Jigsaw has got more than severed fingers in mind

SAW II (2005)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

Though bloodier and nastier, "Saw II" is a fairly tightly-coiled, suspenseful if somewhat overwrought sequel to the surprise sleeper of 2004. Though it has less black humor and has more hysterically violent theatrics, it can still stand as a chilling movie in its own right.

We barely saw the killer in the original "Saw" - now he is seen in full-closeup as the Jigsaw Killer (Tobin Bell) who wears a black and red hood and speaks in a deep voice. He lives in some abandoned warehouse and keeps a house somewhere with its own Rube Goldberg contraptions (apparently, he doesn't clean up the bloody mess left over from previous victims). Donnie Wahlberg is Eric, a cop who plants evidence on his criminal suspects. He has his own headaches to deal with, including a son who is in and out of jail. Nothing can compare to the latest scenario - Eric's son has been kidnapped and held in a room with other victims of the Jigsaw Killer. They have to find the clues to get out, though there are traps one must be wary of including a gun trap behind a locked door, a Syringe Pit, an incinerator, and several other grisly contraptions that might give the characters in "Pit and the Pendulum" nightmares. Some of these rooms contain syringes that can save the group from a deadly, noxious gas. Of course, time is a factor, and there are those mini-tape players with instructions. If you have seen the original "Saw," you know what you are in for.

The group locked in the room are not the most entertaining bunch to be around. There is a muscular, selfish, unsympathetic idiot (Freddy G) who spends a lot of yelling - you want to see him dead before the final reel. There is also Eric's son (Erik Knudsen); a young, frightened girl (Beverley Mitchell); and returnee Amanda (played once again by Shawnee Smith). Excepting Amanda, the rest of the characters are anonymous and one only hopes they can get out alive, except for that hulking idiot.

"Saw II" does have a little more character exposition, notably with the Jigsaw Killer. He explains why he does what he does - he is trying to make his victims appreciate life more with what they have. Amanda, for example, was a heroin addict who survived a bear trap, and now she has thoughts of suicide which is why she is back in his lair. Most pressing question: how does the Jigsaw Killer choose and keep track of all of his victims? Email? MySpace profiles? Or does he have access to police files? Maybe we will find out in "Saw III."

"Saw II" has those frantic cuts from every camera angle that sometimes work (particularly in the death scenes), other times they are distracting (the numerous flashbacks). The movie, though, is unnerving, gory, and makes your bones chill. Tobin Bell is an impressive actor who makes the Jigsaw Killer a sympathetic monster by making us think he might have just cause for what he does, no matter how demented. You may forget the supporting characters but you won't forget the Jigsaw Man.

A true shocker in a jaded age

SAW (2004)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed and reviewed on 10/31/04)

After suffering through the monotonous "Suspect Zero," I was ready to say that serial killer films were a thing of the past. How many more variations can one find in the confines of a serial killer story? Even Hannibal Lecter was reduced to cartoonish size in "Hannibal" and "Red Dragon." The best film on serial killers is still "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer" for its grim reality and lack of irony, and also for not sticking close to the genre's penchant for unrelenting gore. "American Psycho" was an antiseptic joke on consumerism, but an entertaining joke nonetheless. "Saw" is nothing new but it is feverishly intense and in-your-face. Gory, yes, but its setting and performances raise it a notch above the usual claptrap.

"Saw" begins with two protagonists in an isolated setting. The two protagonists are Dr. Laurence Gordon (Cary Elwes) and a young photographer, Adam (Leigh Whannell). Both men awaken to find themselves chained to the walls with leg irons in a grimy looking bathroom. Two saws are available but they are too rusty and feeble to cut through anything, except their own ankles. They also have mini cassetes in their pockets with instructions, giving them potential clues to their escape. A corpse is in the middle of the room, drenched in blood in an apparent suicide and holding a mini cassette player. There is a dilemna: Dr. Gordon must kill Adam to save himself and his family. The serial killer remains unseen, perhaps hiding behind a two-way mirror observing their actions. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of a puppet with a hideous clown face marked with red spirals riding a tricycle! What in the name of "Seven" and "Silence of the Lambs" is going on here?

