Eddie Murphy sews his mouth shut

A THOUSAND WORDS (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When Eddie Murphy lets loose like a raging motormouth with words spoken at roughly 100 words a minute, he is unparalleled in his quick, caffeinated energy. Murphy also has the presence of a real actor, able to say much without actually speaking. The list of quiet, restrained moments in his ouevre are numerous. "A Thousand Words" has a great comic premise - each time Murphy speaks, a leaf falls from a tree and when they all shed, he dies. But this movie is one of those cases where Murphy strains too hard to keep up the momentum and that is thanks to a screenplay that doesn't play fair with the rules.

Murphy is Jack McCall, a greedy literary agent who has no time to wait in line at Starbucks for a coffee (he feigns a call about his wife in labor with twins). At work, he treats his assistant with minor meanness (let's say it is hardly a tenth of what Kevin Spacey's truly vile character did in "Swimming with Sharks"). Jack is married to Caroline (Kerry Washington) and they have a son together - she wants to move to a bigger house that doesn't resemble a bachelor pad.

Meanwhile, Jack decides to publish and make a mint out of an Indian guru's book that is only five pages long. Sensing a lack of spirituality in Jack, I had initially thought that the guru planted a bodhi tree in Jack's backyard, hence the main plot about each leaf dropping after every word is said by Jack. Apparently not. The tree just emerges from the ground and the guru has no idea how it happened. Eh. And Jack can't even write anything down because a leaf will fall out of the tree after every word that is written. Double eh. See what I mean by unfair? And to complicate matters, Jack can't form a single sentence, and why not? He has 1000 words at his disposal - can't he chuck 500 words out and make his wife believe that he loves her, especially during an S&M tryst at a hotel? She begs him to tell her his true feelings and he can't or won't - that just tries my patience.

I did not hate "A Thousand Words" unlike the critics who had a field day with it. For my Eddie Murphy experiences (exempting "Pluto Nash" which I never had the pleasure), "Best Defense" is possibly his worst and "Harlem Nights," his most savagely unfunny. This movie never fully exploits its premise and never goes the extra mile. In short, it doesn't give Murphy much of a chance to shine. "A Thousand Words" is yet another movie about a soulless, greedy, spiritually bankrupt guy who discovers money isn't everything and family is all he needs. However, Jack is hardly that greedy or that soulless, and he doesn't seem like a bad guy before all the madness sets in. Jack is a nice guy with some issues. Is that what we expect from an Eddie Murphy movie nowadays?

Go easy on this Oz tale

THE WIZ (1978)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I've come across very few people who had any positive feelings towards Sidney Lumet's "The Wiz." L. Frank Baum's novel has been transposed to late 1970's New York City with a suitably urban theme and lots of elaborate disco-type musical numbers and a thirty-something Diana Ross as a 24-year-old Dorothy who happens to be a Harlem schoolteacher. Yeah, it lacks the whimsy of the 1939 classic but it has its own infectious rhythms and its own slant on perhaps the most famous fantasy of all time. It dares to be different and that is a plus.

In this unique version of "The Wizard of Oz," Dorothy runs after her dog, Toto, in a blizzard where a tornado happens to cross her path. She ends up in Oz except it is New York City yet strangely underpopulated and flashier. The Scarecrow (Michael Jackson) is teased by vultures. The Cowardly Lion (Ted Ross) is at first a statue outside the New York Public Library. The Tin Man (Nipsy Russell) just needs a heart. Oz the Powerful (Richard Pryor) lives in one of the top floors of the World Trade Center/Emerald City that has its own TV media crew direct from the Oz channel. The flying monkeys are now revolting creatures that ride on motorcycles. Garbage cans come alive with snapping jaws. Lena Horne has a wonderfully magic moment as Glinda the Good. And there is Evil Evillene (Mabel King) who is royally pissed that her sister was killed by Dorothy, accidental or not.

"The Wiz" was one of the last films to have a completely black cast after the blaxploitation era, at least for a while. The film was a financial and critical disaster and it also marked Diana Ross's last role in a film. What a shame. It doesn't hold a candle to its 1939 counterpart but 'The Wiz" is far from being the dreary experience that critics claimed it was. It is upbeat in tone and contains its share of dazzling musical sequences and resplendent stage design and visual effects. Of course, my favorite number would be "Ease on Down the Road" with Michael Jackson pulling out all the stops in a musical performance that is probably the most memorable and uplifting. I also love the graffiti people that come out of the walls and do a number, or the rotating colorful outfits of the dancers in Emerald City. There is also a rousing number by Mabel King as she sings "Don't Nobody Bring Me No Bad News."

"The Wiz" is perfectly fitting and admirable entertainment but it does have its snail-paced moments that threaten the overall musical's jagged rhythms. At 2 hours and 13 minutes, the movie does wear out its welcome especially after Pryor's appearance where he looks a little too withdrawn (compared to Frank Morgan's Oz in the original, I wonder who is more depressed in this movie, Oz or Dorothy?) Diana Ross, however, is engaging throughout (who sadly only appeared in a couple of TV movies since), appearing rather unglamorous that suits her role as an innocent who is astounded by this new world that mirrors her own. I did miss the significance of the opening scenes where she is clearly unhappy. We understood the reasons behind Judy Garland's Dorothy in the bare wasteland of sepia-toned Kansas, the kidnapping of her dog, etc. But we miss any understanding of this Dorothy's sorrow from the beginning - she finds herself at the end by clicking on her heels and heading home. But does she want to be there? Or does she miss being south of 125th street?

I still hope "The Wiz" can have a renewed lease in light of the rekindled interest of musicals in general. Who wouldn't want to ease on down the road again?

Merida could be a fitting Katniss Everdeen ally

BRAVE (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Brave" is one of the most pleasurable, romantic and charming Disney films I've seen in quite some time. I'll go further - it is a sumptuous fantasy with a heroine we can root for and believe in. Sound hokey to cynics out there? Read further.

Merida (voiced by Kelly McDonald) is a long curly-red-haired girl who is also an expert archer. She is daughter of the strict Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson) and the carefree and boisterous King Fergus (voiced by Billy Connolly) who both hope to have their feisty daughter married to a prospective suitor from one of the clans of Macintosh, MacGuffin and Dingwall. An archery contest will prove who can hit the bullseye and marry Merida but Merida will have none of that. She is a free spirit who wants to follow her heart's desire. Merida loves to ride horses, shoot arrows, and watch the waterfalls.

She doesn't see eye to eye with her mother - so much so that Merida visits a witch and puts a spell on her mother to persuade her to not force her daughter into marriage. Queen Elinor has become a bear (not quite what Merida had in mind) and King Fergus (who had lost his leg while fighting a bear) is ready for another confrontation, unaware his wife is an oversized animal.

