extending bone-sword/ whip makes it a highly recommendable and enjoyable film.

Rating: 7/10

Fight Club (1999)

A film with brains and the balls to use them

[10/10 · 14 January 2002]

**SPOILERS**I could obey the first two rules of Fight Club, but I'd be doing exactly what Fight Club tells me not to. I could go on for hours words about David Fincher's technical wizardry, throwing in everything from simple jumpcuts to a hugely original use of CGI, but that would be emphasizing the obvious. I could also compare it to its more Oscar-friendly babyboom counterpart, American Beauty, but I only have to point out that movie lacks both the balls and the brains of this one. Finally, I could write a spoiler-free review about Fight Club. But I'm not going to, because that wouldn't be doing the film justice.

It, however, is not as if this hasn't happened to this film before. At the time of release most American critics (and far too many European ones, too) completely misinterpreted the film as being excessively violent (peculiar because the violence is always integral to the story and its themes and, equally important, never glorified) and even fascist (which is as much the object of Fight Club's parody as is consumerism). Fight Club, much like the equally good Chuck Palahniuk novel it's based on, casts its subversive net far and wide. Yes, it's satire of consumerism ("things you own end up owning you'") is easily the most vocalized (Tyler Durden in-camera speech, anyone?) and since that's the voice of Tyler Durden, the Narrator's possibly subconsciously self-created saviour figure (I told you about the spoilers, right?), we should definitely be hearing it. It should however not distract us from the fact that the Fight Club/ Project Mayhem world the Narrator is drawn into is sneakily similar to his earlier yuppie materialist existence. For example, do the Space Monkeys get anything out of Project Mayhem except for the illusion of some kind of purpose in life?

There's deeper stuff too. There's an interesting streak of surrealism throughout the movie, not unfitting for a film viewed through the eyes of someone who is by most standards insane (in fact, almost the entire film is a flashback). Fantasy and reality flow over into eachother up until a point where it's really left to the viewer to decide what is real and what is not (or both, the flashback-humor quip for example). Is Tyler Durden merely a fantasy or does he simply become one in the Narrator's eyes? Do the Narrator and Marla live happily ever after (because the building they're in doesn't explode - onscreen)? You can read a lot into this film depending on what you want to read into it (fascism, it would seem, is one of them) and depending on how you interpret the events. On a related note, many people have argued the book's ending is more ambiguous than the film's (in the book, the Narrator ends up in a white place - Heaven or an asylum? - where people await Tyler Durden's second coming). I don't agree. The film ending seems an explosive version of a happy Hollywood wedding-type ending but considering the storytelling style it's obvious it only seems that way. Did the Narrator really kill himself and is this merely what he wants us to see - some final hallucination? Anyway, it's not as clearcut as it seems and therefore a cinematically perfectly acceptable substitute for the book ending. And in some ways, the film is also simply about existing and reaffirming that existence through (physical) experiences that test one's self. Even religion, friendship, love and the emasculination of modern society get thrown into the mix.

But ultimately that's all side-servings to central story, that of a man brought up on TV shows and microwave dinners and on the assumption that material possessions will make him happy. Also a man who has been kept from acts of subversion so much that they have gained a mythical quality. Who is so disconnected from his own humanity he can't find a way to approach Marla Singer, who is what he really wants. Does he create his own macho alter ego to exercise (exorcise?) both his contempt for society and love for Marla? Does he eventually find maturity and responsibility by denying this alter ego and sacrificing (or at least being prepared to do so) his own life because he understands its worth now? Maybe. Maybe not. In either case Fight Club is both a movie that'll you thinking for a long time to come and one that has an emotional depth that's lacking in most films this intelligent.

So I'm leaving out the quality of the movie experience almost entirely, eh? Well, yes. That's something you likely know already (or you read on for far too long). Still, two notes on that account: the acting is top-notch and the film's way funnier than my comment. So work your ass off, buy the DVD and discover that while you may be a consumer, at least you're one with good taste.

Rating: 10/10

Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Beauty. Truth. Freedom. Love. It's all there.

[9/10 · 29 September 2001]

It could have so easily gone wrong, this film. Musicals aren't made anymore for a reason. That reason is many people, like me, feel they're kind of silly. People don't dance to settle arguments, they don't break into singing just because they're happy and even when they do they're usually so drunk you can't understand a word they're 'singing'. And before you disagree, just think of that ill-conceived Titanic musical (for krissake). But that's not the only reason this could have gone very, very wrong. Having actors sing is about as good an idea as having singers act, especially considering Ewan McGregor's casting (anyone remember A Life Less Ordinary's sing-and-dance routine?). And then there's a completely unhinged madman director like Baz Luhrman. It could indeed have been awful. What it is however, is the most innovative, spectacular, gripping and beautiful film this year.