Most of "Saw" rests on flashbacks and flashbacks-within-flashbacks. Dr. Gordon recognizes that the killer may be the Jigsaw Killer, who doesn't exactly kill his victims - he places them in deliberate mazes and contraptions of death where they are forced to kill or kill themselves. One truly grisly flashback shows a heroin addict (Shawnee Smith) with a contraption attached to her head with a timing device that will spring open and destroy her jaws. She has to save herself by obtaining a key in the stomach of a corpse, a scene that will make gore-laden aficionados squirm. We also see a man trying to break through razor-sharp barbed wire. "Saw" is like a modern Grand Guignol remake of the "The Pit and the Pendulum" and "The Raven" with shocks to the system delivered with ugly punches to the gut. This is definitely the kind of movie where you cringe and avert your eyes more than once.

"Saw" also uses the muscular work of a film director utilizing every camera trick in the book. There are plenty of hand-held camera shots, roving cameras that pan around the intended victims in practically time-lapse motion, and subliminal cuts galore. These distancing effects are often detrimental in horror thrillers. Here, they heighten the suspense and the gore. First-time director James Wan often uses such devices when necessary instead of exploiting them - the grainy footage of that clown mask will make you shudder. The washed-out look of the grimy bathroom, lit by fluorescent lights, will make you want to use clorox and make the room spankingly clean.

"Saw" does have its share of forgivable gaping holes in the plot, including one involving Danny Glover as a cop whose partner is killed by the Jigsaw Killer. Glover is certain that the good doctor is the killer but since Glover's character is not developed, it is difficult to see what the connections are or how he finds the killer's lair (though his apartment is even more unkempt than Denzel Washington's in "The Manchurian Candidate" remake). There is also another head-scratcher involving the placement of a gun in the bathroom, though it is somewhat resolved in the climax. If nothing else, I wished I knew more about Dr. Gordon and his infidelities, or the brash photographer Adam and his proclivity for taking snapshots. I can only guess that the filmmakers initially thought of only using the bathroom setting minus the cop character and some of the flashbacks, which would have made this film as claustrophobic as last summer's "Open Water."

"Saw" is an efficient, effective thriller, utilizing every trick in the suspense book for maximum fright. With its dark conclusion, unyielding scares and ominous score, not to mention a decaying atmosphere, "Saw" will thrillingly remind one of how these movies used to be made. Think "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" without the irony and the humor of the post-"Scream" thrillers. "Saw" is a true shocker in a jaded age.

Mel Brooks' worst film - he had it coming

ROBIN HOOD: MEN IN TIGHTS (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I hated, hated, hated, and despised, despised, despised "Robin Hood: Men in Tights." I first saw it in theaters in 1993 and, despite occasional chuckles, I was deeply disappointed and felt the whole thing was a laughless affair. I saw it again recently, perhaps thinking I was unfair back then, and I am only partially right the second time around.

"Robin Hood: Men in Tights" mostly pokes fun at the Errol Flynn classic from 1938, and there are a few precious digs at the underrated "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves." What is striking is how few gags parody the Robin Hood legend. Cary Elwes is dashing, romantic and plays Robin Hood to the hilt, wearing a feather cap and green tights just like Errol Flynn. He has fun with the part and is madly good at fencing. He plays the part straight, which is fine and expected. However, Brooks directs the film far too straightly, with only mild comic exaggerations.

Excepting future comic star Dave Chappelle and the always funny Dom DeLuise, the rest of the cast is a disaster. Richard Lewis looks and acts like a complete fool as Prince John; Amy Yasbeck plays Maid Marian far too sweetly; and Roger Rees seems to ache for an Alan Rickman impersonation as the Sheriff of Rottingham and fails miserably.

Another problem may be that many of the gags and punchlines are simply uninspired and fairly dumb, especially for someone like Mel Brooks. The Sheriff of Rottingham? A character named Ahchoo? Another character named Will Scarlett O'Hara? Are you kidding me? And there is the final scene between the Sheriff of Rottingham and a witch (Tracey Ullman) that is so badly and flatly executed, you'll wonder how a scene like that got lifted from the cutting room floor.

