One hardly knows whether Lucky Number Slevin had any potential as an original concept or not, but it certainly made itself appear as though it did. Advertising for the movie makes it look like a fast-moving, light-hearted action romp. In reality it moves far more slowly than necessary, and is full of a dark moroseness that feels jarringly out of place. The film tries desperately to be all style and flare, fails miserably, and has left itself nothing to fall back on. Slevin is almost wholly devoid of originality of any kind.

Slevin is the first motion picture screenplay by Smilovic, and it shows in a variety of ways. He seems to have thrown all of his best ideas at it in the hopes that one of them might stick. The movie’s characters are stereotypes with names like “The Rabbi.” (“Why do they call him the Rabbi?” “Because he’s a rabbi.”) By the second gratuitous repetition of the already onerous witticism about the origin of The Rabbi’s name, the dialogue in general was beginning to feel a great deal less snappy. The best lines (and, in fact, the best performance) were all delivered by a relatively minor character (played by Lucy Liu) whose presence is entirely incidental to everything else in the story. The vast majority of what remains (despite the big-name talent Slevin brings to bear) is hokey and jejune.

The situation is ludicrous and contrived. The Rabbi has shot the only son of rival gangster “The Boss.” The Boss wants Slevin to kill The Rabbi’s son so that no one will believe he was involved (he doesn’t want a war). This, of course, comes after a whole lot of other completely disconnected events have flitted by. The plot is a smorgasbord of elements ripped wholesale from a variety of crime thrillers. Of course, they are all tied loosely together in the end, but by the time that happens, do we really still care?

The movie becomes tedious immediately when it reveals at the outset that something is going on beneath the surface that we don’t know about. We know this will eventually be revealed, presumably with the intent of taking us by surprise. At this point it becomes a matter of sitting back and waiting for the arrival of whatever moment the movie has chosen to make its revelation. When the big twist (if you can call it that) finally arrives, it is not so much “revealed” or “unveiled” as painstakingly pieced together in front of us. The average audience member will already have connected most of the story’s dots, but the seemingly interminable denoument went back to the very beginning and slowly redrew the entire picture from scratch. It was, quite simply, insulting.

Perhaps the most distressing thing of all, though, was the outrageously high body count. Virtually every character with a speaking role has been knocked off by the end (several of them multiple times, thanks to flashbacks). None of these deaths have any depth or meaning, even when they should. They simply seem to take place in order to fill some sort of arbitrary quota. For instance, when The Boss informs Slevin (with some emotion) that his son has been killed, presumably within the past few days, Slevin responds with, “Bummer” and we move on. Of course everything makes sense by the end (sort of), but amidst all of the overwrought cliche and juvenile excess Lucky Number Slevin simply never gave us a reason to care.

• Co-reviewed with Randy

Posted in Reviews

Note: This review was written as though I were seeing the movie and commenting on it on the day it opened in 1986. 

In the 23rd century, a mysterious alien probe seeking to re-establish contact with humpback whales on Earth threatens to destroy the planet because the species is extinct. In response, Captain James T. Kirk and his crew travel back in time to San Francisco in the late 20th century to find and retrieve a pair of whales, and encounter an alien world of pizza, punk rockers, and pickup trucks that is as foreign to them as anything that they have encountered in the remote corners of outer space.

After 20 years of visiting the world of Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise, first in the live-action and animated television series that many of us watched as children, and later in the three major motion pictures released in more recent years, it’s about time they came to visit ours. It is strange that one of the most far-fetched and frivolous plots of a “Star Trek” movie yet should prove to be one of its most successful endeavours, but that is indeed the case with the latest installment. After tying up a few of the loose ends from the finale of “The Search for Spock,” “The Voyage Home” gets straight down to the serious business of having fun with its characters.

The special effects continue to improve with each successive film, and “Star Trek IV” is no exception. It is amazing to see the vast improvements science fiction movies have made in this area just in the past decade. Movies like this one showcase spectacular visuals which are rapidly reaching a peak of realism, making the experience of visiting fantastic situations and locations far more absorbing to the modern viewer. Science fiction fans have long been adept at suspending their disbelief around mediocre special effects in order to appreciate an original concept, but “The Voyage Home” proves that, before long, they will no longer have to.

Nevertheless, “Star Trek” is not really about special effects. Rather it is the characters that are this franchise’s greatest strength, and this movie does well in finding new surroundings for them to interact with, much to the entertainment of the audience. We find that Kirk, Spock, Bones, Scotty and the rest respond to our own 1986 in much the same way that we might respond to their time if we were to actually visit: with curiosity, confusion, and wonder. The result is a pleasant and absorbing blend of drama and humor. Our heroes from the 23rd century scoff at the “primitive” computers and medical technology of our world, but have difficulty grasping the concept of an exact-change bus. The result is two hours of highly entertaining escapism.

