Lauren_Simpson Reviews

Perfect Stranger (2007)

Sexy Berry but Far from Perfect

[4/10 · 13 April 2007]

Aptly set in the smug, sexed-up world of commercial advertising, "Perfect Stranger" is itself an imposter. A pumped-up product of Hollywood's Madison Avenue mentality, the film is awash with product placement, from Reebok to Victoria's Secret, and judging from the number of over-emphasized shots of her bodily assets, Halle Berry's for sale too.

Directed by con artiste James Foley, whose last film was 2003's "Confidence," "Perfect Stranger" is a film attempting to be a techno-thriller, playing on the way the internet masks identities and can host all kinds of dirty little secrets.

Berry is Rowena, a reporter who lusts after news stories that dish the dirt on wealthy, corrupt men. One of these men, high profile ad executive Harrison Hill (Bruce Willis), becomes the reporter's prime target after an old friend tracks her down and spins her a tale of web seduction, adultery and rejection.

In reality, the "I-got-dumped-by-a-married-man" story isn't too juicy for a reporter hoping to nab a Pulitzer, but Rowena takes it. The stakes are raised when the friend ends up dead, provoking an undercover stint at Hill's ad agency, where Rowena hopes to bait the lecherous boss-man albeit with the help of her on-call tech wiz, Miles (Giovanni Ribisi). This is where "Perfect Stranger" starts to get silly.

We all know that sex sells but, when packaged poorly, it can be a big turn off. Berry is gorgeous and, at times, channels Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct." Nevertheless, due to flaws in the script and Foley's heavy-handed direction, the film suffers from being over-sexualized, which pushes key scenes into embarrassingly cringe-worthy territory.

Worse than that, the third act reveals that "Perfect Stranger" is not really about sex or its corrupting power. It's about something entirely different: hidden traumas, self-loathing and lingering guilt. Repeatedly featuring Victoria's Secret throughout the narrative does not count as a clever way to explore themes related to non-disclosure and yet "Perfect Stranger" milks the panty peddler for all it's worth.

Rowena is a layered character but we don't fully understand her complexities until the end of the film. It's not wrong for a film to lead the audience on; the best thrillers, in fact, capitalize on this technique. They do this, however, by suffusing the first two acts with details that will make audience members think, "I knew it all along," as the final act concludes, even when they didn't.

That skill is one that co-writer Jon Bokenkamp seemed to have mastered when he penned "Taking Lives," a film that "Perfect Stranger" emulates. Unfortunately he and co-writer Todd Komarnicki failed to reproduce the effect and we're left floundering, with a movie that does nothing but infuriate the viewer and mocks itself further in the last few frames.

It'll be hard to sit through most of it, but if you're going to do it, don't miss the last ten minutes. They contain information barely alluded to in the preceding 100 minutes but they are the most important ten minutes in the entire production. Those instructions aside, "Perfect Stranger" does not come highly recommended unless, of course, you enjoy watching an Oscar winner add another defeat to her now infamous losing streak.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Coffee Date (2006)

Awkward Coffee Date a Strange Brew

[4/10 · 13 April 2007]

There's something admirable about the low-budget comedy "Coffee Date" and the questions it's willing to ask about sexual identity. Indie writer-director Stewart Wade, who explored the issues in two previous shorts, delves back into the realm of hetero-homo angst, this time in feature length format by taking an look at what would happen to a straight man if everyone around him decided he was gay.

Todd (Jonathan Bray) is the straight man in question: a poster child for retired frat boys aspiring to modern yuppie-dom. Nevertheless, in search of something more "substantial" than the endless string of one-night stands, he goes on a blind date arranged by his brother Barry (Jonathan Silverman). He's surprised to find that his date, Kelly, is actually a man (Wilson Cruz of "My So-Called Life" fame) and even more surprised to learn that they have a lot in common, despite differing sexual orientations.

It's a typically platonic meet-and-greet until Todd, in an inane attempt at retaliation, plays an unlikely joke on Barry by pretending that he slept with his new gay buddy. The ripple effect is one that Todd could never have predicted. His mother's one-woman gay pride parade, coupled with his co-workers' belief that he couldn't be anything but homosexual, leads him to question whether their instincts could be right - and his wrong. Meanwhile, Kelly grapples with his fond feelings toward the straight guy.