There are some gags that do work. I love the Robin Hood/Little John standoff scene where the bridge extends over a little puddle in a ditch. I also like the rap song of "Men in Tights." It is also a pleasure seeing Mel Brooks playing a Jewish rabbi who offers "half-off" for circumcisions (though this character plus DeLuise's Don Corleone imitation have nothing to do with Robin Hood). There is a delightful surprise of a cameo at the end that mirrors a similar cameo in "Prince of Thieves." And there is one superbly funny bit involving a movie camera as a peeping tom!

The rest of "Robin Hood: Men in Tights" is merely a blandly and monotonously staged retelling of the basic legend of Robin Hood. Sections of the film transpire without a single laugh, some with an occasional chuckle. I didn't completely hate the film but coming from the man who brought us "Young Frankenstein," "Blazing Saddles," "The Producers" and so much more, it is a major flop and still a laughless affair. I think there were better, funnier gags in Kevin Costner's "Robin Hood."

Transparent ghost story

THE FOG (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Following the coattails of "Halloween," writer-director John Carpenter delivered an atmospheric ghost story called "The Fog." What he forgot to do was inject a story of some semblance and weight. It is a ghost story all right, largely transparent.

The movie begins with John Houseman telling a campfire story to a group of kids. His tale is of a ship known as the Elizabeth Dane that shipwrecked in the town of Antonio Bay 100 years earlier. Apparently, there were lepers aboard and they were lured away by the townsfolk, causing them to crash the ship among some rocks. This was not enough for the townsfolk - they stole all the gold on board. Now it is 100 years later and something wicked this way comes. An illuminated fog bank moves in to the town that causes glass breakage, car alarms to go off, gas stations to malfunction, TV sets to turn on by themselves - in short, hysteria has moved in to the town. Nothing is explained and the next day, life moves on. Only the night before, the local priest (Hal Holbrook) finds his grandfather's journal behind a broken rock formation in his church! A local worker (Tom Atkins) picks up a wandering girl (Jamie Lee Curtis) and suddenly their car windows break! And the local deejay (Adrienne Barbeau), who works at a radio station in the lighthouse, starts seeing a fog bank settling in and then disappearing! Her son finds a coin that turns into a wooden block with a written warning!

I was definitely compelled by the first half-hour of "The Fog." But then it is all much ado about nothing. We discover there are ghosts that travel by fog and they were the lepers that were killed a century earlier. Their purpose is to kill the descendants of the town's founding fathers, the ones who stole the gold, yet they randomly kill unrelated citizens of Antonio Bay. And most of the movie centers on that endlessly glowing, rolling fog bank, and watching people prepare for the inevitable. And we get to hear Jamie Lee Curtis scream once, thanks to one of the oldest cliches in the book - a corpse toppling over from nowhere! There are the customary unseen loud knocks on wooden doors! And we get endless scenes of Adrienne Barbeau staring out into the horizon from her lighthouse, watching the fog getting closer and closer. Boo! And Janet Leigh is on hand as the mayor of the town, along with cast members from Carpenter's "Halloween" such as Nancy Loomis as Leigh's secretary/aide and Charles Cyphers as a lonely meteorologist. These actors flow in and out of the narrative without a registering an ounce of personality. Looks to me like everyone is in a foggy state of mind.

"The Fog" has all the hallmarks for a frightening ghost story, but none of the soul or the spirit. I barely cared about any of the paper-thin characters, and when Jamie Lee Curtis can't even keep me awake in a John Carpenter film, you know you're in trouble.

Rosemary, not Damien, Gone Bad

THE OMEN (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2006)

After seeing the remake to the classic 1976 chiller, I must wonder the obvious: what was the point? Even "Superman Returns" felt like "Superman I and 2" revisited, so what exactly does one accomplish by remaking a movie in almost the exact same way without hesitancy? One could ask Gus Van Sant that same question when he unwisely chose to remake or "recreate" "Psycho." Now Rob Zombie is doing the same with "Halloween." When will it stop?

