Above-par Z production

THE MASK OF ZORRO (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed in 1998

It is rare to see an action-adventure film that evokes memories of the action serials of yesteryear - remember The Masked Avenger or Buck Rogers? A commonplace argument is that recent action films focus more on Dolby-ized explosions and car crashes than any story or plot. "The Mask of Zorro" is that rarity - a fast-paced, rollicking action film that brings back the snap and vigor of Zorro in all its glory without resorting to extreme violence or heavy explosions, and it has a reasonably decent story to tell.

During the opening sequence, we learn that Zorro, otherwise known as Don Diego de la Vega (played with panache by Anthony Hopkins) is the masked hero of the Mexican people. Some prisoners are about to be executed by a firing squad led by Governor Don Rafaelo Montero (Stuart Wilson), and the crowd bawls. Before you know it, Zorro comes out of thin air and rescues the prisoners with sword, whip, a trusty steed, and attitude. Unfortunately, he is apprehended by Montero's guards resulting in the death of his wife.

Twenty years later, Alejandro Murrieta (Antonio Banderas) is a wandering street thief who inexplicably becomes Zorro's star pupil - I say inexplicably because who would want to tutor a curly long-haired wanderer on the street, but never mind. Zorro teaches Murrieta everything about swords, chivalry, matters of etiquette, conversation, and well-groomed appearances. Thus, Murrieta becomes the new, dashing Zorro slicing his way through several of Montero's minions, and dancing elegantly with Montero's daughter, Elena (British-born Catherine Zeta-Jones), who is really Vega's daughter.

"The Mask of Zorro" has plenty of stunts and action scenes, but its main thrust is an expanded backstory about Vega's past and the revenge he seeks on his wife's death. This exposition with the well-cast Hopkins shows more flair and promise than I might have anticipated, even for a hokey Hollywood production like this one.

As for Banderas and Zeta-Jones, they do have sparkling chemistry, culminating in a romantic kiss during a sword duel. The biggest weakness is Stuart Wilson (previously a villain in "Lethal Weapon 3") as the fatuous Montero who isn't remotely threatening or evil. Still, "The Mask of Zorro" is as escapist and fun as Hollywood has been getting lately.

Overpowering beauty in Yimou's landscape

HERO aka YING XIONG (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is an astonishing sequence in "Hero" that features an array of arrows fired from hundreds of soldiers in an open field. The arrows are aimed at a calligraphy school. The arrows kill many students and, eventually, two students perform a balletic maneuver of deflecting the arrows. It is so astonishing and breathtaking, carefully composed and orchestrated, just like a ballet. Chinese director Zhang Yimou ("Raise the Red Lantern") is at his best in martial-arts action scenes that seemed ripped out of a comic-book. They are vivid splashes of color and sound that abound on screen and are as hair-raising as anything in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." The emotional involvement, however, is low, even for Yimou who directed one of the finest films of the 1990's, the subtle, overpowering "The Story of Qiu Ju."

The title hero of this film is Nameless (Jet Li), a Chinese assassin who has purportedly killed three assassins who have plotted to kill the King of Qin (Chen Dao Ming). The three assassins include Broken Sword (Tony Leung), Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung) and Long Sky (Donnie Yen). Nameless arrives at the King's court to announce the news, though he must remain firstly 100 to 10 paces from the King's throne or else he will be killed. The King has hopes to unite all three kingdoms of China to make for a peaceful country with no reason to ever to go to war again. Unfortunately, through a series of "Rashomon" flashbacks, we discover that Nameless's story changes. It is discovered that Flying Snow and Broken Sword were lovers, but was death induced over jealousy or fatalism over the disagreement of political ideals? And what about the loving yet occasionally fierce Moon (Zhang Ziyi from "Crouching Tiger"), was she Broken Sword's lover or was she merely a fighter who wanted to protect her friends? Could the deadly Long Sky be such a careless fighter when battling Nameless? More importantly, did Nameless actually face these enemies and destroy them?

"Hero" asks many of these questions and, towards the end of the film, I wasn't sure what the outcome would be. I was surprised and realized what director Yimou was aiming for in terms of mythological resonance. The problem is that the "Rashomon" flashbacks lend little in the way of pathos or character development, both staples of Yimou's earlier work. These assassins fly through the air with grace, fight with balletic ease, and know how to deflect numerous arrows at once. But we learn precious little about them, they seem to exist more as mythological figures than human beings.

If anything works wonders, it is cinematographer Christopher Doyle's astounding imagery. The sword fight between Moon and Flying Snow amidst yellow leaves blowing in the wind is sublime (especially when the leaves turn red). Another sword fight between Nameless and Long Sky culminates in freezing drops of rain broken by Nameless's sword - even the rain acts as a barrier or shield against the enemy. There are also terrifically composed shots that show some character definition such as the endless walks down the school corridors, the lovemaking under the sheets (a shot I recall from Bertolucci's "The Last Emperor"), a suicidal pact in the desert, Nameless's walk to the King's throne amongst thousands of soldiers, the exquisite moments when we see the process of calligraphy, and so much more visual beauty that I can't say any audience member will not be wowed by what they see.

"Hero" is also too short at 1 hour and forty minutes - you wish Yimou and his writers took advantage of full character exposition. Still, this is a daring new direction for Jet Li - he has a commanding presence and is, of course, one hell of a fighter. If Li appears in a film with Zhang Ziyi again, I am there - they play the strongest characters in "Hero." For fans of martial-arts and exquisite, colorful images, you can't do better than the visually enthralling "Hero."

Kicking with omnipotence

THE ONE (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Jet Li has presence, style and is not a bad actor at all. But if he is not quick on his feet, he may end up like Jean Claude Van Damme with synthetic formulaic nonsense like "The One."

Li plays Yulaw who, I am guessing, plays a cop who travels from one parallel universe to another. His mission is to destroy all 123 selves, and with each self that is killed, he becomes even more powerful. Apparently, after demolishing the final 124th self, he will become the omnipotent "The One!" Naturally, the 124th self is not ready to be killed by Yulaw, known in the very last parallel universe as Gabe, an admired Los Angeles County sheriff's deputy. This movie believes there are only 124 parallel universes, but what does Yulaw think will happen when he kills the last self? What is the one, and the one of what exactly?

I suppose it is counterproductive to review a martial-arts film like this because the fighting sequences are well-choreographed, and people will see this film to see Jet Li fighting. But there is a lot here that depends on special-effects and CGI effects right out of "The Matrix." You see, Yulaw is not just human, he is superhuman. He can run at super speed, dodge bullets in Neo-style, and throw motorbikes like they were made of paper mache. But director James Wong makes no effort to flesh out any kind of story or provide raison d'etre for what occurs. It is wall-to-wall with action but no character and no pulse. Everyone is a cardboard cartoon character with no purpose other than to provide window dressing for Jet Li's next fancy move.

I had seen Jet Li in "Kiss of the Dragon" and that was an energetic, entertaining film that provided some decent, colorful characters as the foreground for the background action scenes. "The One" places action in the foreground and the background.