Luhrmann continues what he had already done in William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet, which is combining the commercial (using modern music and a surprisingly heavy dose of comedy) with the artistic (the heavily theatrical stylings and loaded emotional content). Moulin Rouge! (it really deserves the exclamation mark) is most definitely a pop-opera. Technically, this is the crossbreed between unhinged and brilliant. With CG-rollercoaster shots through Paris, amazing production design and about as much edits you can fit into a two-hour film without driving your audience fully insane this is a visual feast every second of its running time. Even topnotch stylists like Ridley Scott don't come close.

Sound however is not forgotten (it is a real musical, you know). Luhrmann uses many different types of music and has everything from Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend to Material Girl to Smells Like Teen Spirit to FatBoy Slim's loose interpretation of the cancan thrown into the first 15 minutes or so. Of course, they're all reworkings of the original songs, but they're both so recognisable and different I doubt any fans of the originals have a right to be insulted. With such a wide variety of music, the movie's bound to have both high- and lowlights, my personal favourite being a tango-like version of Roxanne. I don't really dislike a single song, although I could have done without one of the film's many love ballads by Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor. Not that's it's their fault, really. McGregor shows himself a talented singer and Kidman is truly spectacular. The same goes for their acting. Jim Broadbent is fine but I did think John Leguizamo could have been better. Special kudos go to Richard Roxburgh, who is absolutely hilarious as the movie's villainous Duke.

So, with so much madly OTT style it really can't be expected to have any substance, right? Wrong. Moulin Rouge! may be more of triumph of moviemaking than it is of screenwriting, it's definitely not as empty as certain critics would have you believe. It's basic premise is simple enough (it simply combines most great old plays about beauty, truth, freedom and above all love) but it's filled with emotions that seem cliches but are brought with such compelling honestly you can't help (or at least I couldn't, which, for someone who usually prefers cynicism above optimism and intelligence above emotion, is quite surprising) but be swept away be it. No, it won't exactly keep you talking about the relationship between art and real-life as portrayed so vividly on screen. In fact, I doubt it will keep you talking at all, but Moulin Rouge! is a film to experience, not to dissect.

In short, Moulin Rouge! is a one of those once-a-year type films, which re-establishes your faith in the belief that Hollywood money can be used to create something utterly unique and astoundingly beautiful. The kind of film you hope won't be insulted by the Academy (but you know probably will).

Rating: 9/10

Scream 2 (1997)

"Sequels suck!"

[5/10 · 29 September 2001]

Or so says one of the characters early on in Scream 2, which is followed by a short discussion about sequels that might just be better than the original. Is Scream 2 one of them? Definitely not. The first Scream film worked well because it played with the rules of the slasherflick (although it is far less original in this than you might think, as Wes Craven's own New Nightmare did pretty much the same thing) without subverting them and because it brought a much needed energy back into the genre. I don't think Scream is a true horror classic (I didn't think it was very scary), but it's still great fun. Scream 2 aimes for pretty much the same thing. It's another postmodern slasher where the characters know the rules of the genre and where the filmmakers play around with them.

Sometimes, it still works. The whole sequel-discussion will please anyone with a casual interest in film, the cameos by Heather Graham and Tori Spelling (as Neve Campbell's character in the movie-within-the-movie based on the events in Scream) are cleverly inserted into the film and there's even a hint the filmmakers are trying to confound the audience' expectations (one slashing is an example in particular). It's not as though Kevin Williamson's film-literate script is a complete waste of time. But apart from these clever flourishes, there's very little here. Sure, he throws in 'subtexts' like the media's obsession with violence and, more notably and bravely, the whole relationship between violence in media (and film in particular) and in real-life. But as it doesn't do a lot with its subtexts, so what you're left with is your usual barrage of killings and a whodunnit storyline. And a lot of it isn't nearly as sharp as Scream. The dialogue has its moments, but the character interplay is as shallow as possible and there's an awful scene where Neve Campbell has to dodge a real knife among fake ones in a stage play. It's the type of hugely theatrical scene that doesn't work at all in this type of film. Apart from that, the conclusion to the whole whodunnit isn't nearly as satisfying as Scream's.

What makes it worse is the rushed execution. Wes Craven is a gifted horror director and not a gifted stylist and Scream 2 brings out the worst in him. The entire film is shot in a dull, predictable fashion and at times it almost looks (cinematographically, anyway) random. Worse even is the handling of the typical horror film staples. The shocks are telegraphed early but don't work because of clumsy editing (the first 'shock' is a case in point). The gore level is very low (actually, apart from the sound effects there is nearly no real gore) and it doesn't have any atmosphere. Craven is talented, but here he's clearly rushed his work in order to release before the genre dies again.