The film had me entranced from its beautifully orchestrated opening shot of the Scottish Highlands - it is so richly detailed and so intoxicating to watch that Pixar outdoes itself. The animation is amazingly gorgeous, from the lush greens of the countryside to the cascading rivers, to the foggy forest where will-o'-the-wisps reside in bluish disappearing streaks, to the scary bears and scarier-looking crones. Of course, as always, all this would make a sweet empty visual treat if not for the characters who are believable and come alive in bewitching ways.

Merida is full of sass, as is her father. The mother learns to see that her daughter is more worthy and brave than she had thought. One scene in particular has Elinor as the bear witnessing how her daughter makes the warring clans see how marriage should not be arranged and seeks to break an ancient tradition - it is a cliched moment to be sure but it is given a touch of humor (Elinor uses charades to guide her daughter) and depicts an emotional truth in Merida.

"Brave" is Pixar's first fairy tale and uses elements of Hans Christian Andersen and Brothers Grimm to tell its story (it is also Pixar's first attempt to have a female lead headlining their movie). Some critics found the plot underwhelming but it had me hooked, though I wasn't surprised by how it ended - the quixotic journey of getting there is what makes it so transfixing. "Brave" has got magic, fantasy, a stunning conclusion, some terrific gags involving Merida's younger, pie-loving brothers, and a brave heroine whom I won't soon forget - she has as much pluck and determination as Katniss Everdeen from "The Hunger Games." More young female types like this should be encouraged. "Brave" is perfect entertainment for kids and adults without a false moment in its 93-minute running time. Bravo!

A Banal Risk

GENUINE RISK (1990)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Genuine Risk" is a train wreck of a film, dependent on implausible coincidences and rampant gunfire than on building the mood of a genuine film noir. The opening has that promise and, for a while, we lurch along noir tropes such as the typical femme fatale, the screwed-up antihero who needs a job, the threatening big boss, and so on. But the filmmakers then decide to chuck it all to the demands of an overwrought melodrama. To end a noir picture with a car chase is to underestimate the audience.

There is the gambler and petty thief, Henry (Peter Berg) who always bets big and always loses. He lives in a small apartment above the town bar in Anywhere, USA. One night while playing pool, Henry sets his eyes on a mysterious woman (Michelle Johnson), simply known in the credits as the Girl, seen sitting at the bar (the kind of low-rent bar where a glamorous woman has no place). He asks her to his room for a free drink, and they almost have sex until her beeper sounds off. Henry has a beeper as well when he is offered by his childhood friend, Cowboy Jack (M.K. Harris), a job with the mob kingpin Paul Hellwart (Terence Stamp). Henry doesn't want the job, knowing it involves violence, but he takes it anyway. Eventually, we are privy to a bloody shootout, a fistfight involving a jockey, more sex, more bloody shootouts, etc.

The overall effect is not nauseating since the violence is punctual and explosive, but what is the point? Same with the sex scenes - Peter Berg and Michelle Johnson are attractive looking but they are barely believable as a pair of lovers. There is no real tension or sense of peril since the Girl and Hellwart's intentions are never clear - she is Hellwart's moll and carries a beeper and that is all we learn about her. As for Hellwart, we just learn he is mean, abusive and a former 60's British pop star! This thin material is written by Kurt Voss (who also directed), who wrote a similarly wafer-thin noir called "Delusion."

Most of "Genuine Risk" is superficial and glossy yet Terence Stamp rises above the material as the icy Hellwart. He has a great line about women and racetracks: "A racetrack is like a woman...a man weathers so much banality in pursuit of the occasional orgasmic moment." A great line in a movie full of cliched, banal line readings, uni-dimensional characters and the occasional orgasmic moment.

Enid sees ghosts

GHOST WORLD (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
One of the ten best films of the 2000 decade

(Original review from August, 2001)

It is rare to see a film that transports and moves me in such a way as to be breathtaking. A film that leaves me so ecstatic and excited by cinema all over again - a sublime experience in an era of dumbed-down, mediocre pictures. For the 1980's, "The Breakfast Club" was the ultimate statement about teenagers in high school. For the 1990's teen way of life, perhaps something like "American Beauty" stands as definitive about how teenagers think and talk nowadays (unless you prefer "American Pie"). But a defining statement of the world today is clearly felt in "Ghost World," an unparalleled masterpiece of pop culture attitudes and more specifically, teenage alienation and discomfort in an era of Internet hype and media hogwash. I was planning on seeing Kevin Smith's latest the following day but I just couldn't. After seeing "Ghost World," you may not want to see anything else for a few days since it gets under your skin so thoroughly that you will feel compelled to buy the graphic novel from which the film is based on or listen to the soundtrack or both. It is that good.

Based on the comic book by Daniel Clownes, "Ghost World" is a bleak view of America today in an suburban town where 50's retro diners coexist with politically correct art teachers. It is also a world of lonely, miserable people who can't help being where they are in their station in life. Enid (Thora Birch) is the offbeat, downbeat, ironic, contradictory, sarcastic teenager who has just graduated from high school. Her best friend, Rebecca (Scarlett Johansson), has also graduated and is relieved. Their relief does not translate to collegiate futures - they have their own plans. Enid and Rebecca plan to work full-time jobs and rent an apartment and basically make ironic statements on people who surround their field of vision. Enid not only spouts ironic commentary, she lives by it. She hates any and everything except for her friend Rebecca. She sees a bald man and his wife at a cafe and immediately suspects they are Satanists. Both Enid and Rebecca decide to spend their time gazing and talking. One day, Enid responds to a personal ad where some guy had seen a blonde and felt they shared something special. Enid pretends to be the blonde and calls for a date. The guy, Seymour (Steve Buscemi), comes to one of those 50's retro diners to meet the blonde, who is of course not present. But something curious happens - Enid follows Seymour around and begins to like the fact that he is representative of everything she doesn't hate. He is a dork in her estimation but he also loves to collect 78 rpm records of old blues singers. More importantly, Enid can relate to Seymour's loneliness.

Enid's home life is not pretty. Her father (Bob Balaban) eats jelly with relish and dates a woman she hates. He does try to support his daughter but she is unresponsive and selfish. Enid lives in her own fantasy world of irony and of dancing to Indian music - she does not see that she alienates people by hiding or being cleverly ironic. After alienating even Rebecca and Seymour, Enid feels lost - a lost soul in search of her inner self. "I don't know what I am doing," says Enid at one point and that statement sums up her life. If Enid hates any and everything and can't commit to a job, then where is her station in life? Can it be with the summer art class where she has to contend with a politically correct art teacher? Can it be the old man who waits for a bus that never comes? Who can Enid relate to now if she can't hold on to her own friends?

