A Stir of Hauntings and a dash of Hitch

WHAT LIES BENEATH (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Director Robert Zemeckis ("Back to the Future") describes the screenplay of "What Lies Beneath" as "written in the language of Hitchcock." I am not sure if that is as insulting as Gus Van Sant's abominable "Psycho" remake, but it comes close. Not only does such a statement make me want to vomit but it further illustrates how audiences today might be compelled to agree, since they will accept anything with two glamorous movie stars. Actually, "What Lies Beneath" is written in the language of "Scream" and every slasher flick post-"Halloween," and the truth is that all of those films are superior to this monotonous, suspenseless and incredibly silly thriller.

 Let's look at what lies beneath the episodic structure. The beautiful, luscious Michelle Pfeiffer plays Claire Spencer, the morose wife to Norman Spencer (Harrison Ford), a successful geneticist. They live in some Vermont country house by a lake, and their daughter has just gone away to college. Claire misses her tremendously and is beginning to feel the effects of loneliness and isolation, especially since her husband is working late hours. At home, she finds there are problems with the electrical outlets in the bathroom (well, she gets a little shock occasionally). Soon, she finds the front door to her house opens by itself. Then picture frames begin to fall by themselves. But wait!!! Who is the bearded gentleman living with his wife in the house next door? And could the wife have been killed by her husband? And is the possibly dead wife a ghost who is haunting Claire? And is this another remake of "Rear Window," but without Christopher Reeve?

So far, so good - this is a fine setup for a possibly supernatural thriller. And Pfeiffer plays her role straight, lending a sympathetic hand for this melancholy heroine. Is she seeing things, or is there really a ghost in the house? But oh my, does Zemeckis and writer Clark Gregg screw it up by installing one too many red herrings. If you are one of the unlucky few who saw the trailer for this movie, you know the inevitable denouement and everything that leads to it. Suffice to say, I will not disclose much more except to say that the setup is completely ruined and fabricated, leading to a hodgepodge of other movies entirely.

Basically, "What Lies Beneath" is a hybrid of Hitchcock, "Sixth Sense," "Stir of Echoes," "The Stepfather" and anything else you can think of. Ask yourself this one question: are we seeing a thriller, a drama about a potential tryst, a ghost story, the latest slasher picture, or all the above? Apparently, Zemeckis and Gregg have no idea so they copy and paste it all together hoping it will make sense and surprise audiences. No sale.

I must say that I enjoyed the climactic, tense bathtub scene (recalling "Fatal Attraction's" bloody climax) and the lovely Pfeiffer's performance who invests more weight in the role than is necessary. There is also James Remar as the suspicious, curt neighbor (worth mentioning because he gives the best performance in the film, and he also bears an uncanny resemblance to Harrison Ford's bearded Richard Kimble in "The Fugitive") Unfortunately, Ford is left in the sidelines, barely registering any chemistry with Pfeiffer, and director Zemeckis is intent on throwing in the "fake scares" cliche, one after another, not to mention the old "the killer is never really dead" syndrome. From Ford, Pfeiffer, and Zemeckis, all that lies beneath is a lack of purpose.

$ for dead bloodsuckers

VAMPIRES (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 James Woods is such a volatile, energetic performer that he somehow makes every film he's in his own, and does so by charging up the screen with tightly controlled rage and tension. The same cannot be said for the turgid, monotonous shenanigans of "John Carpenter's Vampires," a shallow film where Woods is reduced to a one-dimensional sideshow attraction.

"Vampires" is set in New Mexico, where Woods plays vampire hunter Jack Crow, whose mission is to search and destroy vampire nests in the countryside. He's assisted by an anonymous motley crew of professionals armed with crossbows, shotguns, and fishing lines (so they can drag the vampires out into the sun). Oh, and there's a priest who comes along to bless each burnt vampire corpse. The master vampire, Valek (Thomas Ian Griffith) eludes them during one of their raids. As an act of revenge, he visits a party that the vampire hunters are at that same night and slaughters nearly everyone of them except for Crow and his partner (numbingly played by Daniel Baldwin). Crow is then hired by the Vatican to kill Valek and any other vampire nests that may have developed. In the meantime, Valek's mission is to find a cross that will enable vampires to walk the earth during the day.

"Vampires" could have been an old-fashioned B-movie with lots of gore and witticisms courtesy of Crow and his crew. Once the crew is vanquished, though, the movie loses focus and treads along cliched, charted territory. We get the hooker (Sheryl Lee) who's bitten by Valek and can telepathically anticipate his every move; the typical stake-in-the-heart theatrics (there must be more original methods of killing vampires); the naive priest who turns out to be heroic; and so on and so forth. As directed by Carpenter, this movie is sluggishly paced and completely devoid of humor or horror. There's also an anticlimactic ending that fails to deliver any thrills at all, surprisingly.