And that's the whole film's problem, it feels too rushed. Which is also noticeable in the music, where they use part of the Broken Arrow soundtrack as Dewey's theme (or is this a VERY misguided popculture reference?). I really think with (a lot) more polishing Scream 2 could have a competent, enjoyable romp, but as is, it's only occasionally entertaining.

Rating: 5/10

The Green Mile (1999)

Bribery works with the Academy too, you know.

[5/10 · 23 September 2001]

Stephen King-based movies are, if anything, a mixed bag. His stories work very well when the screenwriter/ director focusses on internal tensions within the protagonist (see Stanley Kubricks The Shining, Rob Reiners Misery or Taylor Hackfords Dolores Claiborne) and they usually turn out less successfull when external horrors are 'examined'. Perhaps the best film (and certainly the most humane) based on Kings work is The Shawshank Redemption, at the time criminally ignored by both audiences and the Academy. Half a decade later, however, it's one of the most loved films of the nineties (check out the IMDb top 250; it's probably still in the top 5).

Which explains why Frank Darabont took the same direction again. The Green Mile is another prison-set film (on Death Row during the Depression, actually) based on Kings writing. And again Darabont draws your attention to the characters instead of aiming for cheap thrills. There are differences aplenty, however. Most significantly, The Green Mile has supernatural aspects Shawshank didn't have. Still, the similarities are so great (and the reasons behind casting America's favourite actor Tom Hanks are so transparant) it's hard not to consider The Green Mile as anything but an attempt to translate Shawshank's critical success to box office receipts (and Golden Baldies).

Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean it's terrible. And it really is not. The Green Mile is hardly a Shawshank Redemption either, though. It's far too Oscar-friendly for that. I though Shawshank was an honest, moving and cleverly written film. The Green Mile plays the emotions up to the max however. So much so that to me it just felt a little faked. It is highly manipulative and its characters are less well rounded than those in Shawshank. Best examples? The (gratuitously) horrific electrocution scene and the sadistic guard character (the Wild Bill character is a pretty good one, too). Extra Oscar points for an extremely long running time, an annoying wraparound time set in modern time (see also: Titanic, whoever thought these wraparound things work?) and a zillion shots of people crying.

It's also loaded with that so-called bleakness that works so well for the Academy. The world can be a horrible place (well duh...) in which death can be a form of release. Not wanting to be to depressing, it luckily shows the role of being humane to eachother. Yep, that's Oscar-material all right. Not too challenging or complicated, it reaffirms all which is traditionally believed in the U.S. (also of peculiar interest is the Academy's preoccupation with optimistic films related to death; see Titanic, Gladiator, American Beauty, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon even).

But I mentioned it's NOT a terrible film, right? Well, it isn't. The Green Mile is reasonably well (although very traditionally) directed and at times its heart-tugging does work. Also, the acting isn't that bad. Tom Hanks I'll never really like, he's just either too bland or too much Tom Hanks The Actor for me. But the supporting performers are, within the limitations of its writings, excellent. Michael Clarke Duncan (who gets to do most of the crying) is oddly convincing as giant, retarded angel and David Morse and James Cromwell are good. The outstanding member of the cast, however, is Michael Jeter as mouse-loving Cajun inmate Del. The cinematography is also highly atmospheric and the presentation of the supernatural aspect is surprisingly subtle (as are religious undertones).

Solid acting and effective use of old techniques make this a watchable film, but in the end it's far too hyperbolic in it's emotions and simply too bloody long. Not really bad but as good as it's IMDb rating would have you think? Not by a long shot.

Rating: 5/10

Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (2001)

Not a real movie, just eye-candy.

[5/10 · 17 August 2001]

OK, let's start off with a warning. If you don't like films where there is nothing (and I do mean absolutely, positively nothing) beyond the visual, leave this film alone. Don't go into this believing it is a proper film, because it is not. The story is a mess of sci-fi clichés and (very) dumbed down Eastern philosophy. The 'characters' are expensively rendered cardboard figures, complete with some of the worst voice-over work I've heard in years. And the creator of the game the film is loosely based on (which I never played, by the way), Hironobu Sakaguchi is stunningly inept as a director. It's sometimes hard to decide which are worse; the talky scenes or the action scenes.

So please don't assume you will see a real film. This film exists for one reason and one reason alone; as a showcase for its CGI. Final Fantasy is literally a 105-minute special effect. And for anyone still interested in seeing this, here's the big question: how good is the CGI? Or: Is it photorealistic? The second question is easiest to answer. It is not photorealistic. No matter if you're looking at an explosion or one of the main polygon-queen Aki Ross' 60.000 individually rendered hairs, you're never in any doubt that all of this is bits and bytes.

