NEW RELEASESTHE LAST CASTLE From 1930’s The Big House through 1963’s The Great Escape to 1979’s Escape From Alcatraz, the prison flick has provided viewers with endless hours of hard-hitting, escapist fun. But if there’s a genre that has seemingly exhausted its resources and now stands ready to be put out to pasture, surely it’s this one — that is, unless somebody in Hollywood elects to make a prison flick in which the convicts are hardened criminals who really do deserve their incarceration (now wouldn’t that be a novel twist?). As it stands, this disappointing drama from director Rod Lurie (The Contender) trots out the usual suspects: the noble prisoner who doesn’t really deserve to be behind bars; the humorless warden whose stern tactics barely conceal a sadistic streak; the morally torn inmate who must decide before the climax where his loyalties rest; the harmless young prisoner who practically has “Story’s Sacrificial Lamb” stitched across his outfit; and the rest of the compound’s rapists, murderers and thieves, most of whom are presented as the kind of jovial, disciplined guys you’d be happy to invite over for a Sunday afternoon in front of the TV. For the record, the prison presented here is a military compound for disgraced soldiers, the virtuous prisoner leading the revolt is played by Robert Redford (in one of his dullest performances), and the twitchy warden is portrayed by James Gandolfini (in an atypically stilted turn). **
RIDING IN CARS WITH BOYS Director Penny Marshall, who’s never met an interesting storyline she couldn’t fumble (A League of Their Own excepted), applies her ham-fisted techniques to this adaptation of Beverly Donofrio’s autobiography about how she escaped from her miserable lot in life by going on to, well, write her autobiography. Drew Barrymore, who ages from 15 to 35 over the course of the film, stars as Beverly, who becomes pregnant at 15 and finds her future instantly derailed. Forced to give up on her plans to attend college, she instead drops out of school, marries the simpleton (Steve Zahn) who knocked her up, and raises her son to the best of her abilities. It’s not that this is a bad movie; it just never comes close to fulfilling its promise as either an inspirational human tale or a three-hanky weepie. Since most of the actors are appropriately cast — Brittany Murphy is especially effective as Bev’s best friend — the fault rests mainly with Marshall and scripter Morgan Upton Ward, neither of whom care to offer more than a surface glimpse at the horrors that Bev had to endure most of her life (it doesn’t help that the film can’t stay serious for more than two minutes at a time, with dramatic scenes eventually taking a turn for the quirky or cute). In the later scenes, 28-year-old Adam Garcia is cast as 26-year-old Barrymore’s son, perhaps the most egregious example of age-related miscasting since 51-year-old Ava Gardner played 59-year-old Lorne Greene’s daughter in Earthquake. 
CURRENT RELEASES
BANDITS Director Barry Levinson’s latest tries hard to be a quirky comedy (God, does it try), but the funniest moment in this criminally overlong picture turns out to be a purely unintentional one. Kate Wheeler (Cate Blanchett), a bored housewife who has hooked up with a pair of bank robbers known as “The Sleepover Bandits,” is stunned when she hears one of the crooks (Bruce Willis) mouth the words of the chorus from Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” “You know that song!” she bleats, as if that omniscient smash single were some obscure Gregorian chant and they were the only two people in the world familiar with it. Grab your chuckles where you can, because Bandits is such a complete mess, even the prospect of seeing Willis and Billy Bob Thornton mix it up fails to stir anything in the audience besides contempt. Like a squeaky axle that won’t quiet down over the course of a 500-mile road trip, this grates on the nerves almost from the start, when we realize that Thornton’s hypochondriac character is going to spend the entire 125-minute running time whining about his various ailments. Blanchett fares no better as the bargain basement screwball heroine in love with both men, and, for that matter, neither does Jane Fonda’s son Troy Garity as the gang’s thick-witted driver. Amazingly, even though he’s cast opposite Thornton, Blanchett and a Fonda heir, it’s Willis who comes out on top: Playing it closer to the vest, he at least provides a respite from all the mannered acting smothering the rest of the picture. 1/2