"Ghost World" is not likely to appeal to the same teenagers who love "American Pie" and its score of imitations. After all, Enid's preoccupation in life is not sex - she would like to belong to something but she is too honest in this media age to belong to anything she doesn't already despise. The same is true of Seymour who is offended by shouting radio deejays and modern blues songs. He may feel that times are better but he is still rooted in the past, particularly with offensive minstrel ads and old blues songs. But he is a loner too and despises society yet works for a corporation to support himself and his collection of 78's.

Thora Birch encapsulates the modern alienated and alienating teenager perfectly in Enid. She is a wonder to watch as she unfurls her commentary on screen with winking nuances and explosive fierceness, always wearing horn-rimmed glasses. Look at the scene in a zine shop where she dresses up in original punk rock clothes, combat boots and green hair and claims her fashion statement as irony - none of the clerks in the store see it that way. Birch screams, crackles, hollers, whispers, laughs and cries and she is sarcastic, not to mention touching in her weaker states where she starts to lose what she had. It is a brave, risky performance by Birch that embellishes the promise she showed in "American Beauty."

Also noteworthy is Scarlett Johansson as Rebecca, also ironic in her own way but also looking ahead in the future - she does not wish to stay in the same town forever. Her dry, low monotone voice is in direct contrast to Birch's occasionally high-pitched delivery. Johansson first came to prominence in the sweet film "Manny and Lo" and here, she is maturing into a fine actress.

Finally, there is Steve Buscemi in one of his best roles as the lonesome Seymour. He connects with Enid but also wants to move on in his own station in life. The tragedy of his character is that he can't despite trying to. Buscemi is as restrained as ever and gives measured poignancy to Seymour's downfall.

"Ghost World" is directed by Terry Zwigoff, who helmed the fabulous, disturbing documentary "Crumb" a few years go (there's even a nod to Crumb's rock band). This is Zwigoff's first non-documentary film and it is a great, poetic masterwork - his restraint and static camera style are perfect for the observations of this ghostly world as seen through Enid's eyes. And the ambiguous ending will haunt you for days as to where Enid's future lies. It is as moving and poetic as any film you will see this year.

Eric Binford fades from memory

FADE TO BLACK (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2002)

A scrawny, unlikable weakling is an unlikely character lead in a movie but "Fade to Black" is one of those low-budget stinkers that tries a little too hard to be clever and ends up delivering nada in return.

Dennis Christopher ("Breaking Away") is the unlikable, scrawny weakling, Eric Binford, who loves movies more than life itself. He believes movies are life and among his favorites are "White Heat," "Kiss of Death" and anything with Marilyn Monroe. Eric works at a film studio handling film reels, and does the job badly. Everyone at work hates the kid including his boss. Eric lives at home with his aunt who is in a wheelchair, watches old movies all night and assumes the identities of famous characters in real life. Eric's identity crisis goes a little too far as he begins killing people in various disguises, including Count Dracula, Hopalong Cassidy, the Mummy, and so on. Meanwhile, a coke-sniffing psychiatrist (laughably played by Tim Thomerson) feels that the kid is a victim of society and can be helped. This conceit is nothing new and very popular nowadays in light of recent crime cases involving Colombine high school and John Grisham's uncle killed by hallucinating teens inspired by "Natural Born Killers ," but I digress.

"Fade to Black" has a terrific idea defeated by the most unlikable, unpleasant characters to surface in a movie in a long time. No one emits the slightest care in the world about anything and that makes it harder to care about them. Even Eric's aunt is unsympathetic and loud. Only Linda Kerridge as a Marilyn Monroe lookalike who takes a liking to Eric is borderline normal, but what does she find appealing in Eric?

The filmmaking is amateurish and the cinematography is badly photographed to the point where scenes are so dark that I had trouble figuring what was happening. I am assuming the filmmakers were aiming for a realistic documentary look in the style of George Romero's "Martin" but it hardly meshes with the underdeveloped story and characters. A climax at a movie theater is as ludicrous and laughable a climax as I have seen in a long time, and I thought "Dracula vs. Frankenstein" was bad.

"Fade to Black" seems to have been made for people who hate movies. In that spirit, it fades from memory long before it is over.

Footnote: Look for an early appearance by Mickey Rourke as a studio employee who knows everything about "Casablanca" except the full name of Humphrey Bogart's character.

1950's swathed in Nostalgia

BOOK OF LOVE (1990)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The Fifties remains an era I am always fascinated by. I think the main reason is because it only seemed so innocent and innocuous but, underneath, there might have been what one Beatnik poet referred to as "intense psychic pain" due to the missile crisis and other factors at that time. Yet movies like "Book of Love" insist that the fifties was an era of innocence and nothing more. Isn't every era innocent?

Jack Twiller (Chris Young) is the new kid on the block. He looks smart, is well-dressed, and takes up dancing lessons thanks to his doting mother. His buddies are Crutch (the always dependable Keith Coogan) and Floyd (James Cameron Mitchell), who looks like a Beatnik poet. They spend their time getting inebriated, taking more dance lessons, driving around and generally goofing off, not to mention lip-synching to "Earth Angel."

Jack is head-over-heels in love with the blond, teasing, beaming Lily (Josie Bissett), who is of course dating a school bully named Angelo (Beau Dremann). Jack wants to take Lily to the school prom, but finds himself ironically asking Gina (Tricia Leigh Fisher), the switchblade sister of the school who is also Angelo's sister, to the prom.

I first saw "Book of Love" back in 1990 with a date and found it funny and pleasing. Seeing it again recently, I found it lesser in quality than I had thought. As directed by Bob Shaye (president of New Line Cinema, who never directed another film since), it is cloying and a little too precious. There are lots of visual gags, like the bodybuilder who emerges from those famous ads to persuade Jack to lift weights, but some of it gets trite after a while. Jack is never a fully developed character - his biggest scene is when he apes Jimmy Dean in "East of Eden." I would have liked to learn more about him as an individual, and why he had such aspirations to become a writer. His buddies are fun to watch but are given little screen time to do anything other than sing and goof off. Ditto the underused Tricia Leigh Fisher as Gina, a bad girl who suddenly shows a sympathetic side. It is hard to see the attraction between Jack and Gina and her tough-girl tomboy image is given meager screen time to make any kind of impression.

There are bookends to "Book of Love" with an older Jack (played by Michael McKean) reminiscing while looking at his high-school yearbook. But this is no "American Graffitti" or "Diner." "Book of Love" safely assumes it is enough to be nostalgic.

