Sunday, September 09, 2007 Rant Archive
I must admit I am not familiar with aspiring auteur Michael Davis’ work, but I might have to give the guy a chance now. His latest rages within its titular genre like lightning in a bottle. SHOOT ‘EM UP bristles with adolescent fury and bravado, encouraged by a flasher in the park’s sense of shame. See, Davis is distractingly unapologetic about the license he takes with plot in his enthusiastic charge towards ramping up the action as much as possible. Story is generally regarded as something squeezed in as gunmen reload and significant dialogue is often hobbled by corny one-liners a la 007 canon. But I have to argue that the ends justify the means. His indulgent script is matched by decadent filmmaking, the product of which is cinematic comfort food for action fans – as any shoot ‘em up should be.
The film opens with Clive Owen, known only as Mr. Smith, sitting alone on a bench beneath a streetlight. A very pregnant woman runs past him, fleeing some armed thugs. Smith follows her pursuers and delivers the child amid a downpour of bullet casings. He manages to escape the barrage with the baby boy, but the new mother unfortunately catches one between the eyes. Paul Giamatti plays Hertz, right-hand man to Hammerson (Steven McHattie) and a man dead-set on killing the child. Hammerson is the head of a weapons manufacturer and he keeps his army of employees well-equipped. Smith enlists the help of hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold Donna (Monica Bellucci) on his quest to save the newborn and figure out why Hammerson wants Baby Oliver dead. Sometimes Davis thinks he’s a little cleverer than he actually is, but he does well enough moving things along between the action sequences, which are the rightful centerpieces to the picture.
What good is speeding up the game and having a week’s worth of competitions in one episode if you spend the next episode rehashing all the action?
Seriously, I was ready to chuck the remote through the set after twenty minutes of reliving “Eric’s biggest bonehead moves” but then something changed. I can’t explain it, or the specific moment but something renewed my passions, my complete loathing of all things Donato. And on the distant horizon, a lone figure finally shook off the debris of this loathsome summer to stand between the Donatos and the final prize.
Zach.
I didn’t see it coming and suddenly I have interest in watching the next episode, at least. Zach won the HOH and broke from the Donatos. He didn’t exactly break from them as say he has to look out for himself. They did not take it well. What could you expect? And who knew that Zach, the guy who has the expression of someone in a wind tunnel, would finally figure out that he can’t beat Daniele and needed to get her out.
Its GLADIATOR vs AMERICAN PSYCHO!
Is it possible to refrain from saying “The Western is Back!” or “Western Revival” or “Rebirth of the Western” or, shudderingly enough, “the near-extinct genre has returned!” every single time a cowboy movie is released? They never went away. True, offerings are now few and far between, but that’s because they’re not as easy to crank out as a teen gross-out semi-porn. Between coordinating the logistics of a desert shoot (“a person needs to drink HOW much water every day?!”) and building plank-board towns during raging thunderstorms, you’ve got massive costuming concerns, which pistols are live / which ones are loaded with blanks and…have you every actually tried to ride a horse?!
Also, PLEASE stop claiming the genre’s been subverted by non-Americans. That’s never been the case. Some of the most memorable and enduring examples of excellent oaters were provided by Japan (“YOJIMBO”), Australia (“THE PROPOSITION”) and Italy (Spaghetti, anyone?).
The plot to 3:10 TO YUMA (like every great western) is simple. Downtrodden and disrespected rancher (Bale) agrees to join a posse to help escort bad bad bad guy (Crowe) to the 3:10 to Yuma for $200 desperately needed bucks. Not so much a plot as an impetus, yeah? But it’s the grit between the lines they can’t floss out that makes this film – maybe not a classic - but definitely an eminently watchable shoot ‘em up.
I knew nothing about this movie when I sat down in the near-empty theater today. I saw no ads, no advance press, nothing. That was a plus. Also, we saw a preview for the movie GOOD LUCK CHUCK starring Dane Cook. That was a plus as well. A documentary on land mine victims would look like a laugh riot compared to a Dane Cook vehicle.
So this put me in the mood to actually enjoy THE BROTHERS SOLOMON. Sure, plenty of this movie is rehashing DUMB AND DUMBER, but at least it steals from a funny source. Will Forte and Will Arnett play brothers Dean and John Solomon respectively. Raised in both the Arctic and Antarctica by their father (a comatose Lee Majors…literally, his character is in a coma for the entire movie), they are home schooled PHDs and complete morons. When they get the call that their father is sick, they rush to hospital to find him unconscious. Of course they stopped at the video store on the way over to dispute a late charge on a rental of ULEE’S GOLD, but they got there as soon as they could. The doctor informs them that dad’s last wish was to see a grandchild. They bring dad home and set out to get him a grandchild.
After failing at the dating scene and adoption, they place an ad on craigslist to find a woman who will have their baby. Along comes Janine (Kristen Wiig) with her on-again, off-again foul mouthed boyfriend James (Chi McBride). They are saddened to learn she agrees to artificial insemination and won’t let them “Blanket her ovarian walls with [their] sperm.”