2001: A Soporific Odyssey

MISSION TO MARS (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Brian De Palma has aped Hitchcock in most of his work and done it with real style and pizzazz. Sometimes his work turned to other corners of inspiration, like his homage to Eisenstein's "Potemkin" in "The Untouchables." Then there were his early political films like "Greetings" and "Hi, Mom!" But where on earth does "Mission to Mars" belong in this director's career? Somewhere between the botched "The Bonfire of the Vanities" and the ludicrously overwrought "Scarface." "Mission to Mars" is a bad film, a sort of cinematic link to Kubrick's "2001" but it is a boring, highly unimaginative work, not the sort of enjoyably sleazy badness of "Body Double" or the campiness of "Raising Cain." All you might do is doze through most of this mission.

A few astronauts in the year 2020 are sent to Mars to excavate and discover the red planet where no atmosphere exists. According to this film (and I suppose this is a known scientific fact), it takes six months to get to Mars from Earth and another six to return naturally. It felt like six months sitting through this mess. But I digress, as we discover in the first half-an-hour that a trip to Mars was a foolish idea from the start. A sandstorm with a peering, snakelike tornado sucks in everything in its sight, including two fellow astronauts. One survives, as played by Don Cheadle, which makes sense since he is the best actor in the group. Other astronauts at a nearby ship in space decide to go to Mars and get Cheadle back safely. The actors playing this other group of geniuses include Tim Robbins, Gary Sinise, Jerry O'Connell and Connie Nielsen. They all seem out of place, as if they rather be somewhere else.

To be fair, "Mission to Mars" has some bravura moments since no De Palma film can be without at least one (remember the breathless long take at the beginning of "Bonfire of the Vanities," for starters?) A tense sequence in the ship which is slowly coming apart due to holes in and around the exterior is a vintage suspense piece. I also liked the sand storm that sucks everything in its sight. And there is a nifty long take inside the ship as it rotates and we see all the different characters defying gravity. Still, Stanley Kubrick mastered those kinds of shots with far more finesse and control than is evidenced here. And that is it, folks. The ending is protracted and corny, including the sight of an alien that would barely survive as someone's desktop background in their computer. It takes so long to get to the rushed climax that all I said to myself was, "Is that it?" Can De Palma be serious trying to pass something meaningful and poetic in what appears to be a video game sequence that would not make it any arcade?

I sat dumbfounded and annoyed with "Mission to Mars" because everyone involved can, and should, do better. I know De Palma is trying to get back into the game with a box-office hit. "Mission to Mars" is the low road to desperation - unexciting, inert and innocuous. It is clear evidence that De Palma is temporarily AWOL.

None of the Right Moves

BLUE CHIPS (1994)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Blue Chips" has got all the right parts but it doesn't have the moves. It has the prototypical mountain bear of an actor, the always thrilling-to-watch Nick Nolte as a college basketball coach who is pissed off his team is consistently losing (He's pretty good at hurling water coolers around the room without making everyone wet). It's got actual basketball players for true authenticity, Shaquille O'Neal for one. It's got the politics of buying out players to compete for upfront cash from rival teams. In short, this film could've been the "Moneyball" of basketball in its day. So what went wrong? What begins as fresh material without the sentimental inclinations of other sports movies about winning the big one degenerates into mediocre TV material.

That is a shame really because the set up is damn good. Nolte is Pete Bell, the coach of a Western University basketball team that is losing big time. The season has been a failure and the coach feels like a failure, yet we see he is devoted and passionate about his team and trains them the best he knows how. He seeks consolation from his ex-wife (a very wasted role with Mary McDonnell) and all she does is remind him that he has won two championships in the past. Rather than keep kicking a basketball into the rafters, Pete recruits new basketball players from other towns. Louisiana has Neon (Shaquille O'Neal), a 7-foot player who never had any coaching and can dump that ball into the basket without breaking a sweat. One prospect is from Indiana who wants 30 grand to join the team (much to the consternation of Pete). Another prospect hopes that by joining, his mother (Alfre Woodard, also a wasted opportunity of a role) gets a job, a new house and furniture. The idea is that the team's owner (a bullish JT Walsh) will spearhead the favors and will guarantee a win for the team.

Most of this is fascinating but the film doesn't have enough juice to make the initially complex moral tale come alive. The team players are not given enough focus - they all want to play the game but they represent little beyond that. Shaq's Neon says that the SAT's are culturally biased and he failed the test on purpose - he gets some tutoring from Pete's ex-wife. One player wants to back out of the team, with the hopes that his mother can keep the job she was given. A veteran player had apparently shaved some points in a past game. These elements shift in and out of the screenplay but they do not provide the freshness of the behind-the-scenes world of college basketball that is short-shrifted in favor of some heated melodrama. That melodrama comes from Pete who has a cop-out ending. Nolte is such a damn good actor that he makes us almost believe the cornball message at the end, but it doesn't make it less cornball. It is unnatural cornball morality. I wanted to know more about Neon and his conversations with Pete's ex-wife. I also wanted to know about the Indiana prospect whose character is defined only by his greed (that and his father gets a brand new tractor). It makes no sense to introduce these fresh faces, the new team members who form the crux of the story, and give them nothing to do.

Director William Friedkin brings a reality to the basketball games that is vivid and often exciting to watch. However, he can't do justice to an undernourished screenplay by the usually terrifically juiced-up Ron Shelton who did stellar work with "Bull Durham." "Blue Chips" was advertised as a Nolte/Shaq vehicle. It is mostly Shaq on the receiving end and Nolte uttering the same-old, same-old cornball mentality of a mediocre TV-movie.

Moore Downsizing Trump

TRUMPLAND (2016)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Michael Moore used to be the right-wing's highest-profiled enemy, a Michigan liberal with working class roots who saw the American Dream dying a rather prolonged death. Now, he is still the libtard documentarian to some Republicans but not the raging liberal-stomping-his-feet-in-protest liberal like Bill Maher. Something odd happens in "Trumpland," it is not a scathing indictment of Donald Trump and not necessarily a glowing endorsement of Hillary Clinton, both who at the time of the release of this film were running for President of the U.S. It might have helped had Donald Trump seen the film, who thought it was a ringing endorsement for his campaign!

"Trumpland" has Michael Moore at its center, filming a one-man show over two nights at the non-profit Murphy Theatre in Wilmington, Ohio where, as stated on the marquee, Trump supporters were welcome (quoting Moore who wanted to perform at Newark, Ohio where he was booted off by Republicans, Wilmington has "26,000 registered voters there and only 2,000 of them are registered as Democrats.") As he speaks on stage with enlarged black-and-white photos of Hillary gracing the screen behind him, Michael Moore seems calmer and more willing to embrace the right-wing or at least understand where the Donald Trump supporters are coming from. He recognizes they are angry with the direction the United States has undergone during the Obama Years, or maybe since the late 1970's. Moore wants to understand that their vote for Trump is not one cast for the right presidential candidate but more as a middle-finger gesture to the establishment. All fine and dandy yet that is all Moore is willing to say about Trump (aside from a brief 1990's video where Trump hopes for the best between Hillary and Bill Clinton prior to Bill's impeachment) - "Trumpland" is not an anti-Trump film, at least not at first.