Batman Rises to the Occasion

THE DARK KNIGHT RISES (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 I guess I was wrong. The trailer for "The Dark Knight Rises" rubbed me the wrong way. I was dismayed by what was seemingly a comic-book movie that looked like "The Departed" or any of Sidney Lumet's cop pictures. I was also underwhelmed by the casting of Anne Hathaway as Catwoman and thought to myself, after the stunning conclusion of "The Dark Knight," there was no place to go. Even director Christopher Nolan stated as such. But I do believe that seeing the final product is believing and "The Dark Knight Rises" is as great as the 2008 sequel and closer in spirit to "Batman Begins," the finest Batman film ever made. What "Rises" does is bring us closer to Bruce Wayne, closer than ever before and that is a major plus.
 

This sequel takes place eight years after the debacle involving the murder of attorney Harvey Dent by the Joker, a crime mistakenly attributed to Batman. Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has been in hiding at Wayne Manor all this time, walking around with a beard and a cane and eroding like some pale imitation of Howard Hughes. The public has not seen him or the Dark Knight but Bruce can't let go of the tragedy of his girlfriend's death, Rachel Dawes (played in the last sequel by Maggie Gyllenhaal). It has kept the billionaire playboy as insular as ever. His dutiful servant, Alfred (Michael Caine), is worried for him. When Selina Kyle aka The Cat (Anne Hathaway, a better-than-expected and puurr-fect performance) slips in a maid's uniform and gets a sample of Wayne's fingerprints, it breaks Bruce and makes him confront Gotham City and all its denizens. When the muscular Bane (brilliantly played by Tom Hardy) holds Gotham hostage by blowing up football fields, killing Wall Street brokers, trapping thousands of police officers underground and threatening to blow up the city with a fusion reactor converted into a nuclear bomb, Bruce comes out of his shell and dons the rubber suit. However, Bane, the masked villain who inhales analgesic gas to keep himself alive and free of pain, is a tortured, pained individual who either wants to get rid of the ruling classes or blow up the city or both. Batman never had to face this much anarchy.
 
"The Dark Knight Rises" juggles a lot of characters and perilous situations with ease, thanks to writer-director Christopher Nolan. I haven't mentioned the return of Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) where his police record comes under scrutiny; Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a headstrong police detective who believes Bruce Wayne and Batman are one and the same; Marion Cotillard as Miranda who has a vested interested in Wayne's fusion reactor and becomes his love interest, and returnee Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox who provides Bruce with all the high-tech weaponry.  All the characters come together and have their own share of practically equal screen time that allows their roles to breathe without the constant bombardment of explosions. When the action does set in, it is as dazzling and as sweeping as ever before. The final hour of the film supplies enough dramatic moments amidst an imminent terrorist bombing and jaw-dropping action that supersedes anything you might find in any current superhero action flick.
 
Bruce Wayne's attempts to come to terms with being a redemptive hero in the Gotham city crisis is this movie's highlight. When dumped into a prison by Bane which precious few humans could ever escape from, Wayne finds his own inner strength to preserve what he has left to give to Gotham. This is where Christian Bale really brings his Bruce and Batman character to full fruition - it is astoundingly nuanced and formidable acting that is resplendent in its authority.  It is what was missing in "The Dark Knight," a great movie that was resolutely about a clown-faced terrorist who beat Batman with piercing words. "Rises" reestablishes Batman as our nocturnal hero, our own dark knight whom we can root for all over again. Nolan has closed out one of the most fascinating, ambitious and serious-minded comic-book films ever with a delectable coda and a stirring climax. The Bat Signal shines brighter than ever.
 
Footnote: "Rises" did face controversy in July with the unfortunate Aurora, Colorado shootings that mirrored, intentionally or not, the dreary world of Christopher Nolan's own revisionist take on the DC hero. I have written about this and having seen the film, I was wrong to think that the world of the movie, which I had not seen at the time, was the same as our world. Nolan deals with real-life, 9/11 pre-occupations and terroristic activities, in addition to post-Bush paranoia. With "Rises," he exploits Occupy Wall Street paranoia and anger. None of this has anything to do with the Aurora shooting because in the end, despite such doses of 9/11 reality, this is only a Batman movie at heart and it never sides with the "liberating" efforts enforced by Bane.

20-minute time-travel warning

RETROACTIVE (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 

Time-travel is such a fanciful fantasy plagued with so many intricate problems and paradoxes that it might not be worth the trouble. In the case with "Retroactive," the issue is stopping not just one murder but several murders. Good luck with that when you got a 20 minute jump start.

Karen (Kylie Travis), a psychotherapist, has car trouble in the middle of the desert. She is helped by Frank, a boisterous and very rough Texan (Jim Belushi) who treats his wife, Rayanne (Shannon Whirry), like garbage. Karen wants a ride to get a mechanic, but Frank has other ideas and one of them involves murder. Rayanne is shot in the head and Karen runs into a conveniently located government facility where a scientist named Brian (Frank Whaley) is conducting a time-travel experiment with mice thanks to a particle accelerator. Can Karen use the experiment to prevent the killing of Frank's wife?

"Retroactive" has a few lapses in time-travel logic, if such a thing even exists. How can Brian prepare a videotape of himself and have it be viewed once he goes back in time, approximately ten minutes before he kills a mouse (DO NOT ASK!)? The movie's internal logic makes no sense because the movie never establishes that alternate timelines coexist or merge. So when Karen keeps going back 10 or 20 minutes before Rayanne's murder, no other action committed by Karen remains in the future timeline she keeps returning to, which means there are alternating timelines. Whew!

"Retroactive" is an action thriller with a sci-fi concept but the movie manifests as nothing more than a series of endless shootings. Karen shoots at Frank and practically misses every time. Frank shoots back, is thrown through glass partitions, drives like a maniac and keeps shooting. Shooting after shooting after shooting - what an exhausting time travel cycle that must be to return to. The movie becomes a wearying chore to sit through and lacks any psychological aspects or fun character types (a family in a stationwagon and M. Emmett Walsh's nervous impulse with, again, the trigger of a gun is as sharp a character definition as you will get). The movie never lets us in on Travis's Karen, the protagonist we are supposed to root for - she got into some haywired mess in the past but it is barely dealt with. Jim Belushi's Frank is a one-dimensional side-burned psycho who keeps getting pounded and shot at but he is nothing more than a cartoonish Terminator on the loose. Whirry's Rayanne is a looker but precious little is divulged about her aside from being physically abused by Frank. I wish I could go back in time and say something different but "Retroactive" is a numbing bore.

Jennifer Lopez dies in the first ten minutes!

JERSEY GIRL (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Has director Kevin Smith gone soft on us? The king of "dick and fart jokes" has sold out to the corporate world of Miramax by making a film that is no different from the average romantic comedy? No, it is not so. Besides, unless you are unaware of Kevin Smith's work, he is revisiting the kinder, gentler workings of his inner "Chasing Amy."