The situation is interesting in its potential plausibility; after all, even the most self-secure heterosexuals are likely to doubt themselves in a climate of overwhelming disbelief. Nevertheless, "Coffee Date" is a film that stumbles tactlessly into all the uncomfortable cringe-inducing traps inherent to its premise. Archaic, hackneyed notions of both homosexual and heterosexual behavior masquerade as comedy, rendering the real laughs few and far between.

For one thing, it isn't all that funny that a man would wipe his palm on his shirt after shaking hands with his presumed-to-be-gay brother. Just as unfunny is the stereotypical "heterosexual panic attack" modeled by Todd when he goes into the bathroom at a gay and lesbian café and is joined by a man at the next urinal. And while we're talking about stereotypes, does every gay man really worship the likes of Judy Garland and Barbra Streisand? "She is the world's greatest living singer and criminally underrated as a director," raves Kelly as Todd eyes a framed poster of Babs. According to "Coffee Date," the answer is yes.

But in terms of answering the most loaded question of all: Can a straight man be friends with a gay man without succumbing to Brokeback Syndrome? "Coffee Date" makes the biggest mistake of all. It fakes left and unnecessarily goes right. "I can have friends that I don't sleep with," says Kelly in an early scene. The film's final verdict leaves one thing clear: If straight guys see this movie with their homosexual friends, it's going to be an awkward walk home.

Copyright (c) 2007 by Lauren Simpson

Carjacking (2006)

Carjacking Leaves the Case Unsolved

[6/10 · 1 March 2007]

"Carjacking," a short film directed by Danny Passman, gives us a glimpse into the lives of the type of people who know how to talk but, for all their jibber-jabber, can't figure out how to communicate.

The short focuses on one of these people in particular—Cary (Shiri Appleby), a young woman who, perpetually whining into her hands-free headset, manages to obliviously annoy everyone around her as she runs errands in preparation for her impending wedding.

It is a carjacking in East LA that alters Cary's implied narrow perspective on life, albeit in ways the film never explores. The woman is finally silenced; her cell phone and Jaguar XK are whizzing away, down the 101 and Cary, stranded and slightly rattled, sits at a bus stop thinking … what? It never becomes clear. What we do know is that the formerly garrulous woman doesn't want to talk about her experience with her fiancé, her mother or her insipid band of friends. Big questions are left unanswered, leaving the audience, unnecessarily, high and dry. The tension is set up but there's no pay-off.

Thankfully "Carjacking" isn't flawed for any other reason than that it leaves you wanting. In part, it's a testament to Appleby's talent. Playing Cary, the actress has limited textual material to build on but she creates a character worth watching, whose story, we know, exists somewhere behind her lonesome brown gaze and beyond what her feeble strings of words can express.

With a less intuitive lead performance, "Carjacking" could've been a very dry 15 minutes; instead it's merely half-baked—and, to be fair, there are much bigger mistakes the film could make.

Copyright (c) 2007 by Lauren Simpson

Fast Food Nation (2006)

"Fast Food" Fails to Satisfy or Disgust

[6/10 · 28 November 2006]

"There's sh*t in the meat," says one Mickey's marketing executive to another in Richard Linklater's "Fast Food Nation." Given that Mickey's is the fictional stand-in for McDonald's, in a film based on Eric Schlosser's non-fiction exposé of the same name, there's definitely cause for concern. But don't get your hopes up. This is as provocative as "Fast Food Nation" gets.

We start off with Greg Kinnear as Don Anderson, one of the aforementioned Mickey's marketing brains. Don is sent to the fictional UMP meat-packing plant in Colorado to investigate the cause of contaminated burger patties and is surprised by the grisly, unpleasant realities of fast food production. This world is also populated by immigrant workers who are variously abused and exploited by the corporation that employs them.

Among them is Raul (Wilmer Valderrama, unable to shake the ghost of MTV's "Yo Momma" in his first serious role). His performance is propped up by Catalina Sandino Moreno ("Maria Full of Grace") and Ana Claudia Talancón ("The Crime of Padre Amaro"), cast as sisters who fall prey to the sexual appetite of their UMP supervisor (an amusingly deceptive Bobby Cannavale).

"Fast Food Nation" also shows what goes on behind the fast food counter, trailing a teenage Mickey's employee who promptly quits her job at the local franchise, joins a group of young activists and finds out that their anti-establishment activities are ultimately pointless. The narratives interweave but most of the characters never meet each other.