There are some pluses. For instance, when the vampires emerge from the ground (as opposed to coffins), it is spectacularly shot and very menacing. One can also savor the former "Twin Peaks" star, Sheryl Lee, who brings an element of empathy to her stereotypical hooker character - she's abused and slapped around by Jack and his sidekick in such a manner that you can't help but care for her. Griffith is perfectly cast as Valek, and he'd be great as Lestat ("Interview with the Vampire") if anyone cares to make another film version of Anne Rice's novels. I also enjoyed the musical score by Mr. Carpenter himself.

This pseudo-horror western is not the first of its kind. I fondly remember the cult film by director Kathryn Bigelow called "Near Dark," which also had a western setting and an interesting central relationship between a vampire couple. At least that movie moved along at a good pace. This one represents a new low in Carpenter's career - he's lost the element of surprise.

A sucky bloodsucker sport

VAMPIRES: LOS MUERTOS (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Piss poor in all departments, "Vampires: Los Muertos" is the unnecessary sequel to a movie that ran hot and cold for me, "John Carpenter's Vampires." A further undoing is the casting of Jon Bon Jovi, the lackluster singer of his terrible 80's band, as the resourceful vampire hunter in the James Woods vein. Problem is Bon Jovi is no James Woods and appears as a helping of moldy white bread with no sense of humor.

There is not much to be said for "Vampires: Los Muertos" - it is a slapdash affair with no style and not a whole lot of vampires either. Arly Jover (who was in the dreadful "Blade") is the main vampire lead but she doesn't get to do much except look animalistic and bare her fangs occasionally. Most of the vampires on screen disappear so quickly that there is no time invested in any of these random bloodsuckers.

The quixotic Natasha Wagner is a girl, infected by a vampire, who has been taking pills twice a day that help her maintain human instincts where she won't crave blood. There is also the Mexican kid from the sexed-up and frenetic "Y Tu Mama Tambien," Diego Luna, as an eager kid looking for a job, namely a vampire hunter. Darius McCrary is the black guy from Memphis who receives an oral treatment from a vampire that is hardly as salacious or violent as Coppola's "Dracula." And there is a priest whose intentions are questionable, specifically the location of a cross that vampires crave because it allows them to walk in the sunlight. Of course, Natasha's pills might work, too. Oh, the irony.

Tommy Lee Wallace took over directing duties from John Carpenter. Not a sound choice considering Wallace butchered sequels to "Halloween" and "Fright Night." Now he has further butchered "Vampires," the original film of which was merely so-so. I can only stand so many dissolves in a film before it becomes monotonous. This film es muerto on arrival.

Jamie Lee Curtis can't survive another sequel

HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION (2002)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia     
(Originally reviewed in August 9th, 2002)

It is one of my guilty pleasures to view the "Halloween" films, having seen all seven sequels to John Carpenter's original classic. I have not liked any of them, except for the chilling Rick Rosenthal sequel Number 2 and "H20." As all diehard devotees of the "Halloween" franchise can recall, the chilling 1981 sequel was set in a hospital where poor Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) was running from the Shape, Michael Myers to the rest of you. It was one of the few sequels that had the distinction of continuing the story from the same night where the original had left off. Now, Rick Rosenthal has reunited with Miss Curtis and the Shape for one more sequel. Is it a thrill? A delight? Not so. This latest sequel is not bloody bad, just more of the same, and with no attention paid to the most rudimentary character details that "H20" had.

Laurie Strode does return briefly for a fairly intense opening sequence featuring good old Mikey with the William Shatner face mask. After the first five minutes, the movie goes downhill. Apparently some show called "Dangertainment" will broadcast the comings and goings inside Mr. Myers' childhood home live on the Internet. The lead producer of the show (Busta Rhymes) loves kung-fu movies and is eager to scare the living daylights out of everybody, including the five or six (I lost count) high-school students invited to shoot their experiences inside the dreaded house with a digital camera. Before you can say "Blair Witch Project," there are numerous stabbings, decapitations, and oh just too many decapitations, and gallons of blood. There are the typical "Scream" one-liners uttered by emaciated, generic teenagers who should know better by now than to utter "Who's there?" Yes, there are the requisite sexual innuendos and make-out scenes, and before you know it, Michael Myers' white mask looms out of the shadows before someone gets hacked to death. I think I forgot to mention that Tyra Banks appears in this as well.

I am not sure what attracted me to seeing the latest offering from the Moustapha Akkad series except sheer curiosity (that and the brief appearance by Jamie Lee Curtis). Perhaps it is hope that this series can rise above the mediocrity and try something truly unique and really invoke the supernatural. Or maybe the thought that Michael Myers should simply retire. One decapitation is enough for me.