Ben Affleck is Ollie Trinke, a hotheaded Manhattan publicist who is so cocksure of himself that he is certain Will Smith will never be a movie star and George Michael is definitely into women (the story begins in 1996). He is married to Gertrude (Jennifer Lopez), who is quite emotional since she is pregnant. The problem is that Ollie can't make it to the Lamaze classes on time - will he choose to work long hours or will he try to spend more time with his family? As you probably know, Gertrude dies in the first ten minutes of this film while giving birth to their baby daughter. To make matters worse, Ollie has lost his job after decrying the press and Will Smith's stature. So now Ollie and his daughter move into his dad's house in Highlands, New Jersey. Seven years pass, and now his daughter, Gertie (Raquel Castro), is a happy-go-lucky kid in Catholic school. Ollie now works for the public works department, along with his dad, Bart (played as straight-as-an-arrow by George Carlin). Ollie still dreams of working as a publicist, and continues attending interviews only to be rejected. His life changes when he meets a cute-as-a-button video store clerk, Maya (Liv Tyler), who is doing research for a pornography study.

Okay, don't get me started. This does not sound like Kevin Smith material at all. No kidding. And yet, it is a personal story for writer-director Smith who has been raising his own daughter, Harley Quinn (who I think shows up in a cameo). Even though this is the View Askew Universe to some degree, there is no Jay or Silent Bob on display here. No Quik Stop cameo, no nothing. Only Jason Lee and Matt Damon have brief funny cameos. This is the adult Kevin Smith, the man who gave us one of the best romantic comedies of the 90's, "Chasing Amy." Is this film as good? Not quite, but no failure either.

My main problem with "Jersey Girl" is that it aims for well-traveled cliches and an incessant cuteness that is more harmful than disarming. That is not to say that every scene is forced or too cutesy, but its level of occasional cuteness is not what I would expect from Smith. A highly contrived finale involving a school play version of "Sweeney Todd" and an aghast audience is pushing the limits of cuteness, even for Smith. The movie follows the traditional formula of how a dad learns to love his kid and spend time with her, as opposed to being sucked up by the corporate world of media publicity (Living in Manhattan is seen as a sin as opposed to the suburbs of Jersey). This is tired nonsense that has more resonance in Hallmark television, not in a Kevin Smith flick. I mean, we are talking about a director whose first film, "Clerks," was so potty-mouthed that it almost earned an NC-17 rating.

And yet, there are pluses to "Jersey Girl." Jennifer Lopez, in an opening sequence I call "Jennifer Lopez Dies in the First Ten Minutes," is quite lovely and understated, showing how her daughter will acquire her mother's personality. Ben Affleck finally gives us a nicely modulated, restrained performance as Ollie (though his crying is a bit overdone). I also like Raquel Castro as Gertie, the girl who loves "Dirty Dancing" and the musical "Cats" (though these jokes get old). There is also George Carlin, once again dialing down his persona for some humorous moments. Liv Tyler is stunning in every way as Maya - I like her smiles preceded by shrugging her shoulders. Still, Tyler is underused, and one wishes she had more to say and do. Mr. Kevin Smith, please work with Liv Tyler again and make her the star of your next film.

There are admirable qualities to "Jersey Girl." The film is often quite funny and the performances are engaging. I just sense that the real Kevin Smith was dialing himself down for a PG-13 rating in order to be more accessible. I still love the raunchy Smith who chased Amy and cavorted with the likes of Jay and Silent Bob, but that is just me.

Dude, this pot is toast

BONGWATER (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

You could call "Bongwater" a precursor to the "Tenacious D" movie considering the level of pot smoked and the few trippy montages in it, and the fact that Jack Black and his partner, Kyle Gass, appear in this movie. Other than that, despite some level of inspired new form of trippiness, "Bongwater" fails to rise as any sort of comedy-drama.

Luke Wilson, one of my favorite modern unsung actors, is a Portland, Oregon pot dealer who spends his time smoking his bong, sleeping, hanging out with friends, smoking some more and taking calls for selling the proverbial weed. In his life enters Alicia Witt, who becomes entranced by Wilson's paintings and introduces him to an art dealer (Brittany Murphy) who wants nothing more than giddy sex. Then we shift to Witt leaving Wilson for the Big Apple, just after inadvertently burning down Wilson's house, and her encounters with a paranoid sociopath (Jamie Kennedy), some guy who lives underground (Scott Caan), and the ugly world of cocaine parties!

Somehow, this middle section with Alicia Witt doesn't gel with Wilson's lonely life in Portland, Oregon, amongst his gay friends. It seems the film is more about Witt's search for her identity than Wilson's, though Wilson's character is the one I was drawn to. We also get a nearly unwatchable sequence with Jack Black as a jolly pot farmer and some trippy points-of-view shots, not to mention Patricia Wettig as Wilson's dead mother. Although Black brings a jolt of energy to the proceedings, this section is bogged down by nothingness, an empty void no less, and Brittany Murphy's grating smile (sorry, it does get on my nerves). Maybe the movie's own inertness is its point but an inert state of being was handled with far more savviness in Jim Jarmusch's "Stranger Than Paradise."

The movie finds its spirit in those early Portland scenes, especially a tender moment where Wilson plays footsie with Witt. Witt is also a believer in UFO's and other paranormal activities, though the movie short-shrifts through all the delectable dialogue in the beginning for a bigger message, but what is the message?

"Bongwater" never quite finds the identities of its characters and thus prove to be unengaging. Turns out Wilson doesn't care about his burned down house or much of anything else except for the darling Alicia Witt who treats him horribly from the start. All we are left with is a marijuana haze, a UFO, a gay party where Andy Dick gets to strut his stuff, and nothing more.

Don't go back in time

TIMERIDER: THE ADVENTURE OF LYLE SWANN (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The name Timerider refers to a time-travel device in the middle of the desert. It is put to use but unfortunately, a motorcycle rider from the Baja 100 race has inadvertently crossed its path and been sent back to the Old West, circa 1870's. Great idea, horrible execution of the material.

Fred Ward is Lyle Swann (not the catchiest of names), the motorcycle rider who has no idea he is in the Old West. Outside of a pack of cowboys led by the scenery-chewing Peter Coyote (in what may be his sole villain role), the lack of phones, a buxom Belinda Bauer who doesn't take too long before she removes her clothes, it all looks the same as the present. Add to the cast a listless, taciturn L.Q. Jones, himself a veteran of westerns, and Ed Lauter as a priest and we got the makings of a cinematic disaster. Fred Ward looks too out of place as the clueless hero, Bauer is there to show some flesh and look helpless as she is tied to a bed and little else, and Coyote and most of the cast overact to the hilt.

After Lyle finds himself in the Old West, we get a love scene and numerous shootouts that are badly staged and edited - they take over the last three-quarters of the movie and add nothing to the story outside of reminding us that the Old West was a stomping ground for wild and crazy trigger-happy cowboys.