There is a deeper significance to “The Voyage Home,” though, and the rest of the “Star Trek” franchise in general. The movie begins with a touching tribute to the seven astronauts who lost their lives in the explosion of the “Challenger” early this year. Continuing missions into outer space can exact a terrible cost, as our nation discovered then. But as we continue to “boldly go” beyond the confines of our own atmosphere, who knows what we way ultimately accomplish? Regular manned missions to the planet Mars by the year 2000? Establish a colony on the moon within 20 or 30 years?

Whatever it is, “Star Trek” reminds us of the startling discoveries and possibilities that await just over the next horizon. And if the success and quality of this latest installment from the “Star Trek” universe is any indication, the franchise will be providing us with great movies about the ongoing adventures of the Enterprise crew indefinitely as we continue to take our own hesitant steps out into the final frontier.

Posted in Reviews

Sometime in the not-so-distant future, terrorism and the sudden onslaught of a deadly virus that kills millions indiscriminately inspires widespread panic. This atmosphere of fear allows a totalitarian government to assume control of Great Britain. Trading virtually all of their freedoms away for the promise of a little security, the citizens of Britain are brutally oppressed by the fundamentalist government of Adam Sutler (John Hurt). The lone opponent of Sutler and his cronies is a caped figure sporting a Guy Fawkes mask and calling himself “V.”

It is difficult to know precisely how to approach a discussion of V for Vendetta. On the one hand it is certainly an entertaining film, featuring all of the elements one might expect from a movie based on a graphic novel and written by the Wachowski brothers: fantastic visual effects, mildly intriguing characters, and . . . well, more fantastic visual effects. On the other hand, without a willful suspension of disbelief the plot clearly has more holes than a whiffleball. Additionally, the Wachowskis provide their typical potpourri of literary influences and philosophical ramblings, some of which work well, while others decidedly do not.

One of the more unique elements of the movie is the total anonymity of the main character. V spends the entire movie behind his mask, and viewers never once see his face. Without the help of the credits, most of the audience would never know that the character is played by Hugo Weaving. This requires a great deal of expressive body language from the actor, since he must communicate without the use of facial expressions, and Weaving succeeds admirably. The genteel tone he injects into V’s witty dialogue and his graceful poise create a distinct and compelling personality for V. V is a dark, conflicted character, but he is also sympathetic. Whatever else the film may get right or wrong, it is vital that the title character be done properly, and he is.

V for Vendetta, like its main character, has a great deal of style, but lacks real substance. There are genuinely stirring moments throughout the film, with some fine technical skills on display. V’s opening monologue is littered with a venerable variety of verbage beginning with the letter “v.” The spectacular explosions of V’s terrorist strikes on London are accompanied by the climax of Tchaikovsky’s “Overture of 1812,” to great effect. V’s mansion is overflowing with a pastiche of artifacts from both artistic and popular culture, and he rises to the refined atmosphere with quotes from Shakespeare, an affinity for swordplay and dancing, and a love of jazz and classic film. In one somewhat silly, but visually stunning sequence, V sets and then topples thousands of dominoes in a beautiful pattern, intercut with shots of his various plots and schemes reaching fruition as the movie rushes headlong into its climax. And, in the mandatory final battle he wields two large blades with the greatest of ease (that daring young man with the mask and the “V”s), leaving silver dagger trails in the air as he slaughters the villains.

In terms of spectacle there is much to enjoy. But spectacle alone does not make a great movie. For one thing, the plentiful plot holes that pepper this piece prevent it from proving perfect. If the viewer starts paying too much attention, the entire situation simply stops working. The serious circumstances in England could not possibly develop, V’s exploits are as unrealistic as those of Santa Claus. Even within the framework of the fantastic, the film fails to fully achieve a functional internal feasibility. However, one of the most genuinely grating aspects of V for Vendetta is undoubtedly the transparency of its message. The complete lack of subtlety in the villification of cartoonish religious figures is ludicrous.

One image, shown repeatedly throughout the film, visually equates Adam Sutler’s rise to power with that of Adolf Hitler. The only difference is the symbol. Sutler replaces the swastika with a double cross, a blatantly Christian reference. Strangely, no one in England at the time seems to have noticed the resemblance. The figure known as “The Voice of London” who preaches government propaganda justified by religious faith, is an obvious take-off on American pundits and televangelists. He is a grotesque and egotistical figure, whose private life completely belies his public image. And, of course, no parade of stereotypes would be complete without the perverted priest who nourishes a secret fetish for young girls.