A whiz-bang superhero team

THE AVENGERS (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 All you need to know about superheroes is that they have special powers that enables them to perform extraordinary abilities. I wish I could say that when you see one superhero movie, you have seen them all. Not quite the case with the Marvel superheroes on hand here. From Captain America to Hulk to Thor to Iron Man, this is the sweet desert of an epic movie many fans have been waiting for. It is that, and more.

The gung-ho, patriotic Captain America (Chris Evans) has been frozen in ice for 50 years and is thawed out to help form the superhero team, the Avengers initiative, thanks to the persuasive Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick recruits other members, with the help of the formidable martial-arts expert and superspy Black Widow (Scarlett Johannson), such as the reluctant Iron Man aka billionaire hotshot, Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.), and the semi-reluctant Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) who is always angry but hasn't turned into the Hulk for about a year. The mighty Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is missing but not for long - he is searching for his adopted brother, Loki (Tom Hiddleston), a dangerous god from Asgard who wishes possession of the Tessaract, a glowing, impenetrable cube that allows the gods to travel from one dimension to the next. Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) is also on hand with his trusty bow and explosive-tipped arrows, but he ought to watch out for Loki's powerful scepter.

"The Avengers" gives us all the banter one might hope from these superheroes whose egos and personalities clash when they are in the same room. Thor fights Captain America and Iron Man while trying to capture Loki. Hulk and Thor also have their moment with giant green fists against a mighty hammer. When the Avengers are not fighting, they argue and try to one-up each other. Tony tries to get Bruce angry because he is "a big fan of the other guy." Tony also can't stand the "old man," that man being Captain America and his colorful outfit. Only Black Widow and Hawkeye seem to get along - they have a past history of being involved in minor political debacles, far removed from anything like gods, green-skinned monsters and alien ships.

The grand finale involving the aforementioned alien ships and alien beasties wearing visors and helmets felt a little off - who are these CGI-created hooligans from space? It felt a little like a hackneyed video-game in 3-D with all of these alien creatures falling into place a little too neatly. The focus on the story should have stuck with Loki, who manipulates others to do his destructive bidding early on. Could he not have done the same thing with our superheroes and turn them against each other? Still, despite various explosions of buildings and streets ripped apart like shredded paper (the comics featured just as much destruction), I cared about the superheroes enough to get through the calamity of it all. It is seemingly "Transformers"-type calamity, but with a lot more heart and more than one and a half dimensions. Michael Bay isn't half the director that newcomer film director Joss Whedon is.

Robert Downey, Jr. makes the most of the arrogant Tony Stark; Mark Ruffalo is an able Bruce Banner and impressive Hulk (the scene-stealer for sure); Jeremy Renner makes me root for his Hawkeye with his laser stare and archery skills; Scarlett Johannson (an actress I less than admire) gives us a whipsmart woman as Black Widow in this epic boys' tale, and Chris Evans is still the admirably old-fashioned Cap Man ("There is only one God, m'aam"). Tom Hiddleston is still the lecherous, Iago-type villain - displaying a tinge of regret about his estranged relationship with his hammer-loving brother. Two repartee scenes involving Loki and Tony Stark are about as engaging as one might expect. There is also a brief set of scenes involving Agent Coulson (Clark Gregg, who last appeared in "Thor"), the right-hand man to Nick Fury who wants his old Captain America trading cards to be signed by the man himself. It is moments like this, peppered throughout the film, that give it some soul, shape and dimension.

"The Avengers" is not the best superhero movie of all time (nor is it as grandly wondrous or enthralling as "Thor" or "Captain America") but it is a smart, snappy, rousing, occasionally lighthearted, furiously paced blockbuster film, giving comic-book fans and fans of these actors in particular a little bit of everything. These superegotistical heroes are not cardboard automatons - the actors give them humanity and individual personalities. And then they kick ass in the grand Marvel way.

Molly Ringwald's road to nowhere

P.K. AND THE KID (1987 - filmed in 1982)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

(originally written in 2002) 

Molly Ringwald had that special something that Shirley Temple had: she could make teenage boys develop a crush on her. From Ringwald's lead roles in "Sixteen Candles" and "Pretty in Pink," she became the face of teenage adoration in the John Hughes universe. I was one of those teenage boys back in 1986, even ogling at Life and Time magazines that featured her pretty freckled face gracing the cover. Ringwald then moved on from her teenage mode to mindless B movies that never did much for her career. But Ringwald was also the star of "B" and "C" movies prior to "Sixteen Candles." One of them was the exceptionally abysmal "P.K. and the Kid," a movie that makes TV movies look visually inventive by comparison.