FROM HELL Known for their contemporary urban dramas Menace II Society and Dead Presidents, The Hughes Brothers (aka Allen and Albert Hughes) have returned with a thriller that’s set in 1888 London and focuses on Jack the Ripper. It’s admirable when any artist is able to break the shackles of preconceived notions, but for those still requiring some sort of connective tissue, it’s fairly obvious that From Hell is no different from its predecessors in that they all deal with the poverty, violence and drugs that are readily found on the mean city streets. In fact, what makes this more than just a slasher flick with a pedigree is its insistence on presenting its sordid tale at ground level, exploring the social chasm that existed between the upper and lower classes as much as recreating the killer’s grisly handiwork. This may not possess the macabre sense of showmanship that made Sleepy Hollow such a kinky kick (both films, incidentally, star Johnny Depp as a detective investigating bizarre murders), but on its own terms, it’s an effective thriller that’s densely plotted and well-paced. And as Depp’s character becomes more immersed in his investigation, we become more immersed in the period world that the Hughes and their crew have created. Between Martin Childs’ sets, Kym Barrett’s costumes, and Peter Deming’s mood-setting cinematography, this exudes authenticity right down to the last cobblestone. Well, OK: The Marilyn Manson song that plays over the closing credits may not exactly conjure images of 1888 London, but that’s a small concession I’m willing to make.
HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH Contrary to popular belief, comparing the cinematic version of Hedwig and the Angry Inch to the legendary Rocky Horror Picture Show (as many have been prone to do) does the new film no favors. Yes, Rocky Horror may be instantly recognizable even beyond the pop culture crowd, but while it may be an excellent midnight movie, it’s only so-so as a movie movie — away from all the festivities, it provides for a rather, umm, rocky viewing experience (try watching it at home alone if you don’t believe me). Hedwig, on the other hand, is a triumph no matter when or where it’s shown. Billed as a “post-punk neo-glam rock musical,” this adaptation of the 1998 Off-Broadway hit has enough surface kitsch to dazzle the senses, but it’s also an unexpectedly poignant tale of one individual’s journey toward becoming a complete person. Writer-director John Cameron Mitchell plays the role of Hedwig, a rock star wanna-be resentful not only of the botched sex change operation that left her with the titular “angry inch,” but also of her former boyfriend (Michael Pitt), who stole her songs and rode them all the way to fame and fortune. Powered by catchy, soaring rock anthems modeled after the Ziggy Stardust era, Hedwig, like Moulin Rouge before it, serves as a modern reminder of the ability of music to convey emotions when mere words won’t do. Yet this isn’t merely a vamp’n’tramp show; instead, Mitchell’s performance as Hedwig is about as fully realized as any you’ll see this year. 1/2
IRON MONKEY Miramax Films head Harvey Weinstein, reportedly upset that his studio didn’t land Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, has been busy dusting off older martial arts flicks from Asia and releasing them theatrically in the US. The latest revival is Iron Monkey, a 1993 yarn whose director (Yuen Wo Ping) was responsible for the action choreography in Crouching Tiger and The Matrix. While lacking the epic grandeur of Tiger, this one equals it in terms of its martial arts wizardry, showcasing some of the most exhilarating action sequences I’ve seen this year. Iron Monkey is the alias of a kindly doctor in a 19th century Chinese village who periodically dons a mask and takes on the corrupt governor (James Wong) and his men. His chief ally is his pretty assistant (Jean Wang), but he also receives unexpected help from a travelling physician (Donnie Yen) and his young son (played by a girl, Tsang Sze-Man). Iron Monkey has been repeatedly compared to the story of Robin Hood, but if anything, it reminded me of Disney’s Zorro series from the 50s, right down to the comic relief provided by the town’s bumbling police chief. Of course, the film’s true origins rest in the legend of Wong Fei-hong (seen here as the little boy), a real-life hero whose (fictionalized) exploits also fuel the plots of Once Upon a Time In China and The Legend of Drunken Master. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen this film’s final battle, in which combatants scuffle while perched on burning wood posts.