A realistic, living, breathing and acting human being, according to some the Holy Grail of CGI-creators (although the result would not be any more interesting than a normal human being visually), is still well beyond reach. Some characters look better than any previous attempt, mainly Aki and doctor Sid, and others don't look quite so good. The movement, however, never gets very realistic and especially the facial expressions seem far too thought through. These 'synthespians' acting ability is also limited, the best example of that being villain General Hein's constant frown (indicating he's evil). Apart from that, most voices don't work. The lip-synch isn't too good and I found most famous actors' voices to be very distracting (Steve Buscemi is a case in point).

The environments and non-human characters look spectacular and quite realistic, however. Which leaves this to be a very strange film. It is a traditional Hollywood blockbuster, but not live-action. It is animation, but not a cartoon. This mix can work. The Matrix employed a lot of animation techniques brilliantly. Telling good stories featuring only real beings in animated form has been done in anime often and successfully. Here, the elements that are picked from both worlds aren't always the best. For instance, since the entire film (and thus its cameras) are completely virtual, you would expect some great camerawork, right? Instead, we get predicable angles and moves.

Final Fantasy is creating a moderately fantastical world with a technique that is often applied to fantastical stories (even Toy Story and so forth are fantastical) and yet perfects that technique to a level where it's almost realistic visually. Had it been completely realistic, the film, on the other hand, would ironically have been less interesting. This is not really as groundbreaking as it would like to be, but especially since the high-cost-low-return factor practically guarantees this type of film will have little following, it a cinematic oddity, for sure. A unique experiment as well. A great movie, however, it is not.

Rating: 5/10

American Psycho (2000)

Mischief. Mayhem. Business Cards.

[8/10 · 13 August 2001]

Every so often there is a film which is denied critical acclaim, simply because people keep comparing it to some superior flick. Take ExistenZ compared to The Matrix, for example. The Thing compared to Alien. Or The Game compared to Se7en. It's no accident I'm mentioning David Fincher's movies because I'm tempted to make one of those comparisons, this time with American Psycho and Fincher's Fight Club. And indeed, it's hard to gloss over the similarities, especially when you like Fight Club as much as I do. Both films parody consumerism, materialism and yuppies. Both films feature characters who engage in violent acts (although the reasons for this behaviour are far clearer in Fight Club). Also, the structure of both films share elements (third acts veering off in an alternate direction, etc.) and certain scenes in American Psycho recall distinct scenes in Fight Club (and A Clockwork Orange, for that matter).

Compare both films and American Psycho loses out. There are numerous reasons. Most notably, American Psycho is relatively plot-free. We simply get a series of scenes of satire and ultraviolence, and some very, very basic storylines involving a murder investigation and Patrick Bateman's further descent into insanity. In Fight Club, the plot was one of its strongest points. Furthermore, American Psycho is a very cold film. It's main character is unlikable to the extreme so the coldness is actually a good idea in one way, but of course, it doesn't make for an emotionally absorbing experience (you could argue that this is as cerebral as Kubrick's famous satire). Fight Club did have a likable main character. It's determined focus on Bateman also makes it impossible for other characters (the women in particular) to make a lasting impression. Who can forget Marla Singer, on the other hand? Finally, American Psycho is so definitely eighties, it is at least as much a satire of the era as it is of its themes. In Fight Club, the themes are extended into today, and, for me, that makes it a more relevant film.

But these points merely prove Fight Club is better, not that American Psycho is bad. Not at all, in fact. American Psycho wisely keeps it cool and detached and as a satire works tremendously well. There are a lot of stand-out scenes. The one that pops to mind right now is an incredibly funny sequence in which a couple of perfectly interchangable yuppies show off their new business cards. The scene then shows how Bateman becomes genuinely jealous of his fellow yuppies' better looking cards. These smart and very funny scenes bring across the absolute focus on one's own exterior. It also illustrates the perfect interchangability of its characters. In fact, mixing up people and not caring to know their names is part of the whole film's joke.

Christian Bale is fantastic as narcissistic, egocentric and murderous Patrick Bateman and seems to get every scene just right. Indeed, his performance is probably what makes this film work. He plays Bateman not like a real person but like some kind of empty shell (the scene is which he recites the world's greatest plights is a great example), and also makes him perfectly aware and uncaring of his inner vacuousness. He is also as scary as any other movie psycho has ever been. His motivations are kept in the relative dark and the viewer is left to find those. To me, his behaviour is just another extension of his total uncaring, his complete inability to appreciate anything beyond the physical.