Richard Donner's melodramatic original "Omen" was keenly aware of the evil that exists in the world, and how Damien merely embodies it. Of course, thanks to the sneaky charm and eerieness of black-haired hellraiser Harvey Stephens as the Anti-Christ in that film, Damien seemed unaware of who he was or what power he had (the character discovered it in "Damien: Omen II"). But Stephens possessed something more - an innate ability to portray evil with a smile, a wink, a simple laugh, and some frightening stares (particularly when he's staring at a church he is about to enter). And with the towering and penetrating eyes of the late Gregory Peck as Damien's father, an ambassador, and Lee Remick's wistfulness as Damien's mother, the film, though flawed, had an atmospheric power and beauty like the old Hammer horror flicks, with less emphasis on blood and gore.

This new "Omen" has all the hallmarks of the original, and includes a literal shot-by-shot redo of those bizarre murders perpetrated against those who reveal Damien's actual identity. This film is also desaturated with grimy colors and lots of overcast skies (well, nothing should be too sunny and cheery in the world of "The Omen"). The script is practically lifted from the original as well (I love that cinematic line: "He will lead a life in the world of politics"). But frankly, there is not much more. I do not mind a remake as long as it is improved upon, and there is not much improvement here. The film is squandered by lacking a real dramatic push in the narrative - there is not much urgency. The only urgency is supplied by an offensive opening scene where the Pope and other members of the congregation discuss images of tragedies post-9/11, including tsunamis, Hurricane Katrina and a brief allusion to 9/11. I am no prude but I think it is unnecessary to bring up recent tragedies to stir interest in the coming of the Anti-Christ. Isn't it enough that some child bears the tattoo 666 and could be the son of Satan? Or were the filmmakers inspired by Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell?

Speaking of other inanities, there is the bloodless Seamus Davey-Fitzpatrick as the black-haired Damien who seems ready to smile at the most inappropriate moments. Liev Schreiber in the Peck role isn't badly cast but he doesn't show the determination or will to make things right - someone like Liam Neeson might've been a better choice. Same with Julia Stiles as Damien's mother - she seems completely miscast and indifferent when compared to Remick.

There is one performance that rises above this remake. It is Mia Farrow in the role of the devilish nanny. Her smile and demeanor reminds me of Rosemary Gone Bad. In fact, I'd pay to see a sequel to "Rosemary's Baby" with Farrow reprising one of her most famous roles. There's truly something diabolical about her in this role - something that "The Omen" should've been infused with.

Deadpan, absurdist=Wes Anderson

THE LIFE AQUATIC WITH STEVEN ZISSOU (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I can't believe it. Wunderkind Wes Anderson has done it again. "Bottle Rocket" and "Rushmore" were terrifically rich, spicy Wes Anderson comedies. Then came "The Royal Tenenbaums," a far richer tapestry of black humored situations crossed with a character study of dysfunctional families. Those who might have been put off by the latter's dark tone will revel in the truly hysterical "The Life Aquatic With Steven Zissou," which is as delightful as any comedy I've seen in 2004. To describe it would not do it justice - it is something to experience - but I'll do my best.

Bearded Bill Murray plays the 53-year-old Steven Zissou, an oceanographer, filmmaker and something of a pothead. He has his own ship in dire need of repairs called the "Belafonte," which comes equipped with a yellow submarine. Zissou has gone on expeditions searching for different fish species and filmed them. He has a full crew, including a topless script girl (Robyn Cohen), the anxious German Klaus (Willem Dafoe), a producer named Oseary Drakoulias (Michael Gambon), a guy named Pele who plays the guitar and sings David Bowie songs in Portuguese, and a pair of dolphin guides whom Zissou thinks are less than intelligent. Zissou is world renown but his documentary films are unpopular (they have titles like "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Part I"). At a red-carpeted screening, the audience has no emotional reaction to a real on-screen death. The tragic death is none other than Zissou's French buddy, Esteban du Plantier (Seymour Cassel), who is eaten by a Jaguar Shark! So Zissou's mission is to drag his crew through dangerous waters, confront the shark, kill it and film it as part of his next documentary. But this is no ordinary revenge story. 