P.K is played by Molly Ringwald, a teenage girl who faces one sexual assault after another from her mean stepfather (Alex Rocco). He beats her senseless but P.K.'s mom (Fionnula Flanagan) ignores the abuse. P.K. is so fed up she runs away, and stepdaddy is now after her. She flees inside someone's truck. Lo and behold, the driver is Kid Kane (Paul Le Mat), a professional wrestler who is on his way to Reno for a big match. He is willing to help P.K. though the reasons are not clear except that somebody should look after a teenage runaway. They drive off on the road, laughing, making jokes, etc. Most of this resembles a cheaply made TV movie. Stepdad often materializes out of nowhere and always finds P.K. P.K. and Kid manage to elude him further. There is not one shot that shows Stepdaddy is on to them, so how does he know their whereabouts from one state to the next if we never see him following them? There are wrestling matches and fistfights along the way in restaurants, bars, and fish markets. P.K. stays in the motel room while Kid Kane tries to woo a hotel clerk (or a waitress, I forget). This stupidity plays on and on, and it includes an unintentionally hilarious scene where Stepdad delivers a jab at poor Esther Rolle, a friend of Kid's!

Along with "Caligula," "P.K. and the Kid" is the only film I've ever stopped halfway through while watching it. It was a recent videotape I had bought cheaply and viewed, mostly because of my interest in good old Molly. I decided to fast-forward to the conventional, excruciating climax where Kid has his wrestling match. It is all about as exciting as waiting for a tree branch to fall on your head while reading a book (even Stallone's sweaty artificiality was more exciting in "Over the Top"). In fact, there are some good Ringwald movies, and some great Paul Le Mat films. For God's sakes, go to your local video store and rent them, but do not watch this time-waster or you'll be sorry you lost $1.50!

Rip off the 1%

TOWER HEIST (2011)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Tower Heist" should have been a rip-roaring action comedy with a great comic cast that would have upped the tomfoolery and absurdity to new heights. As it is, it is only fitfully funny and a bit underwhelming and undernourished but it still packs the occasional wallop.

Ben Stiller is Josh Kovacs, the manager of a residential New York City skyscraper. He plays chess with a wealthy businessman, Arthur Shaw (Alan Alda), who is the owner of a penthouse at the top of this skyscraper. Josh does an admirable job overall with his staff and the patient doorman, Lester (Stephen Henderson), who is hoping to retire within a year. Casey Affleck is Charlie, the concierge who mistakes a Korean woman for Japanese. Michael Pena is Enrique, the newly hired elevator operator. Matthew Broderick is a resident who is about to be evicted. Typical day in the Big Apple.
That is until Shaw is arrested for a Ponzi scheme that involves taking pension funds from the tower's employees. Trouble is that Josh asked Shaw to invest in everyone's pension funds. This leads to a scene where Lester nearly commits suicide by walking over a subway platform (fairly true to life in light of our current economic meltdown). Shaw will get out of jail soon and not pay a penny that is owed to the tower's employees. After Josh, Enrique and Charlie are fired by the General Manager, Josh hatches a plan - rob Shaw's penthouse and get the money hidden in a safe inside a wall. Only trouble is the safe is not where the gold is.

All this planning needs an experienced criminal, which leads to Slide (Eddie Murphy), a thief who can steal anything except he has no clue how to crack open a safe. This leads to Odessa (Gabourey Sidibe from "Precious"), a maid working at the tower whose family is in the locksmith business. How convenient.

Everything leads to an absurd climax that would seem improbable in an "Ocean's Eleven" flick. Let's say it involves dangling a car once owned by Steve McQueen over the side of the tower to...you gotta see it. It is so improbable and cartoonish that you can't help but laugh at it (people suffering from acrophobia, beware).

"Tower Heist" is mildly funny but it is occasionally infused with a profane comic engine by Eddie Murphy in a role he used to play in his sleep. Murphy has fun with the role of Slide, exposing the ridiculous assertion that he can only be remembered by critics for playing a "48 HRS." hoodlum. Murphy is bigger than the film, more talented than almost any other comedian in the past twenty years and his lightning-paced, alert manner in which he rattles off one line after another is pitch perfect. But once he disappears from the screen for long stretches, the movie loses a bit of momentum and purpose. Most nagging thought: why does the film let Josh off the hook when dealing with his employees whom he screwed over with the pension fund faux pas? Yes, Alan Alda plays his most deviously charming and evil role in years but the plot makes it clear that if it had not been for Josh, none of this might have happened.

Ben Stiller is at his most restrained here giving a more nuanced performance than normal. I would have loved more scenes between him and Murphy and Tea Leoni as an FBI agent (both Leoni and Stiller were in the fantastic "Flirting With Disaster"). The movie is still fun but it is not grand, dynamic or engaging fun with comic fireworks. It is more like a Christmas tree celebration at Rockefeller Center with sparklers.