The scariest thing about it? That everytime Bateman seems to be confronting his environment with his and its emptiness, he is met by unattentiveness or laughter. That's the point; Bateman's world is arguably as insane as he is. Now, just keep telling yourself, I am NOT a product of the eighties.

Rating: 8/10

Jurassic Park III (2001)

The summer of 2001 continues....

[4/10 · 3 August 2001]

I first saw Jurassic Park at the local cinema when I was 12 years old. Needless to say, I loved it at the time. And even when I saw it again recently it worked for me. Jurassic Park may not be up there with Raiders of the Lost Ark or Aliens, it's still reasonably solid entertainment. I thought The Lost World was a complete dud. One of the reasons I wasn't really that interested in a third instalment of the series. When Spielberg hired Joe Johnston (I hated Jumanji) to fill the director's chair my interest almost much died completely. Almost, because I did decide to go see it.

And for the umpteenth time this summer I was disappointed. The first twenty minutes are character exposition (read: cardboard exposition) scenes. A lot has been made of the film's short running time. The strange thing is, it doesn't feel that short. Those first scenes are so badly written (I doubt if there's a single worthwhile line of dialogue throughout, actually) you'll think you've been sitting in the theatre for an entire hour. After that I thought the movie would pick up, but after five good minutes the pace dropped again and it becomes one of those tedious 'wait-for-the-action' type films. Worst of all is what the screenwriters have chosen to fill the action gaps with: dull character interplay, rather unbelievable (and completely unnecessary) revelations about the raptors and even the introduction of the obligatory kid (a device which has been over- and misused after Aliens). On top of that there doesn't seem to be any effort on Johnston's part to keep the tension sustained between attacks.

Now, you could just chalk a lot of the un-amazingness up to over-exposure to CG dinosaurs, with the BBC's Walking With Dinosaurs and Disney's Dinosaur (a project which really should have been made silent and by Paul Verhoeven) having been released since The Lost World. But that's not it. The set-pieces here play more like traditional action sequences without requiring the audience to go 'ooh' and 'aah' at the latest in virtual vermin (although there still are a couple of those shots slotted in). So lack of wonder isn't the problem. What is? Try rushed editing, shocks that don't shock and no suspense whatsoever. I can take bad dialogue, a downright stupid storyline and cardboard characters in a summer blockbuster, but I do expect the set-pieces to be either ultracool or nerve-wrecking. Here only two, maybe three scenes approach some form of excitement.

And it's with two of these (a crash/ Spinosaurus attack and a dinosaur fight) that the movie, 20 minutes in, seems to be breaking stride. If only Joe Johnston managed to keep it up for the rest of the time. Any other points left to discus? Well, the ending sucks, I hate the way the climactic attack is intercut, you'll see who the victims and survivors are within seconds, the humour mostly misses the mark and at times the CG dinosaurs are below par. Then there's the acting; seldom was a cast this uncharismatic. You can actually read the dollar signs in Sam Neill's and William H. Macy's eyes (otherwise fine actors) and Tea Leoni is so terrible you'll want her to be eaten as soon as possible.

In short: An extremely formulaic, very badly written sequel. In fact, the short running time is the only thing that makes it reasonable watchable. Now THAT'S praise!

Rating: 4/10

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (2001)

So bad it's actually pretty good.

[5/10 · 25 July 2001]

I went in expecting very little from this movie. Almost nothing in fact, partly because I don't care for videogame movies in the first place (videogames are essentially about interactivity, that's why they, in my opinion, don't translate to the silver screen), partly because I, even in my gaming days, never played a Tomb Raider game and partly because I'm not too big an Angelina Jolie-fan. I mean, what has she really done, besides knives and Billy Bob Thornton? Gia I didn't like, Girl Interrupted I never saw and the less said about Gone in 60 Seconds, the better. Well, after seeing this, I must say, most of my expectations were met.

Worst of all is the script, which seems satisfied by just showing iconic Lara Croft in various positions. It's basically four set-pieces tied together in some way that not even the most ardent fan can call a story. Tick off your cliches from two handed gunfiring (more reminiscent of The Matrix than John Woo's work, by the way), the so-called comedy side-kicks, the one-dimensional villains and so much more. And the plot; please don't even get me started. Then there's the dialogue. Most of the one-liners completely missed target and especially everything Lord Croft (Jon Voight; poor, poor man) said could have been bettered by a monkey. Seriously. Of course Lara Croft is one of the nineties' definitive popculture icons, but does that justify making such a mess of the script? I don't think so. Then there's the endless list of cinematic errors. Best example: the final fight scene, once again filmed in short takes and predictable angles. Post-The Matrix, this is a poor excuse for movie action.