Along for the ride is a pregnant reporter, Jane Winslet-Richardson (Cate Blanchett), who is eager to interview Zissou for a cover story. She is easily intimidated by Zissou and even cries at his dismissal of his own achievements and of her lack of reporting skills. Also on board is Zissou's allegedly illegitimate son, Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson), who is an air pilot for Air Kentucky. Ned continuously reminds Zissou that he had written letters to his fan club since he was a kid - is this Ned just an obsessed fan or is he really his son? Zissou is so taken with Ned that he makes him part of the crew, despite the objections of Klaus who sees Zissou as some sort of father figure. Oh, and I shouldn't leave out Eleanor, Zissou's wife (Anjelica Huston), who feels like she doesn't belong to anything except the house she lives on in a private island. There is also cult favorite Bud Cort as the geeky bond stooge.

I am not sure how to describe the effect of "The Life Aquatic" because its charms are so subtle and so minute that it will take more than patience to sit through it. Wes Anderson's films are an acquired taste - either you go with the flow or you'll be submerged in prototypically strange waters. I get his work and am totally attuned to it. His low-key humor and lower-keyed jokes and sight gags are more illuminating than half the Hollywood comedies that need to spell everything out. In the world of this movie, we see pastel-colored fish, angry Filipino pirates, a semi-gay Jeff Goldblum as a rival oceanographer who has an espresso machine, a sleeping vessel attached to the ship where all oceanic wildlife can be seen and admired, glowing jellyfish that wash up on the shore, and so on. Like I said, either you find this funny in terms of how it is set up and delivered, or you don't.

Bill Murray is pitch-perfect as Steve Zissou, accentuating the character's body language and ridiculous attire so well that you forget how absurd it really is. He is often seen wearing a red wool cap and his light blue work clothes, as is most of his crew. Murray brings his dialogue alive with his deadpan comic timing - my favorite scene, among many, is when he walks to every room in his ship while arguing with Ned over his love for Jane, the reporter, who of course has a thing for Ned. What is wonderful about this scene is that the ship looks like a set with the frontal walls cut off, and to hear Murray saying lines like, "Go to bed, you sons of bitches," is to see the extent of the absurdity of the material. What Murray also conveys is Steve Zissou's tiredness - he is tired of his long, waning career and wants to feel a smidgeon of affection again. Ned may be his own salvation. It is further proof that Bill Murray is one of our most underrated actors - check out his scene in the hot air balloon with Cate Blanchett and you'll see what I mean.

Owen Wilson can typically annoy me but his depiction of Ned is truly magnificent. I felt something for Wilson because he shows his hurt and pain for being neglected without making it too obvious - more often, it is reflected in his nearly stoic line readings. And when Steve Zissou fears he is losing him, we feel the genuine pathos between the two. Ned simply wants to be accepted, and wants an admission of his supposed father's guilt over being unacknowledged. All I can say is Wilson does his best work ever - again, the line readings do him justice and he shares solid, magical screen time with Murray.

Cate Blanchett is somewhat wasted as Jane, though she seems to perk up whenever she's on screen with Murray. Willem Dafoe is a bit of a disappointment, if only because I wish there was more of him. Same with the terminally and criminally short appearance by Seymour Cassel, an actor who is worthy of so much more in a Wes Anderson flick.

"The Life Aquatic" is not as great as "Royal Tenenbaums" but how could it be? It is always uniquely funny, charming to the nth degree and full of pathos. There is emotion in there, not just on the surface. Think of  Wes Anderson as our latter-day Hal Ashby - exploring odd ennui with black humor and poignancy. This is something to rejoice about in American cinema, not something to turn away from.

We need help

THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (2001)

 Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(on my list of ten best of 2000 decade)

Understatement is not appreciated much in mainstream America, especially in comedies. It is not enough, for example, for young audiences to chuckle nowadays - they need flatulence and gross-out gags of the "American Pie" variety to laugh. Wit has been replaced by in-your-face gags designed to make you puke. If that is what you love, you know who you are. "Royal Tenenbaums" is a sophisticated, dryly witty, refreshingly understated cinematic miracle in an age where there are so few of its kind. But let me warn you: it is not easy to like or digest because it is so outrageous and morose a film that you may be inclined to walk out of the theater. Do not attempt this or you'll miss out on what is surely a revelatory experience.