JOY RIDE Transcending its own limitations, Joy Ride, the sort of film that would normally pop up as a routine TNT or USA cable offering, instead emerges as a satisfying, hardcore thriller. Highly reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s Duel, this finds The Fast and the Furious‘ Paul Walker racking up more miles behind the wheel as a college kid who’s travelling cross-country with his potential sweetheart (Leelee Sobieki) and his ne’er-do-well brother (Steve Zahn). The siblings decide to use their newly purchased CB radio (described as “a prehistoric Internet”) to pull a prank on a trucker who goes by the handle “Rusty Nail”; what they soon discover is that Rusty Nail is a psychopath who’ll resort to anything — even murder — to pay back their practical joke. With a smart script by Clay Tarver and J.J. Abrams, this is the rare genre film to feature believable (and likable) kids as its protagonists rather than the usual imbecilic youths who end up as slasher fodder. Certainly, the screenplay contains a scattered number of plot inconsistencies, but the masterful direction by John Dahl (The Last Seduction) builds the suspense so effectively (the final half-hour may have you chewing your nails down to the cuticles) that the movie largely bulldozes through its shortcomings. But couldn’t they have come up with a better ending? It’s hard to imagine anyone will be satisfied with this film’s final twist.
MULHOLLAND DRIVE Audacious, infuriating, and the sort of divisive movie we’ve come to expect from one of America’s most idiosyncratic filmmakers, this actually began life as a TV series pilot that was quickly shelved. Seeking to then release it theatrically, Lynch secured backing from French financiers, shot additional scenes, and headed to Cannes, where he went on to win the Best Director prize. Like Lynch’s Twin Peaks, this juggles a number of characters and plotlines, though the central one concerns the efforts of an aspiring actress (Naomi Watts) to help an amnesiac (Laura Elena Harring) discover her true identity. Just as the movie reaches the point when we expect everything to come together, Lynch goes ballistic in terms of time and characterization; the result is an unnerving watch that yields no easy answers but instead forces the viewer, in Memento mode, to mentally play the entire film backward and determine what’s possibly real, what’s probably a dream (a Lynch obsession dating back to Eraserhead), and where this ultimately leads. As an exercise in bravura moviemaking, as well as a commentary on the very nature of cinema itself, this works quite well, but on an emotional level, it’s one of Lynch’s most distant pieces, with practically all the characters being moved around the sets like so many chess pieces. It’s only the unexpectedly complex portrayal by Watts that adds any lasting resonance to a work that, with apologies to Winston Churchill, can best be described as “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.”
MY FIRST MISTER Like Michael Caine in the 1980s, teenaged Leelee Sobieski has recently been appearing in movies left and right, following September’s The Glass House with Joy Ride and now this drama from actress Christine Lahti (making her feature film directing debut). One of those heartfelt efforts that means well but plays lamely, this stars Sobieski as 17-year-old Jennifer, a sullen teen who dresses in black, pierces practically every part of her body, and hates her divorced parents (Carol Kane and John Goodman). Seeking employment, she ends up working at a mall clothing store under the watchful eye of Randall (Albert Brooks), a fussy 49-year-old man with no friends but plenty of insecurities. After a rough start centered solely around a teen protagonist who’s not terribly interesting (Jennifer’s a far cry from Thora Birch’s equally wild child in Ghost World), My First Mister comes alive as it explores the sometimes tense, sometimes tender, and always platonic relationship that develops between these two loners. But rather than honestly explore how such an unorthodox friendship might progress, screenwriter Jill Franklin cops out by revealing that one of them has been diagnosed with a terminal illness (but of course); this in turn leads to a climactic Hallmark moment that cracks our suspension of disbelief wide open. Sobieski is too wholesome (at least on screen) to be convincing as a miserable kid prone to self-mutilation, but Brooks is excellent as the emotionally cloistered older man.