This study of the fast food industry from a variety of angles is an attempt to illustrate both the vastness of its influence and the seriousness of its negative effects on society. Unfortunately "Fast Food Nation" doesn't execute this strategy with much finesse. The narratives are pedestrian, minimally dramatic and never implicate the audience. Instead of being biting and critical, "Fast Food Nation" is tame—even elegiac, suggesting that the damage has already been done. So why should we care?

Schlosser's book was bent on exposing the filthy underbelly of the fast food machine for the purpose stimulating change in America. "Fast Food Nation," the film, is a low-calorie, disposable version of the original—certainly not rabble-rousing fare. While the book was consistently compelling, the film's revelations steadily reduce over 106 minutes and its characters fade away.

Ultimately, it seems the urgency with which it should convey its unsanitary message has been lost in the meat-grinder of literary adaptation. "Fast Food Nation" should've been a documentary. Instead, it barely sizzles as fiction.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Bobby (I) (2006)

Estevez Trades Riots for Romance, Politics for Poetry

[28 November 2006]

In the wake of the heated November elections, writer and director Emelio Extevez could have chosen no better time to release "Bobby" his film paying homage to Robert F. Kennedy, the New York senator and presidential hopeful who was gunned down at his California Primary party at the Ambassador Hotel in 1968.

While contemporary America faces the social and political crises of the new millennium, "Bobby" serves as a look back to another historical moment fraught with similar tensions across racial and class lines—a moment when the word "Vietnam" was as likely to incite anger and dispute as the mention of Iraq is today.

Nevertheless, these parallels are not the focus in the film. Estevez, with his romantic, elegiac script, isn't very interested in politics, beyond setting up historical context for his audience. Instead the director (who also stars in the film) dramatizes the events of June 4 by looking at the poetry of everyday lives. The stifled, expectant, desperate people at the Ambassador Hotel have all (consciously or unconsciously) hung their hopes on one man and will have them crushed in an instant.

The ensemble cast includes Harry Belafonte and Anthony Hopkins as retired employees of the Ambassador who reflect on days gone by. Meanwhile the hotel lobby buzzes in anticipation of Kennedy's arrival. The hotel is run by Paul Ebbers (William H. Macy), an otherwise good husband who is having an affair. Wife Miriam (Sharon Stone) is the caring in-house hair-stylist who passively counsels her wealthy clients on their relationship dysfunctions, oblivious to her own. She calms the fears of a teenage bride-to-be (Lindsay Lohan) who is marrying a classmate (Elijah Wood) to save him from being sent to Vietnam.

Christian Slater stars as a disgruntled, bigoted boss, presiding over the kitchen staff. These workers include Mexicans Miguel (Jacob Vargas) and Jose (Freddy Rodríguez) and a black sous chef, Edward, played by Laurence Fishburne in a trite, under-written role. Elsewhere in the hotel Demi Moore shines as Virginia Fallon, a gifted but alcoholic singer married to world-weary Tim (Estevez). Martin Sheen appears as an inwardly depressed New Yorker, in town with his fussy wife (Helen Hunt). The talent rounds out with Joshua Jackson and Nick Cannon as Kennedy campaign aides, Shia Lebeouf and Brian Geraghty as volunteer workers who play hooky and Ashton Kutcher as the hippie drug dealer who introduces the latter pair to LSD.

"Bobby" is brimming with mega-watt stars who ably bring their characters to life. None are particularly resonant, however, and here the writing is as fault. Estevez tells several stories concurrently. Though each one is delicately constructed some narrative rhythms are a little off, climaxing too early or not at all.

The director also tries too hard to conjure profound moments. As a result the tone of the film sometimes feels forced. Nevertheless Estevez has a Kennedy in his corner. With clips from Bobby Kennedy's recorded speeches spliced into the diegetic soundtrack, it's this voice from beyond the grave that will stir the emotions of movie-goers everywhere.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Harsh Times (2005)

David Ayer Soldiers On with Madcap Cops in Training

[7/10 · 11 November 2006]

David Ayer's "Harsh Times," set against the gritty landscape of L.A.'s ganglands, will probably acquire the nickname "Training Day Redux." Ayer penned the screenplay for 2001's Denzel Washington vehicle and, two films later, continues his exploration of dirty cops and road-trips to self-destruction—this time as a writer-director—demonstrating that he can orchestrate a film just as well as he can script one. Unfortunately the story lacks the sophistication of those it pays homage to ("Apocalypse Now" among them) but it's bad and bold enough to amaze and frighten, featuring dramatic performances that are not to be missed.