Moore focuses greatly on Hillary, a woman he did not vote for yet he doesn't dislike her. He wants to hear from the audience why they would not vote for Hillary and if they could identify a single aspect they like about her. And then, in typical Moore fashion aiming towards our heartstrings, he discusses health care and how Hillary, during the early Clinton years, was pro-Universal Health Care. Of course, that plan was opposed by conservatives and promptly killed by Bill Kristol, former Chief of Staff to Vice President Dan Quayle and former chairman of the Project for the Republican Future. The point is that many in the audience of Moore's show have been affected or know someone affected by lack of health insurance. The tears flow from the audience and it is meant to drum up some support for Hillary. Clearly, since this film was released prior to the 2016 Election, it did not work in favor of Hillary.

At 71 minutes, Michael Moore still has his humor intact (the satirical Trump commercials are hilarious, and the fake wall built over Hispanics in the Upper Balcony and the fake drone flying over the Muslim section are inoffensive though some audience members are caught on camera agreeing with having a close eye kept on the Muslims) and there are notable references to Moore's 1996 book "Downsize This" where he has a chapter on Hillary that is nothing if not a love letter (which she appreciated when they met at the White House almost two decades ago). By the end of the film, it is clear that Moore, who favored Bernie Sanders as President, wants a conversion from the audience members who support Trump. In a sneaky, almost imperceptible manner, Michael Moore raises his middle finger at Trump without making much mention of him. His anger at the establishment is more subdued is all.

Disposable, not disturbing

DISTURBIA (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

If "Disturbia" was made without "Rear Window" as its inspiration, I might have still found fault with it. "Disturbia" tries to be a modern-day "Rear Window" knockoff, but it lets its tricks out of the bag too soon with middling, predictable results.

Shia LaBeouf, a fast-rising young actor, is Kale, a troubled high-school teenager who is still grappling with his father's death by car crash (the only truly intense scene in the entire movie). He is so distraught that the mere mention of his father's name by his Spanish teacher gives him justification to knock the teacher out. This lands Kale in a three-month house arrest, though that may not be the worst of it. His mother (Carrie-Anne Moss) has canceled his X-Box game account and cut the cord to his bedroom TV (he still has a computer and an iPod, so all is not lost). In order to kill time, Kale looks through his binoculars, observing his neighbors, including the young attractive blonde (Sarah Roemer), who could pass for Jessica Biel, who moves in next door. But something disturbing is happening across the street. A certain Mr. Turner (David Morse) may have been responsible for the disappearance of women around town. He has the same Mustang with the same dented bumper that the newspapers describe at the scene of the kidnappings, and carries around bloody bags to his garage!

"Disturbia" moves at a fast enough pace but it rings hollow by the the time we get to a climax right out of Leatherface's digs. For one, Kale is a little one-dimensional for my tastes. Here is a kid who loses his father, adopts an ankle bracelet for his house arrest, and his biggest regret is that he can't play X-Box. Of course, he gets to kiss the blonde girl and does some smart detective work but the movie never quite establishes his character convincingly enough - he is just a clumsy kid who gets into trouble. Shia certainly has presence and gives a decent enough performance, but he has little to work with.

Carrie-Anne Moss appears only when the script requires her to, which is mostly berating her son for going past his boundaries. Sarah Roemer as the girl could easily have drifted in from that reality show, "The Hills" - her character is simply the anonymous kind you forget. As for David Morse, let's just say that it will be no surprise to anyone what this seemingly cold-blooded neighbor is up to. From his first introduction behind a wooden fence with a rabbit, all level of suspense is thrown out the window.

"Disturbia" may be acceptable fare to some but, for myself, I've seen better. In the way of suspense, thrills and mounting tension, "Disturbia" is certainly no "Rear Window" or any of its derivations, including the underrated if still unremarkable "Bedroom Window." It is definitely no "Fright Night," a certainly different genre piece, but the peeping tom aspect of spying on your neighbors is the same. "Disturbia" could've been infused with more of a kick in the character and thriller departments. By the time it ends, you'll find it more disposable than disturbing.

Some exciting brush strokes

BASQUIAT (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 1997

Film biographies are probably the most difficult to make because you have to draw insight into the main character, and dramatize the life he/she lived in their own particular time and place. Recent biographies such as "Michael Collins" dramatized the world the revolutionary lived in but remained aloof in terms of his personal life and his motivations. "Basquiat" commits some of the same errors but it is more energetic and vivid a portrait of a lost soul.

The film is based on the true story of Jean-Michel Basquiat (Jeffrey Wright), a graffiti artist who rose to prominence in the money-grubbing art world of the 80's, and went through a rapid decline through the abuse of drugs and instant fame. At the beginning of the film, we see Basquiat (who calls himself Samo) living in a cardboard box in a New York City park. He already is indulging in heavy drugs, including heroin, but he has dreams of selling and displaying his graffiti work in an art gallery. One day, he falls for a waitress named Gina (Claire Forlani) while spreading tomato sauce on a table and making a portrait of her. Eventually, Basquiat hits it big when a gallery shows his work to great acclaim, and consequently acquires the interest of several gallery owners, dealers, poets, pop artists such as Andy Warhol, self-promoters, etc.

Julian Schnabel (a painter in his own right) makes his directorial debut with this film, and he is a justifiable choice since he was an actual friend of Basquiat's. Schnabel creates a pointed commentary of the New York art world showing how eager gallery owners and buyers embraced a new artist and eventually exploited him. What Schnabel doesn't do as successfully is to capture the man behind the artist. We see Basquiat as a frequently dazed and confused artist who loves drugs and seems to love his girlfriend...and that's about it. There are no glimpses into the artist himself, where his vision emanated from, or what drove his creativity. Of course, Oliver Stone's "The Doors" remained curiously remote about a similar artist, Jim Morrison, but that was a more visually dazzling film of a certain era and we saw how living in those times could push someone over the edge. "Basquiat" doesn't succeed on the same level: it presents Basquiat as a man already in the gutter before his rise. In other words, there's too little of the rise, and too much of the fall. The scenes with Basquiat and Gina are too temporary to register any sense of loss of love between them; we see that his drug abuse may have pushed them apart yet every glimpse of Basquiat is presented in short vignettes with no particular payoffs. He has one gallery showing after another but there's no sense of accomplishment - for all we know, Basquiat could just be a junkie wandering around SOHO trying to impress everyone, including Andy Warhol.

Speaking of Andy, the relationship between Basquiat and Warhol works best, and it's both melancholy and deeply moving. David Bowie is a real joy to watch as the dazed Warhol who's consistently murmuring to himself. It's a portrayal on par with Jared Harris's deadpan interpretation in "I Shot Andy Warhol." I love the scene where Warhol is painting an Amoco logo and Basquiat paints right over it causing Warhol to softly murmur "What are you doing? You're painting right over it?"

"Basquiat" has a slew of actors from what seems to be the Hall of Fame of Independent Films. There's Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman (very understated), Parker Posey (as a snooty dealer), Willem Dafoe (as an electrician who gives the movie's best line about art), Courtney Love, Elina Lowensohn, Christopher Walken (as a TV journalist), Michael Wincott (as a poet), and Benicio Del Toro as Basquiat's best friend. These people drift in and out of Basquiat's life without making much of an impression except for his one true friend, Andy Warhol.