Angelina Jolie does very little acting here. She does do a lot of winking, shooting, jumping, wearing cool clothes and showering, though. So if that's your bag (and to be honest, it is my bag), it does work very well for a time. It's just that, Jolie is more of a icon-made-flesh than an actual character.

Indeed, judged as a real movie, this is every bit as bad as The Mummy Returns and Pearl Harbor. But I did enjoy it a lot more. Generally, I don't buy the idea of movies so bad they're actually rather good, but in this case it's my only explanation. I didn't laugh once when I was supposed to, no, but I did laugh (Jon Voight: great, great man). I dug the adrenalin fuelled soundtrack, although that (and bad editing) made the set-pieces uninvolving, stand-alone music videos. And discovering plot holes as huge as Angkor Wat while watching proves genuinely amusing. Still, this would be nothing if not for the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Stone Monkeys? Time travelling? Lara and villain running up that piramid? And the kid that pops up from time to time? What is this ?!!???!

The answer I can give is: Hilarious. Lara Croft: Tomb Raider is not by any means a good film and it didn't even change my opinion on videogame flicks or Angelina Jolie slightly. If, on the other hand, think preposterousness is an entertainment form on its own, by all means see it and see it now.

Rating: 5/10

Pearl Harbor (2001)

I could at least laugh at Armageddon...

[1/10 · 18 July 2001]

One question continuously plagued me while watching Pearl Harbor (hey, you have to have something to think of when 90 minutes of storyline are painfully stretched into a 180-minute film). That question is: Do Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay genuinely feel they're making a grand, majestic and epic take on a tragic disaster? Everything in the film seems to lead on that they do; the grand scale battle scenes, the slo-mo shots of dying and drowning soldiers, the inflated, empty romance and the running time (so....epic moviemaking means making long films, I guess). If this is to be taken seriously, it's a failure far greater than any Bruckbuster before.

It already starts with its basic premise. Someone said 'Pearl Harbor' , someone thought Titanic and that's it. A disaster rapped inside a 'romance'. Now, I'm not the world's greatest Titanic-fan. But the way the romance and disaster elements are combined here and the banality of the romance itself make the uber-corny Titanic seem like Citizen Kane. The romance in Titanic may have been more than a little cliched, but at least it served a purpose: it gave you characters to follow during the intensity of the sinking of the ship. It Pearl Harbor it does not serve any purpose. It seems the people behind it simply thought in modern day a disaster needed a romance. So out goes most of the interesting historical backround on the attack (which saves the movie from most critique on historical accuracy), the remaining bits reduced to some flashy edited 10-second scenes (in which good actors like Dan Akroyd and Colm Feore are criminally underused). Besides the trite romance it's replaced by some of the most redundant, crappy dia- and monologue ever commited to screen. Oh yeah, and there's the Ben Affleck/ Top Gun angle. Also, for no apparent reason whatsoever, Cuba Gooding Jr.'s character is briefly introduced and gets to pick up a medal. His is an interesting (and true) story, but just why was it included in this film?

Arguably worse than any of its script problems is the battle itself. 40 minutes of completely uninvolving carnage and visual effects. Those effects sure are good, but the sequence in itself neither works as an action sequence, nor as a dramatic representation of the actual events. Note to Michael Bay: lots of explosions (far too many, by the way) do NOT make an action scene. There used to be something like tension because the viewer is taken into the action through characters he or she cares for. Here we get some bangs, a ship sinking and some plane stuff. All cut together is such a way that I doubt anybody knew exactly what was going on, let alone care. The whole scene feels like a 40-minute montage of something like 'America's Greatest Explosions'. Of course, even if it were a satisfying action scene, it would still be terribly patronizing to the real people involved in the attack (as it would reduce their ordeal to mere entertainment). But it would be less patronizing than it is now, because you could have discarded it as mere entertainment. With countless shots of the drowning and dying Bay is clearly establishing what he's going for is something beyond that. He's going for some Saving Private Ryan-style depiction of the horrors of war. But then, he cuts back to the next money shot, thus rendering the foregoing useless. In short; the battle is an incredibly, extraordinary mess.

Isn't there anything good about Pearl Harbor then? Well, apart from those bit-parts (what is Tom Sizemore doing here, anyway?) and some impressive effects, no. Ben Affleck seems bent on replacing Keanu Reeves as rent-a-plank, Josh Hartnett does his best Leonardo DiCaprio impression and Kate Beckinsale looks great (and that's all she does). Furthermore, there's the soft-focus hospital scene (Q: Why not show the real deal? - A: PG-13 rating), the Doolittle raid (Q: It's a Pearl Harbor movie, right? - A: Yes, but the Americans need to win), the utterly senseless prologue, the terrible Hans Zimmer soundtrack and so much more, but you catch my drift.