"Harsh Times" tells the story of two long-time friends who reunite in South Central after Jim (Christian Bale) returns from a tour of duty in Iraq. Jim needs employment within the LAPD so that he can marry his Mexican girlfriend and "import" her to the United States. Buddy Mike (Rodríguez) is unemployed and looking for a way out of life lived in permanent exile on the living room couch. A job-search begins and ends abruptly as the friends decide that it's more fun to drink and drive around Los Angeles while jacking guns and dope from gang members than it is to hand out résumés. And it is—for a while.

The film is at times farcical and laugh-out-loud hilarious. It captures the language of cocky young hoodlums perfectly and the chemistry between Bale and Rodríguez is better than that of any on-screen duo in recent history. "Harsh Times" then starts to live up to its name by delivering a dark descent into madness, capped by a cheerless and brutal climax.

Bale is eruptive. As Jim he plays a juvenile delinquent dressed in a man-suit. The very worst product of war, he brings the battle home and unleashes a fickle and violent version of himself on any who cross his path. The performance is awesome and menacing—enhanced at crucial points by Rodríguez as Mike, the ill fated partner in crime and foil. The "Six Feet Under" alum initially plays a thankless role but he emerges out of his character's vulgarities and inspires real sympathy as the guy who is forced to make the most perilous life-and-death decisions.

Ayer's main problem is that he positions Jim as the tragic hero (and villain) but doesn't follow through with the design; Jim can't grasp his transformation and thus can't take responsibility for it. His naïve display of remorse at the eleventh hour undermines the power of his profound failures. This could be Ayer's way of making sure he limits his critique to the military and not to his hero's character but that's too easy a move in a film that makes a spectacle of being hard. Jim can be a good guy turned bad by the system but he can also be a guy who succumbs to the dark side of humanity and is conscious of it all the way down.

Either way, we need to see some kind of revelation for his actions to mean anything. Jim needs to suffer the penalty of self-knowledge. Otherwise he's just a thug who made a mistake. It's not difficult to figure out which is more compelling.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Del Toro Loses Focus

[4/10 · 6 November 2006]

Guillermo Del Toro's latest foray into the grim and fantastic underworld of the human imagination is probably best described as the mutant cousin to 2001's Gothic hit "The Devil's Backbone." The latter was a beautiful, chilling thriller, pitting a child against the horrors of wartime in Spain. The former, "Pan's Labyrinth," continues in the same vein, but Del Toro seems to have lost his focus. The result is a topsy-turvy morass of a film that becomes increasingly ridiculous and offensive as the run-time unfurls.

The central character, Ofelia, played by Spanish newcomer Ivana Banquero, is a child isolated by the harshness of conflict during the Spanish Civil War. Her imagination runs wild, but her Gothic fictions—obvious defense-mechanisms against reality—become corporeal with the help of a mystical fawn, Pan, who resides in a hidden forest labyrinth. While Ofelia embarks on a secret mission, people around her drop like flies due to the sadistic practices of Captain Vidal, her malicious step-father. Vidal, a highly ranked officer in the Francisco Franco regime, will do anything to protect his legacy and his autocratic way of life. Del Toro uses him to underscore the idea that the greatest villains exist not just in dreams but also in waking life.

Banquero, the lone child in the cast, who was 11 when "Pan's Labyrinth" was shot, is very convincing as Ofelia and deftly handles a challenging role. Sergi López ("Dirty Pretty Things") and Maribel Verdú ("Y tu Mamá También"), playing Captain Vidal and servant Mercedes, respectively, turn out visceral performances. But a flawed plot overshadows these strengths.

The juxtaposition of light, saccharine moments with repulsive, horrific scenes makes the dark, dramatic "Labyrinth" almost comical. Elements of the film that Del Toro intends to be poignant come off as flimsy and manipulative. Also, the trials Ofelia must undergo in the fantasy world are far from challenging. In fact, we are given little incentive to believe in the necessity for their completion. The prize is said to be eternal life in the dream world. Nevertheless, despite the grim landscape of war-torn Spain, Ofelia seems loathe to separate from her mother and the only life she's ever known—and why shouldn't she when her dreamscapes are at times nightmarish and intensely claustrophobic?