There is one good scene where Peter Coyote wants that motorcycle, referred to as the "machine," and he finally gets a hold of it. Coyote tries to start it up and rides it, only to fall on his bum. Other than that, "Timerider" is a snore-inducing and highly indifferent picture that bears some of the nifty ideas of time travel without realizing them. There is no fun to be had here and with a less than engaging hero and cumbersome acting by all involved, no one to root for either. A twist of fate at the end of the film lends some gravitas but you'll forget about it the next day.

Accommodate the Lone Ranger with silver

THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The Lone Ranger tale carries a charge of excitement and adventure. When Clayton Moore played the quintessential western hero, he added a sense of fun to it - he was as engaged as we were. 1981's big-screen adaptation of the Lone Ranger is mystifyingly mediocre and carries no sense of fun at all, thanks to a stoic lead actor.

Klinton Spilsbury plays John Reid, an attorney (a major change in the Lone Ranger canon) who arrives at a dusty Western town called Del Rio to help his brother, a Texas Ranger (John Bennett Perry), deal with the evil, notorious Butch Cavendish (Christopher Lloyd). Cavendish had killed the brothers' parents when they were kids (John had saved the life of young Tonto back then as well). The memory of this event lingers no doubt as it leads to John and his brother joining a posse to stop Butch. A massacre ensues where John is the sole survivor. Tonto finds him, nurses him back to health, teaches him how to fire a gun (apparently using silver bullets makes someone into an expert marksman), and gets him a horse named Silver (a wild horse John learns to ride fairly quickly, albeit in slow-motion). John makes a pledge for revenge and suddenly he's got the iconic mask and we all go in unison, "Hi Yo, Silver." Well, maybe not all of us will cheer.

This was Spilsbury's only film role yet I can't fathom the casting of such an unremarkable actor - having your voice dubbed by James Keach must not help either. Spilsbury carries no real charisma or presence so when he puts the mask on, we can only giggle despite the always effective use of the William Tell Overture. Michael Horse does look the part as Tonto but he is almost as bland as Spilsbury. Added to the mix is the always reliable Jason Robards as President Ulysses S. Grant whose role is severly limited. "Back to the Future" fans might be tickled with laughter when Christopher Lloyd's one-dimensional Butch presents a mock-up of a train track route where he hopes to kidnap the President - it looks suspiciously like the same mock-up we see in "Back to the Future Part III," also set in the Old West and starring Lloyd. Hmmm, I wonder if Lloyd did some time-traveling in his dusty old Delorean.

I am not a stickler for having complete fidelity to the legend of the Lone Ranger as it was told back in the days of radio and TV serials. All I ask is that a film of the Lone Ranger have the spirit and the sense of adventure that we associate with the character. The makers of this film don't exactly have the right attitude and squander the film with far too much exposition and too little of everything else. The cinematography by Laslo Kovacs is stunning and some of the shootouts have a tinge of excitement. Still, with all due respect to a friend of mine from many years ago in New Mexico, editor Thomas Stanford (who won an Oscar for editing "West Side Story"), the film's pacing is off and rather clunky. Let's hope someday the Lone Ranger returns to the screen screaming "Hi Yo Silver" with a bang than with a whimper.

Romero's Limp Walking Dead

DAY OF THE DEAD (1985)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Day of the Dead" is considered the least of the "Night of the Living Dead" series and, though it is no great shakes, it has its fill of claustrophobic zombie thrills that have made the first two "Dead" film hallmarks of the genre. Yes, it does lose its marbles and has no real human interest in its characters but the feeling of claustrophobia, a major component of these pictures, is omnipresent.

This time, the zombies have taken over America, parading throughout every town. An underground facility, housed by military men and scientists, have captured some of these zombies. The intention of the scientists is to discover what makes these zombies tick - why do they feel the craving to eat humans? One doctor (always covered in blood-splattered lab coats) is particularly intrigued by one zombie, whom he names Bub (Howard Sherman). Bub learns to look at the pages of a Stephen King book and put on headphones so he can listen to a Sony walkman! Although this subplot merits some interest, director George Romero seems less interested in the ironies present with a human using a zombie as a guinea pig.

Instead Romero focuses on some truly dull stereotypes who simply mark time. The head of the decreasing military group is tough-guy Rhodes (Joseph Pilato), who feels it is a waste of time to experiment with these zombies - just shoot them all in the head. He also wishes to kill Sarah (Lori Cardille), a female scientist, if she does not comply with his orders. Sarah hopes that they can discover some cure, especially with any human that gets bitten, but it is a hopeless cause. And so most of "Day of the Dead" focuses on the strategies between the doctors and the macho military types until we get our money's worth with a typically gory last half-hour where all the zombies chomp their way through most of the cast.

"Day of the Dead" is not much fun to sit through nor are the characters very appealing. Yet the movie has the claustrophobic atmosphere of the original film, essentially an enclosed setting where there is no escape. In the original "Dead" film, it was an abandoned house in the middle of the countryside. In the numbing "Dawn of the Dead," it was a huge shopping mall. Here, the underground caverns enhance the creep factor. It's just that I barely cared for any of the people occupying those caverns.

A MEAN Sevauri

DAY OF THE DEAD (2008)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Before anyone questions my positive rating of the remake of a George Romero zombie spectacle, let me clarify my view on zombies. I love Romero's early "Dead" series, including "Night of the Living Dead," the granddaddy of all zombie films and the scariest. I also enjoyed Zac Snyder's fast-paced and quite scary remake of "Dawn of the Dead," which means that, yes, I do find zombies running after your brains quite scary and nightmarish. The slow, snail pace that early zombies carried on, meaning walking and not running, is still frightening. Having said all that, this alleged remake of Romero's "Day of the Dead" is a better film all around, tighter and scarier and filled with a doomsday scenario that will seem dated to some but is no less relevant. Sacrilege, I know, but I was never a big fan of Romero's "Day of the Dead."

The movie begins with a mysterious flu-like virus (not the H1N1 type, I am afraid) that causes the military to quarantine the town where it has started. Yeah, it is a flu alright, the kind that kills you and then turns you into a zombie with truly ravaged, bubbly skin! Mena Sevauri may as well be called Meana Sevauri as a soldier who runs over her zombiefied mother without caring in the slightest! Ving Rhames appears briefly, sadly, as a soldier, I think, who becomes zombiefied (and does not do a reprise of the character he played in "Dawn of the Dead," probably because he was killed in the end credits). That leaves us with the host of "America's Got Talent," Nick Cannon, as a tough soldier who is eager to kill all the zombies as if they were playing a video game! Eventually, this all leads to a military base and a silo that echoes Romero's original. And I forgot to mention the unlikable radio host who is holed up in his control room, smoking his life away and babbling about how the government covers up such quarantines.