Gene Hackman (in one of his finest character roles) plays Royal Tenenbaum, a former litigator who served time in prison and has lived in a hotel on credit for more than twenty years. He is eventually kicked out of the hotel along with his dutiful servant, Pagoda (Kumar Pallana). Royal is a royal pain in the butt, to say the least. He is the estranged father of three prodigal kids who have grown into unhappy, unfulfilled folks. Royal abandoned the kids and his wife, Etheline (Anjelica Huston), and was practically shut out of their lives for seven years after making Margot's birthday party a bust.

The clan of the Royal Tenenbaums might qualify for anti-depressant medication. There is the adopted, morose Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow), a celebrated playwright who is so unhappily married to her husband, Reginald St. Clair (Bill Murray), a scientist, that she spends her time locked in the bathroom with a mini television tied to a radiator. Then there is Chas (Ben Stiller), a frenetic, loopy real-estate dealer whiz who practices fire drills with his two sons ever since his wife died in a fire. Finally, there is the former tennis champion, Richie (Luke Wilson), who sails around the world and dreams of his love for his adopted sister Margot.

In smaller, sharply written roles, there is Danny Glover as Henry Sherman who proposes to Etheline, Owen Wilson as the best-selling novelist of revisionist Westerns who feels connected to the Tenenbaums if only because he is a neighbor, the bellboy Dusty (Seymour Cassel) who pretends to be a doctor rather convincingly, and the aforementioned Pagoda, who once stabbed Royal to save him from himself.

"The Royal Tenenbaums" works on your nerves because the characters are all such emotional wrecks that it makes it hard to endure their existence. Writer-director Wes Anderson ("Rushmore") has not made an outrageous satire by throwing gags left and right with extreme bluntness. Instead, he tones it down, minimizes the exaggeration, and relies on such suggestive twists in his characters that you may not catch all the jokes and puns (I know I had missed a few). Anderson does something far more inspired than creating an ordinary comedy about a dysfunctional family - he makes it hard to know when to laugh or to be sad at the plight of his characters. For a comedy, that can be the kiss of death because it is unlikely to appeal to everyone. Some may mistake it for being too serious or not comedic or droll enough, or not particularly engaging enough to put up with such unlikable eccentrics.

The trick with any film is to make us empathize with the characters, to see their humanity and feel the sadness and joy of their lives. The empathy is tougher to digest in Anderson's world - all his characters refuse to acknowledge their flaws and thus it is frustrating enough to make you wince with pain. You may understand where they are coming from but you may not care because the emotional release is so purposely lacking in the film. And, amazingly enough, I was engaged by Anderson's storytelling and in-depth characterizations that it almost did not matter much whether I cared about them or not. In fact, by the end of the film and much to my surprise, I felt tremendous sympathy for the family, knowing that whatever separates them and angers them, they can still pull together and move on. Two characters admit by the end of the film that they need help.

I cannot imagine a more aptly cast of actors for this film - the wrong actors would have yielded a disaster even under Anderson's hands. Gene Hackman is simply tone perfect as the screwed-up patriarch who is willing to acknowledge his mistakes and wishes to find his way back into the family - they could care less and will not admit to their own mistakes. Anjelica Huston, one of the grand dames of cinema, excels as the emotionally defunct Etheline. Gwyneth Paltrow has such a sad-eyed clown face of despair as Margot that her role will leave you reeling with emotion - a tragedy mask that slowly unveils the hurt and the pain. The two Wilson brothers are also at their best, brimming with the right balance of pain and regret and humor (look at the hilarious footage of Owen Wilson at his last tennis match, throwing his racket to the winds. Contrast that with Wilson in a violent scene in a bathroom and you'll see how smoothly Anderson handles these transitions).

So is "The Royal Tenenbaums" a comedy or a black comedy or what the heck is it? I can't say for sure. I would say it is genre-bending, neither falling too easily in the comedy genre or the dramatic genre. It is comedy and drama but I'd see it another way - it is about pain and repressed emotional energy in a dysfunctional family that has a tough time loving each other. It is a tale told in wicked, blackly comic strokes and, as some critics have pointed out, brings to mind the brilliant author J.D. Salinger. "Royal Tenenbaums" is an original.