While "Pan's Labyrinth" can be applauded for its richly textured imagery, it falls short of reaching the narrative heights of other recent Del Toro films. Not even the input of Alfonso Cuarón, who produced the film, seems to have helped. In fact, one might question whether "Labyrinth" was a failed attempt at mating horror with "Harry Potter." Such an experiment requires a fine alchemist to get the balance right. In this case, the alchemist mixed ingredients to suit two audiences that have radically different tastes. What we're left with is a witch's brew. A fairytale ending doesn't always offer redemption.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Idlewild (2006)

Idlewild is Wildly Off Base

[2/10 · 5 September 2006]

"Idlewild" is almost unbearable to watch. It's "The Color Purple" crossed with "Moulin Rouge" crossed with "Hoodlum" crossed with "Six Feet Under." In short, it's two hours too long and makes a mockery of the four previously mentioned works.

Quite attractive is the prospect of a film with an all black cast. "Idlewild" could have been a welcome addition to the short catalogue of contemporary Blaxploitation films but this movie was less "Blax" and more "Blaggh!" Stereotypes are thick throughout, which is not always a problem except that, in "Idlewild," they serve no purpose—didactic, comedic or otherwise. Indeed it seems as if director Bryan Barber half believes the crude and bizarre temperaments of his main characters. Do any of these people have genuine depth? Efforts to give them any turned out shallow.

Andre 3000 plays a lonely piano player in 1930s Georgia who stumbles upon the love of his life in the shape of Paula Patton (fellow band-mate Big Boi's wife). He then hangdogs his way through the rest of the movie, while Patton does her best Shug Avery—very very badly. Big Boi (Antwan Patton) can't do much better either but not because he lacks talent. As Rooster, the popular juke joint performer, he infuses the dance numbers with his own trademark laid-back charm, but the most his character is allowed to do offstage is drink and fire a gun. How's that for a stereotype? Terrence Howard is also weighed down by the same old bad-guy act that strangled his creativity and hid his range for years. At some point, his character's brutality becomes ridiculously gratuitous.

In fact, gratuitousness could be the main theme in "Idlewild" or is it morbidity? All I know is that the next time I want to see someone serenading a corpse is never.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

She's the Man (2006)

Bynes and Company Score a Hat Trick

[6/10 · 16 March 2006]

Though I hate to admit it, Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith have scored again. "She's the Man" is a ridiculous but ultimately entertaining teen movie which takes the gender-bending action of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" and drops it in the middle of a modern-day American boarding school. The premise should sound familiar because screenwriters Lutz and Smith also penned "10 Things I Hate About You," another twist on Shakespeare, starring the likes of Julia Styles and Academy Award nominee Heath Ledger (before he was an Academy Award nominee).

It's more of the same, of course, but seeing Shakespeare's work go Hollywood, and, thus, be ripped to shreds, continues to amuse. "She's the Man" also focuses on a decidedly less bitter heroine than the shrew, Katarina, played in 1999 by a very stilted Styles. If that makes the film less witty, who cares? Not half of this film's target audience, who came mostly to see Channing Tatum with his shirt off.

Like Kat in "10 Things," Viola (Amanda Bynes) is a tomboy and a soccer star on the women's team at Cornwall Prep. Her life is soccer, which becomes a problem when her school cuts the women from the sports program. Better than most of the boys, Viola wants to suit up with them but is snubbed by both the coach and the team's captain – her boyfriend. So it's "end of discussion … end of relationship." Viola hatches a plan to pursue her sporting dreams at rival school Illyria, where her twin brother has just enrolled. Twin brother, Sebastian, is skipping off to England for two weeks and nobody at Illyria has ever met him.

If you missed the set up, read "Twelfth Night." It's pretty obvious what happens from here. Viola disguises herself as her brother and moves into the dorms where she meets her roommate and fellow soccer player Duke (Channing Tatum). She begins to gear up for Illyria's season opener against Cornwall and has to navigate a complicated love-triangle, in addition to other challenges like taking a shower alongside her male teammates, without them finding out about her girl parts.

In reality, nobody who looks like Bynes could get away with impersonating a 17 year-old male. Viola is too pretty to be a boy; in other words, dressed as her brother, she makes Orlando Bloom look like a frost-bitten lumberjack. This fantasy aspect doesn't detract from the film, though. Viola puts on her wig and fake sideburns and, suddenly, she's the most socially awkward nerd-boy you've ever seen. Suspension of disbelief works.