"Day of the Dead" has less than memorable characters overall, though I like Cannon and Sevauri who are appealing enough on screen that they won't make you gag. There is also the vegetarian soldier that becomes a zombie and Sevauri tries to protect him because he is a "good" zombie. Ick! But this movie doesn't get mired with the talkiness of Romero's film that featured characters I cared far less about than in this film. There are occasional pauses before the zombies get revved up and start attacking. It is a rollicking, sweat-inducing, intensely gory ride of a movie, much like its remake counterpart, "Dawn of the Dead." On that level, check it out. It won't resonate like Romero's films but this film can stand on its own for modern apocalyptic fervor.

It is a Maxi-Pad Drag

DRAG ME TO HELL (2009)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Drag me out of this movie. Sam Raimi's horror-comedy "Drag Me to Hell" puts more spin into horror than the comedy, which would be acceptable had the horror been something more than a vomitous creature and a bland, real-estate heroine with lots of fire and brimstone special- effects. And for comedy, well, we have vomit, worms and a mean goat! These are traditional Raimi touches but they are not very hellishly funny.

Alison Lohman is Christine Brown, a bank loan officer who denies an old Gypsy woman an extension on her house (timely topic indeed). Needless to say, the old Gypsy woman doesn't take this very well after she tries to bite her and beat her to a pulp in a parking garage! (Hey, don't shame a Gypsy who begs on her knees.) Unfortunately, Christine has been cursed by this ravaged, cretinous woman with the help of a coat button! How apropos yet Christine is not prepared for the torment and physical pain she will endure. We are talking about demonic shadows that creep around during the day and at night, violent dreams that involve the Gypsy woman vomiting ungodly things into Christine's mouth, flies that try to penetrate her skin, nosebleeds that lead to spraying people with blood, and an assortment of other tortures from Raimi's Evil Dead arsenal.

Unfortunately for us, none of this is any bloody fun. Lohman is so fluffy and blandly inconsequential an actress that she would make white bread moldy by just looking at it. Some early scenes with her boyfriend (Justin Long, unconvincing as a professor) show promise, especially when we learn that her boyfriend's mother disapproves of her. And there is some compassion developed early on about her promised job as an assistant manager that feels genuine. Raimi (who wrote this film) abandon all hope of a strong character study for the sake of aimless bloody thrills and chills. Lohman emotes a singular gaping expression every time she is frightened or thrown around like a rag doll (only her scene at a graveyard seems to elicit more of a Bruce Campbell wickedness than anything else in the movie). Raimi amps up the soundtrack with creaky noises and a chorus of screeching sounds, but to what avail when we could care less about Christine?

"Drag Me to Hell" aims to be an "Evil Dead"-type film but it lacks thrust and purpose and a better lead. Bruce Campbell in the "Evil Dead" pictures was in on the joke but he also made us watch and recoil at everything he encountered - he and Raimi made more inspired, inventive horror films that became Three-Stooges-like cartoons. Lohman also makes one recoil but we quickly lose interest in a largely unsympathetic and witless character (I will not describe what happens to a certain pet). I am all for a Raimi horror pic that abounds with bad taste and wicked humor. This is the first time from Raimi that I was only left with a bad taste.

Heartbroken Angel in L.A.

SOME GIRL (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally written in 2000)

Sometimes I will walk into a video store and find an obscure film that never got anywhere or got much distribution, yet managed to find its way into a video store like Blockbuster. There are two major films I can think of that are not talked about much or receive any merit. There was the delightful Paul Mazursky comedy "Next Stop, Greenwich Village," and the far more obscure "Crooked Hearts." "Crooked Hearts" amazingly never attracted any attention at all, despite a cast that includes Juliette Lewis, Peter Coyote, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Noah Wyle, among others. Sure enough, I found another film on the video shelves that I never heard of called "Some Girls" (also known as "Men," 'Some Girl," and "Girl Talk"). I was immediately interested because of the cast, and of course Juliette Lewis is in it. What a surprise to discover a fitfully good film that no one ever heard of! "Men" was shown at the Los Angeles Independent Film Festival where it won an Audience Award. It never actually got distribution, but it is now on video.

Marissa Ribisi in "Some Girls"

"Men" stars Marissa Ribisi as Claire, a red-haired girl who drinks heavily with her friends at singles clubs (though it mostly looks like an unpopulated bar). Claire had just got dumped and gets into a bitter mood, ignoring her brothers and family. Her friends include April (Juliette Lewis) who sleeps around and expects to be picked up by her friends the morning after, the punk rocker Jenn (Pamela Segall) who has theories on sexual practices, and the bartender Neil (Michael Rapaport), April's semi-boyfriend who is always ignored by her. There is also Claire's brother, Jason (Giovanni Ribisi), a seemingly nerdy, vivacious guy who wants a date with the reluctant Jenn.

"Men" is written by Marissa Ribisi (Giovanni's sister) and Brie Shaffer, and they pay special close attention to Claire and April. If nothing else, this film should have been called "Women," as the women are really the ones who dominate. "Some Girls" (the video title) detracts from the film's emotional moments - this is not just another twentysomething, Generation X programmer with bland stars from "Dawson's Creek." At least, these two women possess some integrity.

Claire is the focus of the film, and her distraught emotions are based on relationships with guys who find her too weird but love her curly red hair. She meets one guy at a magazine stand, Chad (Jeremy Sisto), who loves her hair and finds her "intriguing." Of course, everyone warns Claire that any guy named Chad is bound to be trouble.

April supposedly abhors men, and is drawn to Neil's kindness and compassion. Still, she feels the need to have one-night stands and hurts everyone who gets in her way.
If "Men" sounds mediocre and a time-waster based on its scantly told story and largely underdeveloped characters, then I would not recommend it. However, I must confess that I enjoyed it. Giovanni lends the film a quietly erratic energy whenever he is on screen - he gets all the best lines. I also enjoyed watching short-haired Juliette Lewis (finally a good role since "The Evening Star") and the lovely, sweet presence of Marissa Ribisi - they make their characters human and heartfelt. The sight of Ribisi wearing angel wings lends the film a certain kind of poignancy.

"Men" does not feel complete, and has too many characters who drift around without any insight into their nature (Pamela Segall's Jenn is one character I wanted to know more about). Still, "Men" is a sweet, innocent, droll film that merits a little more attention than it got.

When Dinosaurs Bored the Earth...

JURASSIC PARK III (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The ads proclaim that this is not just another a walk in the park. Indeed, it is in fact a well-traveled path through the same damn park. Do not expect the filmmakers of this latest snooze to know what it means to entertain the audience. One, twice, maybe. The third time is not the charm. The diamond should be cut ever so delicately so that it can still sparkle. Here, it is more like a piece of charcoal.