Pearl Harbour wants to be Titanic. It wants to reduce a tragic disaster to an entertainment blockbuster, but show the horrors at the same time. An already questionable starting point, but even worse is it's total failure at being entertaining at any point. Insulting rubbish.

1/10

What Lies Beneath (2000)

Go see Hitchcock's Psycho and The Sixth Sense.

[4/10 · 15 July 2001]

It's common knowledge Robert Zemeckis shot this while Castaway star Tom Hanks prepared for the more 'meaty' part of his role in that film. So, it's kind of a time filler and it often shows. What Lies Beneath may have grossed a mint, but especially for someone like Zemeckis it is a relatively small film. No Vietnam wars or meetings with presidents, no time-traveling and no contact with aliens, just a haunted house. And I'm not talking a The Haunting-style castle here. Just a house. Of course, smaller doesn't necessarily mean less good (not that I'm a fan of Zemeckis' past works, though, because to me, he's still a Spielberg protege and not much of a distinctive director).

What Lies Beneath is a halfway house between paranormal thriller and pure Hitchcock. The ghostly apparitions and the supernatural angle make up for the first element and the subplot with the neighbours and the way it's directed make up for the second. Also, the bathtub which plays a central role recalls Psycho, as does the basic structure of the script. For me, however, the movie falls short on both levels. On the Hitchcock level, mainly because the script is godawfully predictable (even without seeing what must be the most spoiler-ish trailer I've ever seen) and because no matter how hard I tried, there just didn't seem te be any deeper psychological meaning (or even logic) to it. Compared to Hitch's works, this is a high-gloss piece of emptiness. As a paranormal thriller it fails, because it really isn't about anything paranormal, it's just uses it as an audience-luring angle and a plot device. That makes What Lies Beneath feel like Strange Days. Yes, I know, they're very different films, but both films use interesting ideas (WLB: ghosts, Strange Days: recorded memories, cyberpunk) and reduce them to a plot device in a tired an old way. What Lies Beneath never delves into what ghosts are (ok, pretty obvious) or, more importantly, why they are. If you want to see a real ghost film, go rent The Sixth Sense. The second reason it doesn't work is it's use of shock tactics. I did jump twice, but in a movie with about fifteen jump moments, that's a lousy batting average. They are all build-up and no pay-off.

Well, I shouldn't be all that negative, because What Lies Beneath is not all that uncomfortable viewing. The simple 'ghostly' scenes, like the one in which a door opens twice, miraculously, work very well. Also, the film's shot in a cold way, making for an often chilling film. Furthermore, the quality production values and the continuing promise of some form of surprise make it highly watchable. In fact the whole film feels like its jump moments. The build-up is good and will keep you interested but don't be surprised if the jump never follows. Of course I'm referring to the final act. Up until the point the proverbial penny drops it's solid entertainment. The problem is, you're waiting for a breathtaking, surprising or satisfying ending and you get nothing like that.

Finally there's the acting, which boils down to the performances of it's two leads, Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer. Pfeiffer is the actual lead and pulls it off well enough. Most of the time, she is very convincing as the woman questioning her sanity as much as her surroundings. Harrison Ford, trying a supporting role this time (despite his being first billed), seems totally miscast.

In short: Apparently for Zemeckis, smaller DOES mean less good. What Lies Beneath is not beyond redemption (it's still a LOT better than The Haunting), it still comes across as vacuous, predictable and generally unsatisfying. People stopped makes this kind of film a long time ago for a reason.

Rating: 4/10

The Insider (1999)

More than an interesting take on interesting events.

[8/10 · 14 July 2001]

The Insider is a film in which people talk. A lot. They talk over dinner, they talk in cars and more often than not they talk on the phone. And yet it never bored me for a second. The main reasons: an intelligent, grown-up screenplay that never gives in to cheap entertainment, Michael Mann's spectacularly sweeping yet semi-documentarylike direction and, of course, the great performances.