The Sebastian disguise doesn't have to be convincing. What matters is that all the other characters are oblivious to facts that are obvious to the audience. The laughs come from seeing Viola get away with a ridiculous scam. In one scene, Duke and fake Sebastian hug each other, but Viola slips out of character and gets a little too friendly. It's not that homoeroticism or homophobia are inherently funny, it's the knowledge that Duke is disturbed by being frisked by someone who is actually a girl that makes us laugh.

Other than that, "She's the Man" offers audiences the simple pleasure of Amanda Bynes who seems to be a natural in comedic roles. Her Sebastian/Viola is definitely a caricature but it's a perfectly illustrated one. From her mixed-up half southern, half Canadian drawl (her misguided version of the typical teen boy cadence), to her crotch grabbing and Eminem-like posturing, Bynes has a lot of fun and, as a result, the jokes land.

It's a teen movie, so the ending is typical and cheesy. While sister film "10 Things I Hate About You" had a wild feminist streak in it and touched on somewhat weighty issues, such as the pressure to have sex, "She's the Man" lacks a serious undercurrent. But this is probably a good thing. "10 Things" was, at times, too earnest and moralizing. "She's the Man" doesn't pretend to be more important than it is. It'll earn a spot on the shelf, in between "Bend It Like Beckham" and "Legally Blonde." (And, like Reese, maybe Bynes will win an Oscar in 10 years. Anything is possible – just look at how "Crash" won Best Film.)

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Firewall (2006)

Firewall Burns Out Early

[4/10 · 7 March 2006]

"Firewall" puts Harrison Ford between a rock and a hard place. Here's a man who's a power-player in his field forced to sabotage his career by money-hungry men with no regard for his profession. These men wear suits and inhabit the boardrooms of the biggest studios in Hollywood. But what about the movie?

In this second-rate action flick, Ford plays computer security specialist Jack Stanfield, a loyal bank executive and serious family man who lives in a stunning house with wife Beth (Virginia Madsen) and two kids. But a bigger company is about to buy out Jack's bank and, as a result, his company is under more surveillance than usual.

We learn early on that Jack's family is being watched also. The film opens nicely with footage of the Stanfield family going about their daily business — and it's footage obviously shot in secret from a distance. After the montage is over, however, the voyeuristic thrill of stalking an unwitting target is never again recaptured. Instead, we are treated to the achingly slow process of Jack being introduced to and later cornered by villain Bill Cox (Paul Bettany).

Cox is a straight-faced criminal plotting to use Jack's technological know-how to break the codes and circumvent the firewalls built to protect Landrock Pacific Bank's millions. He and a group of young gun-toting mercenaries barge into Jack's life and take the family hostage - a persuasive tactic, one would think, but it takes Jack a surprisingly long time to understand the gravity of this threat and take appropriate action.

Cox's crack team doesn't exactly have a lot of "crack" left in its whip. These amateur goons are obnoxious and bumble around not at all invested in what they're doing. Much of the movie shows them cloistered in the Stanfield household, eating food and watching TV while their prisoners wander around more or less undisturbed and certainly not imprisoned.

In fact, nobody seems to care about the situation — not the kids, not Jack, not Beth. So why should director Richard Loncraine expect us to care either? Madsen was brilliant in "Sideways," but in "Firewall" her performance is lacking. There are no hysterics, no tears and no signs of any inner emotional struggle when strangers threaten her with guns. Instead, Beth is calm, which, in the context of an action-thriller, is a counterintuitive choice for the actress to make. Nevertheless, it's Harrison Ford who seems to be making most of the bad choices these days.

As I watched Jack sit on the couch in one scene, the deep crags in his face twitching as he tries to figure out how to get out of this situation, I wondered if what I was really witnessing was the actor behind the character trying to figure out a way to get out of this movie. Ford's effort is admirable, but, unfortunately, the half-baked script and meager direction undermines any positives brought to the table.

It's a shame, too, because "Firewall" also features the talents of veterans such as Robert Forster ("Jackie Brown"), Alan Arkin ("Slums of Beverly Hills") and Robert Patrick ("Terminator 2: Judgment Day"). Mary Lynn Rajskub of "24" fame also stars, reprising her role as the only girl you can trust at the office. Stick to Jack Bauer, Mary, and I'll stick to television when I want a good thriller.