"Basquiat" is well-made and enjoyable throughout with fine performances, including the ideally cast Jeffrey Wright in the title role. He brings pathos and a sadness in his eyes that fitfully captures the artist. "Basquiat" the film is not a complete portrait, though - it is mostly an assemblage of exciting brush strokes.

Disinformation about a Veep

THE CONTENDER (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original Review written in April, 2001

Rod Lurie's "The Contender" has been criticized for taking a strongly liberal, Democratic side as far as the political race is concerned. I hasten to disagree though one can argue but why carp? "The Contender" is about the race for political office, and how in this post-Clinton climate, a presidential nomination is based on one's personal life, not the political.

The fabulous Joan Allen ("Pleasantville," "Nixon") stars as the fierce, determined, stubborn, sexy Laine Hanson, a senator who has just been appointed as a vice-presidential nominee by the President of the United States (Jeff Bridges). Laine is everything a promising new candidate should be: she has a loving husband, a young son, and loves politics. Problem is she is also a woman, and has a sketchy past (not to mention she is an atheist). It is discovered that she may have been involved in explicit sexual acts with several guys while in college. GOP Rep. Shelly Runyon (Gary Oldman) is determined to blast the news all over the media - his agenda also stems from his disapproval of a woman in office, regardless of her past actions.

Hanson's solution is clear: either admit to these past indiscretions or admit that they never transpired. But Hanson is fierce and stubborn - she also has some sense of decency. She refuses to admit to anything and would rather keep mum than fall for Runyon's own stubbornness and sense of moral code. What Runyon does not realize is that his own obsession with Hanson's sexual past is likely to put him in conflict with the President and cause a genuine lack of credibility.

"The Contender" can be considered liberal-minded but I take issue with that. I think the film mainly wants us to see how devalued the political process has become. We should not judge a political candidate based on their sexual or personal history. Our focus should be on the candidate's stand on political issues. I am sure everyone can agree that it should be the case with Republican or Democratic parties. Should a woman take office if she could get pregnant while in the midst of a nuclear crisis? Or if she got her period? As Hanson threateningly says at one point to Runyon while having lunch: "If someone has to push that button, be sure it is a woman who is getting laid."

There is a subplot involving an FBI agent inquiring about Hanson and another vice-presidential candidate caught in some hot water over an incident resembling Ted Kennedy's own Chappaquiddick incident. The candidate is Gov. Jack Hathaway (William Petersen), who failed to rescue a woman trapped inside a car in the river. Hathaway's noble yet failed attempt at a rescue risks his chances of becoming vice president. Again we are asked, why should a man's nobility in a decidedly apolitical incident ruin his political future?

"The Contender" has great performances and several robust sequences of cunning direction and acute sensibility. Not one shot or line of dialogue is wasted. Everything flows with terrific precision. Oldman's snickering and Bridges's authoritative understanding add to the potency of the material. But it is Joan Allen's robust performance that takes us deep inside the political process and asks us not to question her actions or past indiscretions as much as whether they really matter in the end.

Plan an alternate trip

VACATION (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I have to admit, I laughed three or four times while watching this sequel/reboot of "Vacation." That is already more times than I laughed during 1997's very unfortunate "Vegas Vacation," meaning I did not laugh at all at that abomination. However, despite two appealing central performances from Ed Helms and Christina Applegate, the whole movie smacks of being wanting and rather desperate. Some astonishingly crude scenes will leave a sour taste in your mouth (which reminds me that anything bloody usually works better in Monty Python country).

Ed Helms is Rusty Griswold, the eldest son of the Griswold clan, who is taking his family on a vacation to Walley World. That is the reboot subplot of the movie; as you will recall, it was the Griswolds' destination in the 1983 film with Chevy Chase. The rest of the film is the actual trip with Rusty's increasingly bored wife (Christina Applegate) who is looking for a new spin on vacation locations that do not include the same-old log cabin. Some of this is slightly hysterical, such as Applegate's Mama Griswold proving that she can physically compete with the new alma mater sorority girls. I also enjoyed the consistently malfunctioning Albanian car that Papa Griswold drives (it even has a Swastika button in the remote). But the movie cheapens itself with gags that never amount to much of a payoff. The reprise of the famous Christine Brinkley-flashing-her-smile-while-driving scene from the 1983 original ends in a nasty collision (occurs offscreen). When the clan takes a dip in a presumably hot spring, it turns out to be raw sewage. When Papa Griswold tries to impress Mama by driving a scooter, he plows into a cow and let's say bovine intestines fill the screen in a scene that would even make Quentin Tarantino vomit. Speaking of vomiting, Mama Griswold vomits at a college sorority, trying to show the girls who is boss. Yuk.

This "Vacation" movie is full of excessive gross gags with nary a trace of humor. Accidentally killing a cow, for example, is presented as the "joke." Consider the original 1983 film where a dog's leash was left tied to the stationwagon's bumper. The joke is when the patrolman pulls Chevy Chase's Clark Griswold over and tells him how horrifying this accident and death of a dog is while holding a leash (the dog is never seen again). Clark doesn't quite see it the same way and stops himself from smirking. Okay, admittedly it is not hilarious but it has some measure of drollness along with empathy for an animal.

Aside from three or four laughs and a couple of chuckles about Chris Hemsworth's huge member, nothing in this "Vacation" is likely to be reminisced thirty years from now despite the talents of Ed Helms and Christina Applegate who deserve a richer vehicle than this old, dusted off revisit. Plan an alternate trip. 

Pat Hitchcock should sue

A PERFECT MURDER (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Although I am not as disconcerted when director Brian De Palma apes Hitchcock, I am more offended when someone removes all the qualities that made Hitch's best films memorable. The key was suspense through nuance and insinuation dictated by sumptuous performances and exemplary camera moves, the latter never being obvious yet always in sync with the emotions of the characters. My favorite example is when Norman Bates carried his mother out of her room in a high-angle shot in "Psycho." In "Dial M for Murder," I would say the defining moment is when Ray Milland wipes clean every object he touches as he explains to the hired killer how to carry out the murder of his wife, thus not incriminating Milland himself. It is no surprise that "A Perfect Murder" is a remake of "Dial M" but it is an insult to my intelligence and to the audiences who already feel remakes are needless in the first place. Not that "Dial M For Murder" could not stand to be remade since it is one of Hitch's lesser achievements, but this so-called suspense yarn is not it.

Dialogue through nuance and diction are thrown out the window in favor of bloody, suspenseless thrills every few minutes. Michael Douglas, in one of the lesser performances of his career, makes his motivations and murderous impulses easy to spot from the opening sequence, playing a reptilian, Gecko-like character who knows his wife is having an affair. Where is Ray Milland when you need him? Why is Douglas's wife, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, so naive as to think her husband is not up to no good? How does Douglas know Paltrow will answer the corded phone at the precise moment she will be killed when she could easily let the answering machine...oh, who cares. Not even Viggo Mortensen as her lover can convince her that her husband is a bastard. And Mortensen's character changes wildly from its original design as he engages in a plot to...well, you might see it coming for miles.

