Cloning to the infinite power

THE 6TH DAY (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There are great Arnold Schwarzenegger movies ("The Terminator I and II") and there are good ones ("Commando," "The Running Man" and "Total Recall") and there are decent flicks ("Red Heat"). Then there are outright atrocities and fair near-misses like "Eraser." "The 6th Day" belongs in the near-miss category. It has a great timely concept that fails to deliver on its very own potential.

Directed by Roger Spottiswoode ("Tomorrow Never Dies"), "The 6th Day" stars Schwarzenegger as Adam Gibson, a pilot who flies skiers to a distant resort. His partner is Hank (the dependable Michael Rappaport) and both are owners of Double-X Charters. Since this story is set in the not-so-distant future, Adam also has a remote that can activate a helicopter to fly without a pilot. One day, Hank stands in for Adam and flies a rich, powerful man, Drucker (Tony Goldwyn), to the distant ski resort until trouble ensues and everyone is killed by some skier armed with a laser gun. Apparently, Adam was to be killed, not Hank. It turns out that Adam's life is about to turn upside down when he discovers that his wife and daughter are living with an exact double of Adam! Welcome to the world of cloning, which is outlawed in the future except for animals and if you are caught cloning a human, you are subject to a stiff jail sentence and destruction of the clone. But Drucker and other assorted villains are always cloning themselves so in essence, the bad guys never actually die - there is always a replacement. Adam now has to contend with Drucker and his henchmen and a forlorn cloning scientist, Dr. Weir (Robert Duvall), who has his doubts about the future of this immoral experiment. But why did they clone Adam?

"The 6th Day" begins promisingly with a wonderfully imaginative scenario, and there are plenty of nifty ideas throughout. We are shown that in the future cars can drive by themselves, lifelike dolls can communicate similar emotions like a young child (though the one doll shown might make younger kids scream), you can order groceries through computerized refrigerators (which you can do now), and someone like Hank can have a virtual girlfriend who will do anything to please him. Yes, yes, we have seen some of these ideas before, the latter being the basis for "The Lawnmower Man," but rarely so engagingly or matter-of-factly.

The movie's basic theme is Frankenstein revisited, bringing up the moral questions of what happens when you bring back the dead. If someone is cloned, is the person still human and does he/she have a soul? And how does one separate one clone from the next, and what would it be like for a clone to co-exist with the original model? Such good ideas are introduced but left asunder in favor of plenty of laser gun fights and car chases galore. "The 6th Day" never bothers to explore the questions it presents. There are glimmers of the movie's theme occasionally, particularly in the touching scenes between Duvall's Weir and his dying wife who had been cloned once before. But it is hard to get a handle on Schwarzenegger's Adam who seems to be doing heavy breathing throughout and little else. The screenplay never allows much focus on Adam's family, who are left skirting the edges of the movie's blowout action scenes. Arnie still has the steely presence he always had but lacks the vigor and humor he usually brings to his roles. His last sentimental scene is a travesty and emotionally off-kilter when you consider one of the unsurprising twists in the movie's latter half.

The villains themselves are so threadbare that I could have cared less about them or their plight. They die, they are cloned, they die and they are cloned again. Big deal. Goldwyn's Drucker never seems like a real threat - the actor was a more convincing villain in "Ghost." Poor Michael Rooker played an exasperated assassin who also does a lot of heavy breathing but never seems involved.

"The 6th Day" is overlong and padded with excessive action scenes but it never actually takes flight. Don't get me wrong - there is some imagination at work here. It's just that with all the right tools and all the right notes, it never reaches fruition.

We are all f***ed up!

THE MILLION DOLLAR HOTEL (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in April 10th, 2002)

"The Million Dollar Hotel" is the kind of film that is suffused with fantastic imagery, splendid cinematography, offbeat atmosphere and frankly little else. It's a film to feast the eyes but not the heart. Plainly put, Wim Wenders' new film flies off of the handle so often you wonder if it will ever sit to ponder. It never does.