Incidentally, guess what's up next for Keifer Sutherland: action-thriller "The Sentinel," with old-timer Michael Douglas in the lead. It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?

Copyright (c) 2006 by Lauren Simpson

Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005)

Documenting the Strange and Familiar

[8/10 · 30 January 2006]

On one hand the circumstances of "Me and You and Everyone We Know" are familiar; what father doesn't have communication problems with his children? Is there a single block in suburban America that doesn't have its obligatory underage jail bait hanging out on the corner? It would be a strange universe if we didn't have these things and if we didn't daily meet with rejection and self-doubt. But on the other hand, the characters that inhabit this film are strange. To save his own life, a father sets his hand on fire. His seven year-old son liberates another human being with "poop," and a local pervert publicly advertises his sick fantasies by pasting signs on the windows of his house. "Me and You and Everyone We Know" is a film about odd people, but what's strange is that we recognize them. They're an expression of us.

Domino (2005)

True Hollywood Story: Domino

[8/10 · 14 October 2005]

On the outside, "Domino" looks like yet another example of Tony Scott flexing his artistic muscle through his trademark cinematic style. The director is known for his forays into adrenal, disorienting surrealism, the most recent example of this being 2004's "Man on Fire." Scott has a flair for quick-cuts, whimsical superimposed titles and moody cross-processing that, if not apparent in his last feature, is fully exposed in "Domino." Some will say these techniques crowd out the story and distract from a plot that is complicated enough already. And that might've been true in another film. But critics have underestimated Scott.

In "Domino," the true significance of the story rests within Scott's seemingly problematic, electric visuals. The weight of Scott's storytelling in this film is immense but creatively camouflaged behind a sexed-up facade. In reality, the late Domino Harvey, was, and still is, just as complicated – a riddle, waiting to be solved. It makes sense, then, that any film portraying Harvey would follow suit.

"Domino" is based, "sort of," on Harvey's wild days as a Los Angeles bounty hunter. The film, narrated by Domino (Keira Knightley), shows flashbacks of her life and offbeat career. Laurence Harvey, Domino's movie star father, dies and her mother decides to leave England for California, taking her young daughter with her. In Los Angeles, Domino grows up an outsider, gets kicked out of schools and tries modeling but quickly tires of it. Finally the ex-model, who says she's been practicing violence since age 12, decides to make a career out of bounty hunting.

In due course, the professionals, Ed and Choco (Mickey Roarke and Edgar Ramirez) take a chance on the tough-as-nails rookie and soon the three become inseparable. They bust fugitives, living life on the fringe, until Domino's story reaches Hollywood TV execs, who send cameras to trail her as part of an ill-advised reality show named, "Bounty Squad."

Naturally, the bounty hunters' lives are later thrown into further chaos when a job gets botched by the conflicting agendas of their bail bondsman boss, the FBI, the mob and four anonymous crooks. The twists and turns lead to a dramatic denouement in Las Vegas - a bloodbath, which takes place at the top of the Stratosphere Hotel, amid the roar of circling FBI helicopters (in true Tony Scott fashion).

The film is unapologetically divergent from the truth; many details are completely fictional. Despite these trespasses, however, "Domino" does what it is supposed to do; it gets the most important things right – The facts are ultimately irrelevant because Harvey's distinctive spirit is represented.

In the images flickering frenetically across the screen, Scott succeeds in evoking the sense of a powerful yet fragile existence – one that is undoubtedly true to life. His stock double exposures and psychedelic colors aren't gratuitous here; Scott uses them to convey the dangerous and transient nature of Harvey's life in a way that seems both hyper-splashy and acutely insightful. It's not often that one can fulfill the commercial requisite at the same time as being attentive to character, but Scott pulls it off.

Domino states in the film, as she also stated in life, that she finds the Hollywood fishbowl, the "'90210' world," abhorrent. So how does this mesh with the glittering fakery Scott displays? The answer is: perfectly. Though "Domino" is highly exemplary of Tinseltown's bombastic commercialization, this works in the film's favor because "Domino" is, in many ways, a deliberate swipe at the entertainment industry – a self-reflexive film masquerading as a popcorn action flick, which satirizes LA's charlatans in a way Harvey probably would've greatly appreciated.