There are some deep philosophical and political considerations lurking just below the surface of V for Vendetta, about the nature of terrorism, the need for security in a free society, and the corrupting influence of power. However, it is difficult to take any of these ruminations seriously when they are buried beneath frivolous (though impressive) action sequences and shallow attacks on fundamentalism and the religious right which are based on an incomplete understanding of the implicit worldviews. Ultimately, while the premise proves preposterous, and the picture preaches pernicious propaganda, there are plenty of pretty pyrotechnics and the protagonist plies points with polish and panache. The permissive public will perceive it as pleasurable despite its plethora of problems. Don’t go looking to learn anything or to “think deep thoughts.” Anyone the Wachowskis can sell on their thesis already has their mind made up before the previews start, and everyone else will just be annoyed by it. If you go at all, go to enjoy the style and the flair.

• Co-reviewed with Randy

Posted in Reviews

During the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, eleven Israeli athletes were taken hostage and murdered by Palestinian terrorists. Munich chronicles the retaliatory efforts and descent into madness of five Israelis who are secretly commissioned by their government to assassinate the men responsible for the attacks. With no prior experience, and very little stomach for such personalized killing, the team begins to work their way through the list they have been given. But before long things don’t seem nearly so black and white as they did at the beginning.

Your country and your countrymen have been under attack for years. After several citizens are slaughtered at a global event, your government decides it has had enough. They ask you to do something about it. How far would you be willing to go to protect your family and your home? The quick and easy answer for most people would probably be, “As far as it takes.” However, Munich asks viewers to step back and truly consider where that course of action might lead.

Avner (Eric Bana), a bodyguard for the Prime Minister, accepts the job to hunt down and kill the 11 men responsible for Munich. When he encounters the first man, he can not even be the first to shoot. By the time he reaches his last target, though, he has almost become a machine. He suffers from paranoia, and he is certain that he will soon feel no remorse from his actions. Avner is put in charge of a five-man team. Robert, a toymaker, constructs bombs. Hans, an antique shop owner, forges official documents. Carl ensures that the team does not leave evidence at the murder scene. Steve serves as a lookout and driver.

Each of these men brings a different perspective to the task they have been given, and each contributes to Avner’s journey. Steve dedicates himself fully to the job, occasionally wishing to defy orders in order to kill their targets. Hans, on the other hand, starts out dedicated and begins to doubt along the way whether they are accomplishing anything. Robert questions the righteousness of their actions. Carl worries that they have all become desensitized.

The movie plays like the cinematic equivalent of a Leon Uris novel. It is thick with names, places, and events, rich with detail. It powerfully evoking the early 1970s as the main characters travel all over the western world. Fashion, popular culture, and the international tensions of the Cold War are all displayed vividly, sometimes obviously and sometimes almost hiding in the background to heighten the feel of authenticity. It treats important events in the history of modern Israel. And it makes no concessions to the sensibilities of the viewer. The violent aspects associated with terrorism and assassination are almost overwhelming. As bombings, shootings, and stabbings exact their grisly toll, the camera continues to roll. If the characters cannot shut out the bloody images, then the audience will not be allowed to either.

This is Spielberg’s first historical epic about the Jewish people since Schindler’s List, and he brings the same skill, attention, and passion for his subject to this project. However, there are significant differences in Spielberg’s angle of approach. First, Munich is a movie with far less hope than Spielberg’s film about the Holocaust. That may sound strange, but in Schindler’s List the horrors of the Holocaust come to a definite end and there is a hope for the future. Munich chronicles one short chapter in a long history of escalating conflict between the Israeli and Palestinian peoples which still continues today with no end in sight.

The second significant difference between Munich and Schindler’s List is that the latter is shot in black and white, while the former is in color. No joke. In Schindler’s List the situation is as black and white as the film. The Nazis are evil. The Holocaust is evil. The List is good. One of the characters even calls it “an absolute good.” The Jews are good. However, by introducing color in “Munich,” Spielberg has also introduced a world where we cannot make such distinctions. It becomes increasingly clear that the categorization of “good” and “bad” guys in this sort of conflict is completely a matter of perspective.

In the final shot of the movie, the camera pulls back from two of the characters to reveal part of the New York skyline, with the twin towers of the World Trade Center clearly visible left of center, before fading to black. In a movie about terrorism, retaliation, and counter-retaliation set more than thirty years ago, it is no accident that the World Trade Center is prominently placed in the closing scene. The sight is sobering for two reasons: First, because it reminds us that our world is still plagued by the horrors of terrorism, and second, because we have just seen the terrifying personal and spiritual consequences of sinking to the level of responding in kind.

• Co-reviewed with Randy

Posted in Reviews