Based on a story idea by good old Bono, "The Million Dollar Hotel" is set in the year 2001 in L.A., focusing on a fleabag hotel called The Million Dollar Hotel (the site of Bono's music video "Where The Streets Have No Name.") Apparently, a peculiar hotel guest named Izzy Goldkiss (Tim Roth) jumped off the roof of the hotel, but could he have been murdered or did he commit suicide? That is what an unlikable FBI agent (Mel Gibson) is out to discover, and not with the help of these hotel misfits. The most notable is a slow-witted, naive punk (Jeremy Davies) who is in love with a woman (Milla Jovovich) who claims she is not real - she is fiction, a nobody.

And that may be the problem with "Million Dollar Hotel" overall. These characters are shallow misfits with no interesting personalities or remarkable insights. Actors such as Jimmy Smits, Gloria Stuart and Peter Stormare (as a supposedly fifth Beatle) run through the screen without making much of an impression. It is like watching a wax museum of fuzzy, anonymous portraits with no pulse. However, it is nice to see Stuart cussing up a storm with the film's one memorable line: "We are all f***ed up!"

What saves the film somewhat is the tender love story between Davies and Jovovich, though it does become tedious after a while. I also liked Mad Mel who is far more restrained than usual, resembling the Frankenstein monster with scars in his back and sporting a neck brace. The slow pacing and long takes are often breathtaking (sometimes recalling Wenders' own "Wings of Desire.") The songs by Bono are pointed and haunting, and the film does fascinate. It just doesn't involve us.

Finding Rosebud in Kubrick Estate

STANLEY KUBRICK'S BOXES (2008)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The genius of a film director like Stanley Kubrick can't be easily explained away. Most film directors give much insight into their work habits, stories that interest them, their driving impulses, and their themes in interviews. Kubrick revealed precious little, only what stirred his interest in making films but not necessarily revealing the source of ambiguity. Director and author Jon Ronson wants to uncover the mystery of the man himself, the rosebud that will help explain his genius. He may come close but most viewers will still be perplexed by the obsessive nature of this legendary director.

"Stanley Kubrick's Boxes" shows us the mini-warehouse at the Kubrick Estate (since moved to the University of the Arts in London) where Kubrick's boxes are legion. There are various photographs and stills from pre-production of "Eyes Wide Shut" and "A Clockwork Orange." There are also newspaper ads of his first-run theatrical releases where the measurements of the ads were in fact smaller than what the advertisers promised. Tony Frewin (assistant to Kubrick for more than thirty years) reveals how the box manufacturer was called to help make boxes that had lids that fit just right. There are also fascinating snippets involving boxes that held letters from fans, and crank letters of people who might assassinate Kubrick or people he at least considered somewhat dangerous! One so-called crank letter came from a writer named Vincent Tilsley who wrote to Kubrick after being disappointed with "2001" and with having his six-hour tv-movie "The Death of Adolph Hitler" truncated to less than 2 hours - Tilsley wanted to be in the Kubrick rank of great filmmakers (the writer later quit and became a psychotherapist).

Aside from fan letters, one fan actually made a video called "Shining Clockwork" which parodied Kubrick by having an actor play Kubrick who is paralyzed by some diehard fans who were disappointed with "The Shining." The videographer managed to contact Kubrick by phone and simply asked if the director received the videotape. Stanley said he did, and that was the end of that conversation.  

Most troubling are the stills shown from a Kubrick film that never was, "Aryan Papers," a Nazi Holocaust film adapted from a book entitled "Wartime Lies." According to Kubrick's widow, Christiane Kubrick, Stanley gave it up because the story depressed him (in the enlightening documentary, "A Life in Pictures," Christiane further stated that Stanley felt he couldn't pretend such a horrid tale of one of the worst human catastrophes of the 20th century). However, according Mr. Frewin, preproduction of the film lasted two years so when did Stanley have a change-of-heart, or is it because of Steven Spielberg's "Schindler's List" that was released around the same time? The mind boggles.