So there are histrionic performances from cold-blooded characters who elicit antipathy, not empathy, not to mention Paltrow and Mortensen as the most unromantic pair of lovers in many moons - they could not even warm a pair of cold bricks. In addition, there are more red herrings than needed and a tasteless, protracted "Fatal Attraction" finish that will make you puke from disgust and anger resulting in one of the most anemic thrillers ever. "A Perfect Murder" needs more than a blood transfusion - it needs Hitch. Patricia Hitchcock should sue and as of 2001, she still hasn't.

Sex is not just about intercourse

KINSEY (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from January 4th, 2005

In today's world, sex is sold and manufactured as if it were a brand name. Look at the titillating magazine issues of "Blender," "Stuff" or even the occasional flash of nearly nude women in "Entertainment Weekly" or "Vogue." Consider the media, particularly when Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction was one of the main cultural events of 2004. So sex is packaged yet President Bush and the religious, puritanical right contend that it is a demonic act. In many ways, we seem to be reverting back to the ideals of the 1950s. Dr. Alfred Kinsey broke the mold of sexual hygiene and sexual performance. Suddenly, America learned that sex was not just about intercourse.

Liam Neeson plays Dr. Kinsey, an Indiana University professor, who at first shows a keen insight on the mating customs of gall wasps, so much so that he teaches a course on it and publishes a book. Somehow, we know the able doctor is capable of so much more. He falls for and marries a student in his class, Clara McMillen (Laura Linney), and on their wedding night, they have some difficulty copulating. They go to see a sexual therapist who reminds Kinsey that his penis is just too long! Nevertheless, Kinsey discovers that mating customs have prohibited and misguided married or unmarried couples in maintaining a good sex life. According a published book of its time, "Ideal Marriage: Its Physiology and Technique," masturbation and oral sex were considered deviant acts, specific reasons of which are more fun to read about or discover when seeing the film. Kinsey wants to revise the rules, namely the traditional missionary position, by interviewing people from across the United States to find what men and women really do in their bedrooms. To his shock, he discovers that they do perform many of these sexual acts but the majority of couples seem to live in the dark ages. In 1948, he publishes the highly controversial "Sexual Behavior in the Human Male," and in 1953, "Sexual Behavior in the Human Female." Storms of protest follow and the media and the good citizens of the country call it smut, considering the blunt sexual and clinical terms used such as vagina, penis, etc.

Kinsey himself gets curious as well, performing some of these acts with his wife. The problem arrives when he hires his first researcher, Clyde (Peter Saarsgard), who sleeps with Kinsey. Clara gets furious yet, after some time, accepts it and is asked for a romp in the hay by Clyde! Meanwhile, Kinsey hires more researchers and more controversy follows, especially when he has his own researchers sleep with each other's wives. It is only research, though one gets the impression that not everyone is comfortable with the notion of sex as an experimental tool. Eventually, funding begins to evaporate and the general feeling is that sexual frankness has its limits.

There is a basic character trait of Kinsey's that is left unexplored. Writer-director Bill Condon ("Gods and Monsters") depicts Kinsey as a stern, ruthless experimenter and attuned to detail, so attuned in fact that it is as if sex is nothing more than sex to him. He forgets that there is such a thing as making love, though he obviously loves his wife. Did Kinsey ever know that sex is not purely an animal act devoid of love? That extramarital affairs, regardless of justification, can have dire consequences for the couples involved? Or was he ever in love?

Liam Neeson plays Dr. Kinsey as well as he can, but I felt something was amiss. The Neeson of "Schindler's List," and of earlier films like "The Good Mother," always felt like he embodied the characters he played. Even a misfire like "Rob Roy" felt like a majestic Neeson performance. Here, playing a nearly stodgy-like character despite his predilection for the mysteries of sex, Neeson is too physically imposing and, dare I say, larger than life. I can't picture Neeson as a doctor who sees no flaws in his experimentation and as someone who defends all odds to show the world that sex is more than it can be. Neeson feels uncomfortable in that skin, as if he is dying to get out of the insides of this character. He twitches, gives us those glaring facial expressions and expected screams, but I always felt a sense of discomfort. I highly doubt that the real Dr. Kinsey was this way, but I could be wrong.

Laura Linney is exceptionally and straightforwardly good as Clara, slowly believing in Kinsey despite radical changes in her sexual appetite. Also worth noting is the restrained Peter Saarsgard as the sexual provocateur, Clyde - he asks for a sexual favor with such delicacy that no woman, or man, can turn him down. Chris O'Donnell is also superb as another researcher who knows his limits when it comes to sexual deviancy. I also enjoyed Timothy Hutton and the always memorable Oliver Platt as the President of Indiana University - he is one of our finest, most colorful character actors. Kudos must also go to John Lithgow in an underwritten yet powerful cameo as Kinsey's father, a staunch minister.

Bill Condon showed his strengths as a storyteller with "Gods and Monsters" and still proves he can make bios that breathe with simplicity and clarity. But the central character of Kinsey still gnaws at me, and Neeson doesn't help make it any easier. By the end of the picture, you get the impression that Kinsey was none too comfortable with the sexual revolution he helped developed.

Time-travel radio signal

FREQUENCY (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Time-travel can be an exciting arena for the cinema because it defies all logic and pretense. After all, it does not seem feasible that we can travel backwards in time, but the very notion does bring up all kinds of strange paradoxes, as does traveling forward into the future. But then you have a film like "Frequency" which asks not so much to defy logic but to defy reason.

Consider the premise of the film. You have a sullen cop named John Sullivan (Jim Caviezel) who removes an old ham radio from his closet. He plays with it and discovers one night that he can communicate with his father (Dennis Quaid). Here is the catch: John's father, a dedicated firefighter, died in a horrific blazing fire while in the line of duty. So it is John in 1999 having conversations with his dad who is alive and well in 1969! How can this be? Can it be the strange forms of lights in the night sky that are causing a break in the space-time continuum? Or, to be more radical, could it be that it is all in John's mind? Nevertheless, we are left with suspending logic temporarily since John realizes his father will die in that fire within a few days in 1969, just before the Mets play their first game in the World Series! Can John prevent his father from dying in the past? And wouldn't that rupture the space-time continuum?

I am willing to suspend disbelief at the cinemas as much as everyone else, but there is something horribly wrong from the get-go. Though the story is not possible by any stretch of the imagination, in terms of just pure scientific reasoning, how could John be talking to his father from the past? Would that not be changing the future at all just based solely on that premise alone? And how can John only feel that the future has changed until his father changes the past at the approximate time that coincides with the time in the future? Why should that matter? And if everything can be erased as it is with (*SPOILER*) John's father surviving the fire, then how can John feel an alternate time line existing when no one else can? Just a matter of logic and reasoning based on the filmmaker's rules. Stephen Hawking would have a field day with all this.