Let's consider the premise of this latest sequel. A kid is left alone in a Costa Rican island known as Site B or, to Jurassic fans, Isla Sorna. Dr. Grant (Sam Neill), a survivor of the original "Jurassic" film, is persuaded by a rich businessman, Paul Kirby (William H. Macy) and his wife, Amanda (Tea Leoni), to go on a tour of the island which happens to be infested with dinosaurs. This is no ordinary tour since it turns out that the kid who is HOME ALONE IN ISLA SORNA happens to be related to the Kirbys. Now Grant must confront those sneaky velociraptors and other dangerous breeds of dinosaurs but since he has field experience, he should have no problem. Only the Kirbys and the other members of the tour (including Michael Jeter in a brief role who brings some inkling of humor) are what Jeff Goldblum's Dr. Malcolm in "The Lost World" referred to as "fruitcakes."

That brief premise is a basic concept that can be described as a pitch to a Hollywood studio executive. It is not the basis for a movie. It is just an idea...but what else is there? Not much except countless scenes of dinosaur carnage, loud Dolby-ized roars, hums and thumps, Tea Leoni overexemplifying her screams and that is it. Some brief mention of genetic engineering holds some interest but hardly enough since it is barely mentioned again.

Joe Johnston ("The Rocketeer") takes over the directing chair but you, sir, are no Steven Spielberg. Spielberg knew how much to show on screen and when to aim for some brief over-the-top thrills. He also had the gift for imbuing us with giddiness and a sense of wonder whenever a dinosaur popped up on screen. Johnston, however, overdirects to the hilt as if he was back in "Jumanji" terrain and he has a less than capable editor at the helm (where is Michael Kahn when you need him?) Thus, the film feels disconnected and fruitless in the second half as it shows a dinosaur attack, one-dimensional characters bickering, another attack, more bickering, etc. In the last half-hour, the movie seems to have one too many climaxes and never exactly arrives at a conclusion. Monotony sets in early and it becomes a chore to sit through the movie, even at a seemingly painless 90 minute running time.

The first two "Jurassic Parks" were mindless monster movies to be sure but they at least had a central theme and some sense of purpose. The first film was about the danger of meddling with nature and packaging something unique to the masses - it was a modern-day "Frankenstein" tale. The second film had a more ecological theme, and an understanding of how animals nurture and care for their young. This movie (not based on any novel by Michael Crichton) is about nothing. There is no theme, no sense of purpose and little in the way of ingenuity except to show how life-threatening it is to be trapped in an island of untamed dinosaurs. Why are we back at Isla Sorna, the same island from the last picture? Why not take the dinosaurs to New York City to be exhibited only to then run rampant around the city? A more modern approach to "King Kong" would have ended the series with a bang rather than a whimper. And why leave Laura Dern hanging in a thankless cameo?

"Jurassic Park III" has one or two scary sequences that recall the thrill and intensity of the first film. It is also modest fun for a while seeing William H. Macy maintain a straight face throughout. Still, other actors are left to appear as gaping idiots particularly Leoni, who grates the nerves, and Sam Neill who seems to be coasting by with nary a trace of the humor or pathos he brought to the original. In short, this is a soulless, joyless movie bereft of three-dimensional characters or a strong, compelling story or theme. It is no walk in the park.

Not much bite, not much soul

THE LOST WORLD (1997)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Steven Spielberg is one of the best action directors in the world and his first dinosaur epic, "Jurassic Park," was one of his most exciting since "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Having said that, the last thing we would expect from Spielberg is a mildly exciting, occasionally mediocre dinosaur epic and that is what "The Lost World" is, an uneven but often entertaining sequel to the number one box-office monster in history.

Chaos scientist Dr. Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) is back chasing away dinosaurs on Isla Sorna, a mountainous island full of redwood trees and vines, also known as Site B. This is the place where the dinosaurs were supposedly bred before being sent to the island of Jurassic Park in the original - all of this is explained by Richard Attenborough reprising his role as John Hammond in a quick cameo (You may also notice that the tormented kids from the original, Joseph Mazello and Ariana Richards, show up for an unnecessary cameo as well). Malcolm is astounded by this secret and especially that a group has been sent to photograph and study the creatures at the site, including his paleontologist girlfriend, Sarah (Julianne Moore). Malcolm runs off to save her amid all those rampaging T-rexes, quick velociraptors, stegosauruses, and numerous other mammals. Quick question: if everyone knew how dangerous the closely guarded theme park of Jurassic Park was, why would anyone want to come to an island full of dinosaurs on the loose? One answer: money.

"The Lost World" has some spectacular action sequences, especially the scene where two T-rexes throw a trailer halfway off a cliff leaving the group hanging for their lives and Sarah caught in a glass spider web - it is hair-raising, thrillingly edited and typically vintage Spielberg. This is what we came for - the vicarious thrills and chills of dinos making their way through the screen stomping and chomping humans. What's missing this time, though, is a sense of mystery and, surprisingly, a real sense of adventure. The digital dinosaur effects are superb yet they somehow seem old-hat - almost everything in Hollywood entertainment is digitized so that the thrill of seeing real dinosaurs is somehow gone. "Jurassic Park" was great entertainment - this movie falls short of being just good entertainment. It also feels a little overbearing and monotonous at times, and since there's not much of a story or real characters to identify with, we are left watching a soulless monster movie with some doses of black humor to compensate for a couple of dull stretches. An example of good black humor is the grand finale where the T-rex runs loose in San Diego terrorizing all the citizens in their swimming pools, video stores and buses. It's fun for a while but joyless in execution - Spielberg doesn't take it over the edge as you would expect him to.

As written by David Koepp, the characters are less defined than in the original. Jeff Goldblum has more fun with his part largely because he has the lead role, however, he resorts to basic running and jumping at the end - leave it to Spielberg to explain the significance of Malcolm's black daughter who comes along for the ride. An interesting character is the bald big-game hunter who wants to capture and shoot T-rexes and he's played by Peter Postelthwaite ("The Usual Suspects"). But, again, his character is disappointingly thin and ill-defined leaving his conquest, at best, as anticlimactic. Ditto the poorly written role of Arliss Howard as Hammond's son who wants to exploit the dinos in a theme park. Julianne Moore has a nice rapport with Goldblum and I wish there were more scenes between them but Spielberg is just interested in bloody carnage.

"The Lost World" is hardly a total washout but it is not among Spielberg's better films. It spurts some funny, fast and furious moments but nowhere near the level of "Jurassic Park." The action doesn't creep up on you and make you shiver - great Spielberg action is so thrilling, it scares you and makes you want to grab your seats or the person next to you. "The Lost World" is a real workout and it makes you sweat, but it does not make you wince.