"Boxes" is indelibly fascinating and absorbing as it pores over Kubrick's boxes and the treasures Ronson uncovers. There is everything from memos dictating the similarities between TV's "Space: 1999" and "2001," to found film footage showing Kubrick behind-the-scenes of "Full Metal Jacket" deciding how many tea breaks there can be in one day. Though Ronson might think he has found his Roseud, Kubrick is still a man of mystery with more quirks and eccentricities than even Bob Dylan. That may be the way Stanley wants to leave it.

Shelleys' swim in Russell's stinky swamp

GOTHIC (1986)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Ken Russell's "Gothic" is one of the crudest, most excessively overwrought, unimaginably worst films ever made - a travesty of the memory of Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, Lord Byron and anyone else involved in that hallucinatory evening back in the summer of the early 1800's. Yes, the film purports to be about that evening but I am sure it was a lot classier and civilized than Russell's version of it.

Not to say that it was not a sexual, druggy romp for all involved, as I am sure it was, but this often looks like wild outtakes from "Woodstock" crossed with "Caligula." Natasha Richardson is the tranquil Mary Shelley, Julian Sands is the laudanum addict Percy Shelley, and Gabriel Byrne is the laughably miscast, brutish, devilish Lord Byron, in exile at the Villa Diodati where all the hanky-panky takes place. Also on hand is the highly loony Dr. Polidori (Timothy Spall) and Mary's stepsister (Miriam Cyr), who all indulge in debauchery (free love as Percy calls it) and hallucinatory fever dreams where reality and fiction sort of cross over. There are snakes (a typical Russell visual), corpses, stillborn babies, hands puncturing nails, abortions and lots of sex. The question is that in all of Russell's mishmash of fiery, bloody images, when did Mary creatively think of her idea for "Frankenstein" or Polidori think of his "Vampyre" story? The film only shows the hallucinations but precious little time is invested in any of the characters. They are vapid, one-dimensional cartoons in Russell's universe, and the fact that these literate minds read horror stories to each other during a brutal thunderstorm is only barely hinted at. It's all fire and brimstone played to the hilt, and likely to bore anyone to tears who is not interested in a Heavy Metal music video with Thomas Dolby's overused electronic score groping for our attention.

"Gothic" has the stylish look of a rock video but none of the atmosphere or subtlety of a Universal horror flick. It sputters, spits itself out in stylistic strokes and tries to thrill us with nightmarish overkill, but it ultimately fails to enlighten. I admired some of Russell's other visionary trips but "Gothic" is strictly subterranean junk.

Schwarzenegger's vanity production

LAST ACTION HERO (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in 1993 - why did I see this in a theater?)

Overbudgeted, useless, unimaginative and crude to the nth degree. The description is so apt for "The Last Action Hero," a truly moronic piece of garbage that stinks and spews vomit. Yes, it is that awful. Released in 1993, the film was doomed to be a fiasco. But not even action director John McTiernan can make any sense of the horribly boring story he has to direct. When the formidable and once exciting director of "Die Hard" can't even keep the audience awake, you know you are watching a vanity production of the worst kind.

The premise is promising. Arnold Schwarzenegger is the action movie hero, Jack Slater, whom a young kid named Danny (Austin O'Brien) loves. Danny has seen the Jack Slater flicks numerous times, and can't wait to see the new installment, unoriginally titled "Jack Slater IV." Danny's only friend is Nick (Robert Prosky), a ticket usher who gives the boy the opportunity to see a sneak preview of the latest Jack Slater flick, thanks to a "magic ticket." All fine and dandy, until at some point, Danny is magically inserted into the adventure in "Purple Rose of Cairo"-style. We learn in the movie world that obscenities cannot be uttered, that all phone numbers start with the prefix "555," and that teenage girls can deliver kung-fu kicks with style. We also see glimpses of Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" mode and Robert Patrick from "Terminator 2," not to mention an animated feline and "48 HRS.'s" own Frank McRae as a similarly loud lieutenant. Eventually, the plot requires Danny to take Jack Slater into the real world, which is of course so different from the movies. And wait until Jack discovers he is played by Arnold Schwarzenegger!