All paradoxes aside, the basic problem with "Frequency" is that I never believed the relationship between John and his father. Simply put, there is no chemistry between Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezel - they do not make a fitting father-son combo. And frankly all the time paradoxes, and an implausible serial-killer plot to boot, distracts from the emotional connection to the story, which is simply about a father and son trying to communicate. Added to that is the lack of an explanation about Jim's girlfriend, who leaves him at the beginning, and then does not recognize him later after the past had been changed. A little nod to "It's A Wonderful Life" to be sure, but the subplot is left dangling like an unexposed wire in a time machine, and thus she is never seen or heard from again.

If nothing else, it is a pleasure seeing Dennis Quaid back to his clever, sly, cocky self - sort of a grown-up version of his character in "Dreamscape." He is often like a live wire, ready to explode at any moment (the opening sequence where he survives a fire is followed by a sampling of Martha Reeves' "Heatwave.") "Frequency" is too just too low on the voltage meter to follow Quaid's live-wire act.

Up where she belongs

UP AT THE VILLA (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed in 2000

"Up at the Villa" is a strange movie experience, possibly because such a polite film of manners and delicacy switches gears and becomes something other than what you might expect. It has the grandly theatrical look and feel of 1999's "An Ideal Husband" but it develops into something akin to an Agatha Christie mystery.

Kristin Scott Thomas stars as the widowed, highly composed Mary Panton who locks herself inside a beautiful villa, often contemplating her lack of passion while sitting out in her garden (my, my, how great it must be to be rich). Mary is unsure of whether she should accept a marriage proposal from a courtly diplomat (James Fox) but she must answer soon since he is going on a trip (and gives her a gun to protect herself from the roaming refugees on the streets). She leans more towards a married, debonair American (Sean Penn), though she resists him at first due to his honesty. Then there is the pity she feels towards a young, poor Austrian violinist (Jeremy Davies) who is also a refugee. One thing leads to another and when she tries to resist the young, passionate fellow, things get rather awry.

This is where the big switch in tone and style comes in, and "Up at the Villa" becomes more of a moral tale where immorality takes the day. Yes, immoral, considering the choices Mary makes when confronted with danger. A film like this would not have existed during the Production Code days where protagonists had to be punished for their crimes. Mary and the American get involved in a crime that evolves into a highly political situation - even the Italian police are corrupt.

The performances deliver for the most part, all very classy acts to be sure. Kristin Scott Thomas has a difficult role, exuding sensuousness, duplicity and beauty all in one package, often at the most inappropriate moments. Still, she has class and elegance and maturity - though not at the same breadth as in "Angels and Insects" (directed by Philip Haas who helmed this one as well). Anne Bancroft is the gossip-mongering neighbor married to Italian royalty who is as freewheeling and flirtatious as they come. Sean Penn is the added sparkle to this fine cast, his nuance and diction are as far removed from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" as you might expect and he is far more restrained than he usually is. He also has the right flair and chemistry in any scene he shares with Scott Thomas. Kudos must also go to Derek Jacobi's brief role as a flamboyant tour guide of sorts.

"Up at the Villa" is an uneven film, never quite finding the consistent tone that it needs, but it is slick and involving enough. Sometimes, picturesque settings and Kristin Scott Thomas wearing any colorful wardrobe she chooses is often enough for me. "Up at the Villa" has plenty of both.

Cameron Crowe's Eyes are Wide Shut

VANILLA SKY (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed late December 2001

"Vanilla Sky" is a Cameron Crowe rock n' roll movie trying to be a sophisticated, ambiguous thriller and it is reason enough to conclude that Hollywood is dying. To some it may be dead already but "Vanilla Sky" will not win any new fans of La-La Land. Those who found Cruise's offbeat, artistic endeavors through Kubrick and P.T. Anderson's worlds cumbersome will find his return to such dreamlike territory a lot less than thrilling. Either way, "Vanilla Sky" has compelling material delivered in a perfunctory and unbelievable manner.

Cruise plays David Aames, a rich, hotshot publisher of a "Maxim"-like magazine called "Rise." David is not liked by his business partners who all feel slighted that they did not inherit the magazine from his father. He calls all the shots but hardly seems to care about the business. He has a luxurious apartment with a great view of New York City, a splendid woman friend, Julie Ganni (Cameron Diaz), whom he sleeps with on occasion, lavish parties where a hologram of John Coltrane can impress his guests, and so on. Is he really deserving of such a life or is his life an empty, lonely one? That may all change. The night of his 33rd birthday party, David meets his best friend's new date, Sofia Serrano (Penelope Cruz), and instantly falls in love with her. Sofia is charmed yet unimpressed with David and realizes that Julie (who comes to the party uninvited) is a sad woman in love - "the sad girl with the martini." But Julie gets jealous and begins stalking David. Before you can say "Fatal Attraction," Julie drives off a bridge with David in it. David gets disfigured, Julie dies, he loses his friends, almost loses his acquired business, is suspected of murder, and begins to wonder if everything is real or simply a dream or if he is in a coma. Or perhaps David is simply shut out from reality permanently. Maybe he is dead. By the three-quarter mark of this movie, I could not care less for David or his constant whining.

Based on Alejandro Amenabar's "Abre Los Ojos," "Vanilla Sky" has intriguing ideas lurking beneath a Cameron Crowe movie that is less interested in building its theme of a discovery of one's awakening reality than being an overlong homage to rock n' roll. Yes, this is Crowe at work here but this was not meant to be "Almost Famous" with David Lynch overtones. The tone of the movie is off, wavering uneasily between romantic comedy, a thriller, and a David Lynch nightmare. There are rock songs playing on the soundtrack every few minutes to remind us to stay awake while Cruise wears a mask explaining his past, present and future to a psychiatrist (Kurt Russell). The mask reminds one instantly of Cruise's far superior role in "Eyes Wide Shut." There are twists and turns piled up so often that they made me feel like my leg was merely being pulled from one extreme to the other. "Open your eyes" is the phrase said with great repetition in the film. So why was I so insistent on closing them?

None of this would seem distracting if at least we had a glimmer of sympathy or empathy for David. As played by Cruise, he is a bitter fool with a nice smile who has no inner life - a spoiled rich kid, nothing more. The movie has no degree of subtlety or nuance, even in terms of dialogue. There is no feeling of a change occurring in David because he seems like a cipher from the beginning. He has no inner dimensions to speak of and it was hard to feel sorry for his disfigurement at any moment.

As I said, the dialogue certainly doesn't help matters. One line that had me cringing (and there are many) includes a ludicrous scene in a bar where a disfigured David tries to get the bartender to make eye contact with him. "Look at me, bitch," says David. Not one of Tom Cruise's proudest moments or Crowe's. And the constant referral to Julie as a "f--- buddy" left me wandering my eyes to the nearest exit. I am no admirer of "Jerry Maguire" but I'd rather sit through that again than this garbage.

"Vanilla Sky" is a reference to the clouds in a Monet painting, and thus the basis for a Paul McCartney title track. But it is one putrid, laughably obvious trifle of a movie with Cruise merely going through the motions. With an underwritten role for Diaz, an always smiling Penelope Cruz who steals the movie, a sometimes masked Cruise and a shockingly awful, over-explained finale, I left the theatre in great haste and disgust. Here is a fitting alternative to seeing this movie: close your eyes and take a nap for a couple of hours.