SERENDIPITY It’s the Christmas shopping season in New York, and Jonathan (John Cusack) and Sara (Kate Beckinsale) accidentally meet when they both reach for the same pair of gloves. They’re instantly attracted to each other, but rather than follow through on their feelings (as Jonathan wants), Sara decides to leave it to fate: If they’re meant to be together, they’ll eventually discover the phone numbers they write down for each other and send out into the world (he, on a five dollar bill; she, in a used book). Cut to several years later: Although they’re both set to marry other people, they each decide to take one last crack at finding the love that got away. The key question in any romantic comedy is this: Do we want to see this pair together? Sadly, it didn’t matter to me as far as this film was concerned. Jonathan is a real find — what woman wouldn’t want a guy this witty and romantic? — but it was all but impossible to take Sara seriously after she concocts the dopey scheme that sets the plot in motion (just give him your phone number already!). And while the audience’s attention is supposed to be on the happiness of the principals, my mind kept drifting toward Jonathan’s fiancee (Bridget Moynahan), a likable woman who, if Jonathan and Sara’s search proves successful, will end up humiliated on her wedding day (no Happily Ever After for her, I suppose). It’s a shame the picture’s very premise seems forced, because the performances are engaging (Eugene Levy steals it as a terse salesman) and the dialogue extremely sharp. 1/2
TRAINING DAY What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object? Or, to parlay this eternal conundrum into cinematic terms, what happens when an amazingly versatile actor is forced to share screen time with a performer so immobile, he makes the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey appear as active as a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday? The answers vary, of course, but in this case, the happy result is that wooden Ethan Hawke was apparently inspired to raise himself out of his career-long slumber and try to keep pace with the extraordinary Denzel Washington. Indeed, the work by both actors is what keeps us watching even after the movie surrounding them falls apart. Washington is especially rivetting as Alonzo Harris, an LA narcotics officer who gives rookie Jake Hoyt (Hawke) one day to see if he has what it takes to work under his command. Jake is thrilled with the opportunity, but he soon realizes that Alonzo’s methods, which usually involve bending or breaking the law, fly in the face of his own idealism. Beyond the high-caliber performances, there’s a delicious ambiguity in David Ayer’s screenplay that suggests Alonzo’s dirty deeds might be the only way for a cop to survive on the streets. Unfortunately, somebody connected with the film soon decided that moral uncertainty in a motion picture doesn’t allow that popcorn to settle comfortably in the stomach, and what started out as tantalizingly clouded eventually comes into dreary black and white focus, turning the film into a fairly routine (not to mention contrived) police shoot-’em-up. 1/2
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DON’T SAY A WORD After his daughter gets kidnapped by the usual mix of movie thugs, a New York psychiatrist (Michael Douglas) learns that the only way he’ll get her back is by extracting valuable information from the mind of one of his patients (Brittany Murphy), a catatonic woman with a murky past. Murphy’s disturbed character is the most interesting one in the film, and this might have worked had it focused on her instead of the dull doctor.
GHOST WORLD A disaffected teen named Enid (Thora Birch) spends her time wryly commenting on those around her in this razor-sharp satire from director-cowriter Terry Zwigoff (Crumb). Birch is splendid as the outsider who wears her disdain for the civilized world on her sleeve, while Steve Buscemi has a career-defining role as a lonely guy whose very cluelessness makes him cool in Enid’s eyes. 1/2
GLITTER Or, A Star Is Stillborn. Outside of some welcome shots of the intact World Trade Center (one of the few films with the smarts to leave them in), there’s absolutely nothing of interest in a vanity piece so self-absorbed, it makes Prince’s Under the Cherry Moon look like a model of modesty and restraint. In her feature film debut, pop singer Mariah Carey displays all the acting ability of a Chia pet.
ZOOLANDER An imbecilic male model (Ben Stiller) becomes involved with a shadowy cabal that uses imbecilic male models to carry out political assassinations. Stiller also directed, co-wrote and co-produced this hit-and-miss effort, a frequently timid spoof that’s surprisingly arid in between the handful of genuinely splendid gags. 1/2
This article appears in Oct 24-30, 2001.