The postmodern concept is terrific in hindsight, particularly in focusing on the tired shenanigans of your average police action thriller. Director McTiernan and screenwriter Shane Black unwisely choose not to exploit the concept for what it is worth. The attempt is to deconstruct the cliches of the action movie genre, but "Last Action Hero" has no sense of fun in doing this. Gags are thrown at you, left and right, but mostly we are saddled with explosions galore and endless fight scenes with no pacing or style. It is as if the director was tired of the genre and showed how tired he was by making every scene as flat as possible.

Worse still, the movie does not make enough of a distinction between reality and fantasy. And when we learn that the magic ticket can bring any character out of a movie into the real world, it does not exploit its own clever conceit. We get the chess-playing Death from Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" leaving for the real world, which is not as funny as it sounds since it arrives as nothing less than a deus ex machina. How about those Universal Monsters, a dinosaur, Travis Bickle, or even the Terminator? No, "Last Action Hero" doesn't go the extra mile - it assumes its clever premise is enough.

The truth is this premise was handled with more wit and imagination in "The Purple Rose of Cairo" and Buster Keaton's own "Sherlock, Jr." Those films exploited the idea of reality vs. fiction and used it as a gimmick to tell a real story. "Last Action Hero" wrongly assumes that presenting an idea is enough without exploring it. It is saying something when the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man parading around New York City in the original "Ghostbusters" was both spookily funny and scary at the same time - qualities that would have elevated "The Last Action Hero" but it is too prideful to do so.

So we are further saddled with Anthony Quinn, Charles Dance and Tom Noonan as threadbare villains - the kind you may not find in an Arnie action pic. Austin O'Brien is a nice enough kid but with no distinctive traits outside of an obsession with Jack Slater. Mercedes Ruehl shows up as Danny's mother and has a nice scene with Arnie, but is barely given much to do. There are some curious homages to Laurence Olivier (including featuring Olivier's widow, Joan Plowright) and Hamlet, but nothing musters anything resembling a smile. The movie rings flat and antiseptic in every scene - I got the impression that nobody had any fun making this movie. And there is an inexplicable scene where Danny is threatened by some oily burglar in his own apartment building that leads nowhere.

"The Last Action Hero" was noticeably a troubled production with last minute reshoots at the 11th hour (and extensive script rewrites). It was designed as Arnie's own comment to the industry and to parents that he could make family-friendly pictures (Did anyone really want a family friendly PG-13 Arnie action pic?) It's as if he needed to apologize for making action films that emphasized the action, such as "Predator" or "Commando." From occasional missteps in his career to fun-filled action pics like "True Lies" to being Governor of California, Schwarzenegger has been on shaky ground ever since "The Last Action Hero." I think he should apologize for forcing us to endure it.

Pulpy, cold-blooded fiction

TRUE ROMANCE (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

After admiring "Pulp Fiction" as the classic, revisionist pulp noir story that it was, I looked back at "Reservoir Dogs," which I had initially panned, and found it to be just as profane but also blackly comical and superbly tantalizing. Having said that, I still find "True Romance" to be hackneyed at best, a production written by Tarantino and directed with a bulldozer by Tony Scott. This is yet another example of a parable about crooked, one-dimensional drug dealers, pimps and cops but done with nary the style or witty dialogue that later became a trademark of Tarantino's after "Pulp Fiction."