Michael Mann and Eric Roth based this tale of the modern day David-versus-Goliath battle between whistleblower Jeffrey Wigand and faceless sigarette juggernaut Brown & Williamson (and journalistic integrity) on a Vanity fair article. It has led to a powerful script, not only succeeding in showing the issues it deals with, both also (or perhaps most of all) succeeding in telling the emotionally captivating story of Wigand himself. The film's certainly aided by Russell Crowes masterful performance, but the writing itself deserves attention for being emotionally gripping without ever being sentimental and for keeping the drama real (although it's basic story is fictionalised, of course). However, the only problem I have with this film also lies within the script. About 100 minutes into the film shifts its perspective from Wigand to Lowell Bergman, the producer on 60 Minutes, who's trying to get Wigand's testimony to the screens. A lot of people have already pointed this out as The Insider's main flaw, and I'd have to agree. Wigand is the tragic figure of the story, not Bergman, Wigand is making all the sacrifices, he's having his life ruined for telling the truth, not Bergman. Wigand's ordeal is far more captivating than Bergman's and therefore I would have preferred it if the film had continued focussing on Wigand. The fact that Crowe is absolutely brilliant and Pacino merely very good, doesn't help either.

As for directing, I think Mann is becoming better and better. I never really liked his older films. I remember seeing The Keep and being...well, baffled. I remember seeing Manhunter and although I enjoyed it, something didn't work for me. It always felt like style over content. With Heat however, Mann won me over. And with the Insider he proves he is still evolving as a director. The Insider looks great like any other of his films, but much like in Heat, style never overshadows content. It's always there to enhance the mood of a scene. The same goes for his genius use of a genius soundtrack (by Pieter Bourke and Lisa Gerrard). Still, the most amazing thing is the Mann's masking of the fact that this film is all talk.

Finally, there's the acting. I said it twice, and will say it again. Crowe is perfect as Wigand. He brings across every emotion not so much through words, but through facial expressions and body language. And he never does it in a way that is noticable as being 'acted'. Also, Crowe looks the role, having put on more than a few extra pounds. Watch this in conjunction with, say, L.A. Confidential, or Gladiator and you'll see Crowe is a total actor, a chameleon almost. And although he got a deserved Oscar for Gladiator, his performance here is more finely tuned. Pacino, on the other hand, is very good, but he's not exactly doing anything new. He's convincing but in certain scenes comes close to the overacting more suitable for The Devil's Advocate. The supporting actors are all good or better.

In short: Until the perspective shifts an emotionally powerful, highly intelligent, brilliantly acted and directed film, after the shift the 'emotionally powerful' is confined to the few scenes Crowe has left and the 'brilliantly acted' makes way for simply 'very well acted'. Still, I love the first part so much (and like the second part enough) that I can't rate this any lower than 9/10.

Kafka (1991)

Kafka trapped in his own world.

[7/10 · 13 July 2001]

Especially now, as Steven Soderbergh is still riding high on the box-office success and critical acclaim of his Erin Brockovich and Traffic, it is interesting to take a look at his older movies. One of them being Kafka, the story of surrealist writer Franz Kafka seemingly put in one of his one twisted tales. Now, first of all, despite Kafka himself being the lead and despite some real life events Kafka experienced woven into the story, this is not your basic biopic. Of course, there's stuff on Kafka's relationship with his father, his illness and his telling Bisselbeck to destroy his works after his death. There are even verbal references to his works (there's a recurring joke about Kafka's Die Verwandlung, where a man finds himself waking up as an insect). But this is not the focus of the story. We learn about Kafka and his works through the world in which he becomes embroiled. This world is built from elements out of Kafka's books, the most prominent of those being the everpresent threat of totalitarian authorities, the paranoia and constant references to 'the castle'. There's probably a lot more like this which I failed to notice, as I'm not the most avid Kafka fan.

It's an interesting concept, mixing fact and fiction to create a relatively coherent story, which is certainly more interesting than a by-the-numbers retelling of Kafka's life. That said, I would imagine that for someone totally unaquainted with Kafka this would be a mystifying and mystifyingly stylised work . Using black-and-white and colour cinematography in one film, to me, always feels very stylised (loved the way it was used in Schindler's List, though), and it felt extremely stylised in this one. On the other hand, the black-and-white cinematography does bring across the peculiar atmosphere of the literary work it's based on, and the switch provides an interesting metaphor (I think the colour scenes represent finding truth). O yeah, and it's just plain beautiful to look at. Steven Soderbergh's films are always stylised, but in such a way that it marries the content, which is probably the single most important thing I appreciate him for.

Another thing he's often appreciated for is his use of actors (Julia Roberts and Benicio Del Toro, anyone?). Unfortunately, it doesn't really work out here, though. All characters apart from Kafka himself have hardly any depth and Jeremy Irons' Kafka is well but also coldly portrayed. Again, keeping in line with Kafka's work (and perhaps reality), sure, but his performance and the extremely stylized approach can make this too cold and therefore sometimes uninvolving a movie.

In short: a great concept, a good script and a style which marries it are let down by some cold acting. Fascinating, but at times curiously uninvolving.

Rating: 7/10