Liane Curtis rocks the Hell out of Satan

GIRLFRIEND FROM HELL (1989)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"I wish I picked a different line of work" - Satan

Great line delivered with puckish wit by Liane Curtis, who clearly relishes the role of Satan who has taken possession of a geeky girl. If only the movie had more delectable lines of wit and less sexual biplay that leads nowhere. And less wine drinking courtesy of Curtis.

The plot is fairly simple. The girl-next-door-type who can't stomach a date with anyone or look them in the face is being set up at a birthday party for a louse named Rocco. The date is not Rocco but an extremely shy, meek-looking Carl (Anthony Barrile) who is given advice by his dad (hilarious cameo by James Karen) on how to pick up women that might not fly in today's oversensitive millennialized climate. Curtis plays the geeky girl, Maggie, who doesn't know how to wear fake eyelashes though her lacy leggings with lipstick designs suggest a different kind of girl. Sooner than expected, Maggie steps out of the party and is consumed by some red flash of light from the sky. Yep, she is possessed by Satan and you know Satan is no kind of repressed teenager, no way. Maggie suddenly sports a pouffed-up hairstyle, seduces every man and then sucks their souls out of their bodies, tries to run down a group of gun-toting nuns (!), embarrasses everyone at a restaurant, drinks wine by the gallon, you get the picture. She is the 1980's own Party Girl who grows bored easily.

Meanwhile, Dana Ashbrook ("Twin Peaks") is Chaser, who literally chases Satan hoping to extinguish her to hell and damnation, but not before apologizing for not being the best boyfriend to her all those ages ago. He is constantly teleported from what looks likes the desert to the house party, to a nightclub, back to the desert - it gets repetitive in the second act all this mindless teleporting.

"Girlfriend From Hell" is a shapeless disaster, neither comical enough or sexy or funny enough to qualify as anything other a dry hump of a cinematic experience. Liane Curtis is the best thing in the film (her sole leading role) and it is always fun to watch Lezlie Deane (who later appeared in "Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare") as a more sophisticated friend of Maggie's who smacks and punches men without blinking. Fact is that women in this movie kick and punch men and the men are as apologetic as ever, until they decide to keep focusing on breasts and lower extremities. Women are also seen as nothing but sluts and if they aren't, they sure as hell will turn into one (except for Lezlie Deane). Most of this film could offend women overall (80's movies never gave young women a fair shake) but the biggest offense in "Girlfriend From Hell" is that it is likely to put the viewer to sleep. Teleport me out of here.

Collette and Diaz in Sibling Rivalry

IN HER SHOES (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 2005

A chick flick from a chick lit bestseller? Both of these terms have recently been entered into the Webster's dictionary. I despise the terms because they limit what both may offer. Does chick flick describe all romantic comedies, movies about women bonding, female empowerment or all the above? I don't see how "Pretty Woman" and "Thelma Louise" fit in the same category, but never mind. "In Her Shoes" could've been cliched, sentimental glop that pushed the tearjerking mechanisms down the throat of your average moviegoer. Instead it is a heartwarming, regaling tale of two sisters who are at extreme polar opposites in their relationship and attitude.

Based on a novel by Jennifer Weiner, "In Her Shoes" stars Cameron Diaz as a flirtatious, alcoholic, dyslexic woman, Maggie, who has no desire to do anything except to party and screw. At the start of the film, Maggie is seen at a high-school reunion screwing some unnamed guy in a bathroom (Conservatives take note). She arrives at her parents' home only to be thrown out. Now she must live with her prim and proper sister, Rose (Toni Collette), a Philadelphia attorney who has her own man in bed! Talk about an inconvenience, Maggie takes wind and has a romp in the hay with him as well. Before that happens, Rose insists that Maggie find a job but it is a downhill struggle - Maggie is kicked out of Rose's house and is forced to find her own way. While moving her things from her parents' house, she finds birthday cards addressed to her and Rose from her grandmother in Florida. These letters were concealed for reasons I'll not reveal, but it is the precedent for Maggie's migration to Florida to mooch off her grandmother.

Ella is the grandmother (played by Shirley MacLaine), living in a retirement community where she assists older folks. She is no dummy and can see through Maggie. Ella points out that Maggie's option is to work at the retirement home and, if she succeeds, Ella will match her pay dollar for dollar. If not, Maggie is back on the street. And you can imagine what the retired older men think when they see a nearly naked Maggie sunbathing while they play poker.

Meanwhile, Rose is pursued by Simon (Mark Feuerstein), a co-worker who is seriously smitten with her. She also quits her job and becomes a dog-walker! However, just like Maggie, she can't communicate her feelings about her sister and lies to everyone, including her parents. Of course, her father (Ken Howard) has his own deep secret.

Nothing too surprising happens in "In Her Shoes" but it is the movie's confidence in the characters of Maggie and Rose that helps raise this a few notches above the usual term I hate, "chick flick." Thanks to screenwriter Susannah Grant and director Curtis Hanson ("L.A. Confidential"), the movie offers ample time invested in these characters so that the highly emotional finale wrings true with tears well-earned. This is simply a story of sibling rivalry and each sibling learning from each other. Rose builds confidence and learns to communicate her emotions, which are always kept in check. Maggie turns from a dyslexic floozie to a respectable, poetry-loving woman who learns to appreciate life and what it has to offer. This doesn't mean she'll feel differently about wearing good shoes.

Something nagged at me during the movie though. According to a reliable source who read the book (my wife), Rose is quite fat in the novel. In the movie, Toni Collette hardly looks like a fat ugly duckling (this is the same woman who lit up "Muriel's Wedding"). Reportedly, Collette gained 25 pounds for the part but you can hardly tell (at least I couldn't - shades here of Zellweger's slim weight gain for "Bridget Jones's Diary"). And so the highly charged scene where Rose finds her sister in the throes of her boyfriend that leads to Maggie calling Rose a "fat pig" doesn't register as anything except as a verbal insult. If Collette represents a fat woman in this day and age, then where does that leave the formerly heavy Kirstie Alley? The debate continues.

"In Her Shoes" is a pleasant, often entertaining film with truly engaging performances by Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette. Diaz is so good that you forget she's acting, and is truly moving in scenes where she reads an Elizabeth Bishop poem to a blind professor. Diaz also has good chemistry with Collette and their rickety relationship is believable. Collette is an underrated actress (who was Oscar-nominated for "The Sixth Sense") and she provides all the dramatic weight that colors Rose. She can be sweet, enraged, demure and loving - her smile at the end is quixotic and unforgettable. I also love Shirley MacLaine as Ella, the sharp, tough grandmother who is still tickled pink when asked out on a date. Mark Feuerstein is a capable romantic lead and has a certain charm - I wish there were more scenes between him and Rose. Also worth mentioning is Brooke Smith's equally sharp turn as Rose's best friend, Amy, whom Rose confides in. And there's also Ken Howard as the loving, understanding father who realizes he can't hide things from his daughters forever.

For laughs and some revelatory truths about sisters, "In Her Shoes" is highly recommended. It doesn't hit you over the head with messages or how to become a better person. The movie is slinky and sophisticated in its mood and tone and gives you comfort - just like wearing a good pair of shoes.