"True Romance" stars Christian Slater as greasy-haired Clarence, a comic-book, kung-fu aficionado who one day meets a sweet-tempered hooker (played by the fabulous Patricia Arquette). When Clarence falls in love with her (after making love in his comic-book store), he decides to take her away from her Rastafarian-wannabe pimp (played by Gary Oldman), and all ends in a killing spree that leaves these two unlikely lovers on the run. The cops and the mob are now after this "Bonnie and Clyde" twosome now that they inadvertently stole a briefcase of cocaine worth a half-million dollars and killed Oldman's pimp.

"True Romance" is well-directed by Tony Scott ("Top Gun"), but the whole affair rings as hollow, meaningless and stupid. I do not object to four-letter words but Tarantino uses them without the punch and jab of truth as he has shown later on - these lowlifes just merely curse their heads off. The violence is overdone and far too cartoonish with the exception of one harrowing scene - the vicious, bloody beating of Arquette - that is as realistic and titillating as they come. This one scene shows the promise that Tarantino had in mind.

There are some fun character bits by Brad Pitt as a dopehead, Michael Rapaport as an actor who claims to have worked on the set of "T.J. Hooker," and the respectable work of reliable pros like Tom Sizemore and James Gandolfini. The best scene in "True Romance" is between Actor's Studio pros Dennis Hopper and Christopher Walken. Hopper plays Clarence's father, an ex-cop, who is about to die at the hands of Walken's mob chieftain. Hopper explains the ancestral lineage of Italian gangsters that goes as far back as the blacks in Africa, and it is such a tense, electrifying scene that it remains a classic of its own in true Tarantino fashion.

"True Romance" has some fine moments, but its overall effect is numbing and cold-blooded to the core. As well-made as it may be, it manages to leave out the humanity that was so central to Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" and "Jackie Brown." Not a boring film overall but never truly enticing either.

Which way to the nearest exit?

WHICH WAY IS UP? (1977)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I love Richard Pryor when he plays slightly against type, as in "Blue Collar" or even "Jo, Jo Dancer." The problem may be that he can act and play it straight but needs the right material and, frankly, a remake of Lina Wertmuller's "The Seduction of Mimi" is not the best choice.

"Which Way is Up?" stars Pryor as Leroy Jones, an incompetent California orange-picker who inadvertently stands up for the little guy - a labor union (Unions were often the subject of films in the 1970's like "F.I.S.T" and "Norma Rae"). Pretty soon Leroy is forced out of town, away from his family, unemployed, until he finds work as a contract painter. He's also smitten with Vanetta (Lonette McKee), who asks him to not make love with anyone except her. Before you know it, Leroy has climbed up the corporate ladder as a foreman. He also has to juggle two lives, one with Vanetta from the city (whom he does marry), and one with his wife from his hometown (Margaret Avery). Before long, the movie's plot gets frenzied when his wife has a baby with the local Reverend, and Vanetta has a baby as well whom Leroy raises (the movie makes it clear that years have passed since he raises the child, and the story completely ignores his hometown wife). Oh, and there's the matter of Sister Sarah, corporate guys in limos waving their shiny, sparkling rings, and Pryor's old pal and co-writer for his stand-ups, Paul Mooney, in a very brief role.

I admire the intentions in "Which Way is Up?" and I do admire Pryor's acting, especially playing three different roles (his role as Rufus Jones, Leroy's father, is hilarious even if it smacks of minstrel stereotyping). The fault lies with the fact that not much of this film is funny - director Michael Schultz uneasily blends comedy with drama punched up with some form of social injustice. But is it ultimately a film about corrupt unions, infidelity, religious hypocrisy, or a showcase for Pryor's comic talents? Hard to say since it doesn't fully accomplish any of its goals due to strained humor and often lackluster direction. I suppose the key to it is that when Leroy used to be a hero for the little guy, he has sold out to "the Man."

Still, the film kept me somewhat involved since I only wanted to see how this mess would end. "Which Way is Up?" is not a spectacularly bad film but it is uneven, uncertain and only contains one or two good chuckles. Forget up or down, which way is it to the nearest exit?