During their introductions, Ed, lead bounty hunter, asks Domino what her full name is, to which she replies, "Just Domino." At the end of the film, cast credits flash on screen sans identifying surnames. You don't have to be a genius to understand the meaning of this. We all know who Keira Knightley is from our tabloid magazines, but "Keira" is an unknown, just as Domino was a stranger to anyone who knew her famous father.

By the end of "Domino," the only people who seem real are the bounty hunters. Though Domino and her crew are ruthless, antisocial, gun-toters, they are infinitely more likable than the nymphomaniac entertainment lawyers, the nameless FBI agents and the smarmy television actors who populate the rest of the film. These are people who live far more nauseating existences. They are the people whose messes Domino cleans up.

Keira Knightley, excellently cast in the lead role, simultaneously embodies Harvey's toughness along with the gravitas and quiet desolation of a woman who had designs on freedom but found herself still operating both inside the intrigues of a corrupt society, as well as inside a prison of her own making – a drug addiction. This part of her life isn't fully explored in the film and many of her motivations are left a mystery, communicated instead through some bizarre flourishes of 'Richard Kelly theology.' However, "Domino" preserves Harvey's mysticism and, in some ways, this is the best form of memorialization. The fictional Domino taunts the audience with the line, "I'll never tell you what it all meant." It's possible that these words may have come directly from the lady herself.

Copyright (c) 2005 by Lauren Simpson

Heights (2005)

Modern relationships go bust in the city.

[6/10 · 10 September 2005]

The last of Ismail Merchant's films, set in New York City, is a voyeuristic journey into the interlocking lives of five people struggling in their relationships and in their own skins. An actress, a photographer, a lawyer, a wannabe, a journalist - "Heights" is a montage of New York characters, some intriguing, some as dull as dishwater. In fact, Glenn Close admits as much, at the very beginning of the film. Most of us, she says to a group of Juilliard students, are like "tap water," we lack passion, electricity, and the will to take action.

Close's character, Diana, a famous veteran of the Broadway stage, who specializes in Shakespeare, fails to take her own advice and is in fact tiptoeing around the open affair her husband is having with her understudy. She is, however, the most fearless of all the characters in Heights. She is as sassy as Mrs. Robinson and as layered as the Lady Macbeth she plays on stage. And, with Glenn Close in a role like this, you're almost begging for some over the top theatrics. But Close delights, instead, by grounding this potential caricature and pulls off a riveting and realistic performance.

This is in contrast to Elizabeth Banks, whose portrayal of Diana's daughter, Isabel, is dry, simplistic and not half as artful as the performances seen in Closer. One critic compared this film about modern relationships to Mike Nichols'unforgiving drama about the same thing. Heights, however, suffers, with a couple of wimpy characters who don't pull their weight. The problem isn't so much Banks, as it is the script. The character Isabel is a little bit too written. She is the stereotype of a young, New York, professional: a photographer who graduated from Yale, smokes, but is trying to quit, cohabitates with a young lawyer fiancée (James Marsden) in a Manhattan apartment, dreams of shooting for the Times, has an actress for a mother and is having second thoughts about her Manhattan wedding. It's all very New York and looks like fertile ground for character development but, as it turns out, it's all very uninspired.

If the film smacks of its stage play routes anywhere, it's in its representation of Isabel, not in the thick stage references in Close's scenes. Isabel is a walking character description who only needs to glance in the mirror to remind herself of what a wicked bore she is supposed to be. Banks can play insipid to perfection, but one wonders if someone else might have added a little more nuance and life to the cardboard cut-out writer Amy Fox and director Chris Terrio shafted her with. Also, why should we care about such an empty navel-gazing soul? The same goes for John Light's character, the journalist who keeps pestering Marsden and Banks about skeletons, and other things, in the closet.

Yes - about half-way through "Heights," it becomes clear that resolutions to the interweaving plots are all going to focus on Isabel and her fiancée, which is a disappointing turn of events because that particular character is so lackluster. I would've preferred it if the spotlight fell more on the enigmatic Jesse Bradford, the pitch perfect Isabella Rossellini or Glenn Close. The only thing about Banks's performance that really shines is her hair. Prettiness simply doesn't cut it, though. Not in this film, which is trying to be the opposite of superficial. "Heights" is a good effort, but the best thing about the film might be the shots of New York City, which are gritty and gorgeous as always.

Official Site: http://www.sonyclassics.com/heights/

Copyright (c) 2005 by Lauren Simpson