Conventionally unconventional rom-com

BRIDGET JONES'S DIARY (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed on July 3rd, 2001

Renee Zellweger is an actress whose sprightly charm and quivering, cutesy smile can melt moviegoers' hearts like no other. She is the girl-next-door type but her irresistibility breaks some new ground here - you get the feeling that she can be embarrassed and impish at the same time. She is the unique joy of "Bridget Jones' Diary," a fairly amusing if slightly misguided romantic comedy with ample charm and considerable laughs. It just lacks the extra leap to take it beyond conventionality.

Bridget Jones (Renee Zellweger) is the neurotic, lonely, uncouth heroine of the 1996 bestseller by Helen Fielding. She is so lonely that she drinks heavily while listening to Eric Carmen's "All By Myself" (a touching, heartbreaking moment). At first glance, no one seems to take a gander at Bridget. She is plumpish and tends to say exactly what is on her mind, including at book receptions where everyone looks at her with slight bemusement. At dinner parties, she confronts men who see her as an unappealing spinster, including the rich Mr. Darcy (Colin Firth). Her boss, however, takes a liking to her (he is played with irresistible glee by Hugh Grant), and the two begin having an affair. Of course, Mr. Darcy gets jealous since he does like her.

It is no surprise where the film is headed when we know Mr. Darcy will inevitably change his mind about Bridget. But the film takes on a knowing, self-conscious style at the beginning where we begin to think that it will poke fun at romantic comedy conventions. There is a moment where Bridget makes an error in judgment at work and we see her unsaid obscenity splashed across the screen. "Bridget Jones' Diary," however, does not take as many unconventional routes as one might hope. Bridget loves the two men but has to decide between one. Bridget also tries to bring her parents back together after a brief separation. Some of these episodes work better than others but they hardly figure cohesively as a whole.

I have not read Fielding's book but I've been told that it truly maps out Bridget's insecurities and messy lifestyle with more depth. The film does show her drinking and eating and smoking too much and we sense she is real obsessive and has trouble finding the proper man (she is also a bad cook, witness the strange coloring of her cooked meals). But all these qualities are painted in broad strokes. Bridget's biggest flaw seems to be her uncouth quality but I was not clear why everyone seemed so perturbed whenever she made a speech (I found her speeches funny and engaging). As played by Zellweger, she has charm and an affable quality but her weight gain (reports say she gained as much as 20 to 40 pounds for the role) does not exactly put her on the same scale as Conchata Ferrell (who I love no matter how much she weighs). In other words, I get the sense that the film has been sanitized from its written form to accommodate all women in the audience. Where does this leave the women who are perhaps uncomfortable with their weight or who need someone like Bridget Jones as their role model, essentially saying it is okay to be fat and still have Hugh Grant as your suitor?

"Bridget Jones' Diary" has Zellweger at its center and she is as convincing and delightful as one can imagine. Kudos also go to Hugh Grant and Colin Firth in witty supporting roles (I could have lived without a cliched fistfight between them). There is also a funny cameo by Salman Rushdie as himself no less. The film has pizzazz to offer but compare this to any other romantic comedy, and I dare you to find the difference.

Better than Identity, Bourne still remote

THE BOURNE SUPREMACY (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 2004)

I sat for two hours watching "The Bourne Supremacy" with a full audience at a 3:00 afternoon show. After the first twenty minutes, I could not concentrate for too long because I grew dizzy (added to that, I kept hearing an old guy snoring behind me). The dizziness was due to the constant hand-held camerawork, relentless to the point that the camera shakes more violently during an action sequence or a fistfight. And yet this movie is far more enjoyable than "The Bourne Identity," a bland thriller that coasted along its own bland energy.

The movie jumps into high action gears immediately. The slowly-getting-out-of-his-amnesiac-shell Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) is now living in India with his girlfriend, Marie (Franka Potente), shut out from the rest of the world. Of course, like any Robert Ludlum spy thriller, you can't keep a good assassin down for long. Bourne notices a man dressed in the wrong clothes and driving the wrong car near the streets of this Indian pueblo - someone is after him and wants him killed. Bourne whisks Marie away in his jeep, crashes off a bridge, falls deep underwater, and tries to rescue Marie. Unfortunately, she is dead (and don't expect her to come back a la "Run Lola Run's" time-twisting narrative). So who is after Bourne? It turns out that Bourne is accused of killing someone during a CIA mission - his fingerprints are planted there! This begs the question: who got his fingerprints? Definitely not the Russian assassin who tried to kill Bourne in the opening sequence. Or maybe the hand-held camerawork swayed from any details that couldn't stay on screen longer than two seconds.

Bourne wants to clear his name. He goes after Pamela Landy (Joan Allen - always a welcome presence), a new agent who wants the truth as much as Bourne does. The trouble is that this Ludlum antihero is always one step ahead of everyone, including Landy and the reptilian CIA boss, Ward Abbott (Brian Cox). He travels from Naples to Berlin to Moscow, always evading the CIA. In one chilling moment, Bourne aims his telescopic rifle at the unaware Landy while communicating via cell phone. And he is still one hell of a fighter, even disabling someone with a rolled-up magazine! And boy, can this guy move! He jumps with the ease of a Jackie Chan and, at times, resembles a superhero with his dark overcoat. Oh, and he can do wonders with toasters!

The movie is murky with details and conspiracy rings, particularly involving Abbott who you know is as corrupt as anyone in the entire movie. We are never sure who or what is responsible or why. We just get carried along by Bourne's continuous search for the truth, especially the possibility that he murdered a Russian in Berlin (an apparent introductory drill into the life of an assassin).

"The Bourne Supremacy" is dense with details that do not amount to much. It is sort of a latter-day "The Fugitive" with Bourne visiting hotels, apartments, train stations - they serve as reminders of long-forgotten memories that can trigger his cabeza to dispel truths he wants the CIA to uncover. Yet we still never discover who this Jason Bourne really is. After two movies, we just know he is an able assassin and a quick-as-lighting fighter - Damon plays him as a robot with no sense of humor. Realistically, it makes sense but it can get on your nerves. To be fair, he seems more threatening than he was in "Identity" and we do get carried along by his charisma.

As for the interminable hand-held camerawork, it is unfathomable how director Paul Greengrass thought this was the best way to shoot. The camera swings between 180 to 360 degrees, rotating and panning with barely much stabilization. Some people on the movie discussion boards said it was a way of "implying action." How can you imply when you can't tell what may or may not be implied? Still, I grew accustomed to it (and the use of long lenses where there would be out-of-focus shots) but it could have used the more rapid-fire, stabilized approach of John Frankeheimer's "Ronin" or William Friedkin's "The French Connection." I will say that the climactic car chase involving a taxicab and a SUV is about as exciting as car chases ever get, and the hand-held camera approach exemplifies it.

"The Bourne Supremacy" is entertaining enough for its two-hour running time, but it is a hollow, cursory thriller. We don't know what is really at stake and we learn precious little about Jason Bourne. It is the latest Hollywood thrill ride and it is engaging in a remote way, but it needs more carbs.