The pits for Harrison Ford (and I've seen Hanover Street)

HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally review from 2003)

I thought buddy-buddy cop movies were on the outs. I mean, how many variations can there be on "48 HRS." and "Lethal Weapon"? How many more sequels do we need to such movies, particularly "Bad Boys" (and I do not mean the excellent Sean Penn flick). "Hollywood Homicide" is the latest in the generic, bland, colorless buddy-buddy cop movies, its only major distinction being that it stars Harrison Ford.

Ford plays homicide detective Joe Gavilan, who always orders a cheeseburger while investigating a crime scene. He also has another job as a realtor, though he hasn't sold any real estate in years. The latest teen heartthrob Josh Hartnett ("Pearl Harbor") plays Gavilan's partner, K.C. Kalden, whose other job is as a yoga instructor for young women he can score with. He also has aspirations to be an actor, and his latest role is playing Stanley Kowalsi in a stage version of "A Streetcar Named Desire." But back to the homicide investigation, which deals with the murder of two rap stars at a nightclub. The culprit may be a wealthy rap producer (Isaiah Washington) who wants his clients to stay with his record label - if they don't, they'll be killed. Yawn.

The plot of "Hollywood Homicide" is so run-of-the-mill that I am surprised Ford would agree to star in it, considering his reputation for picking projects carefully. As of late, he has starred in snoozers like "What Lies Beneath" and "Random Hearts" but at least those projects were more in line with Ford's willingness to expand his horizons. This film's plot and characters are so arbitrary that they could have been played by any group of actors. It doesn't help that we are bombarded with stock villains, stock shootings, stock plot, stock dialogue, stock everything. Ford elicits a wink and smile here and there but it seems forced, as if the audience was pleading for him to show the joy that was missing from his work lately. The Joe Gavilan character is laid-back and mimics his sexual prowess by banging against a window (a gag that was more inspired by way of Jason Mewes), but Ford mostly looks bored and listless. Hartnett is so uncharismatic and so devoid of personality that I do not even understand his teen heartthrob status. The two stars are about as inanimate and dull as the movie's formula is. Had the movie been about the aging producer (Martin Landau) who wants to sell his mansion for a firm offer to a nightclub owner, we would have had an original, exciting movie here. It is something that writer-director Ron Shelton ("Bull Durham") could have pulled off perfectly, but instead we are saddled with this extravagant waste of time and talent.

"Hollywood Homicide" may well be Harrison Ford's worst film in years. Now that he is pushing sixty, all I expected to hear was the old cliche, "I am getting too old for this sh--," and I would have been out the theater in a heartbeat.

Van Damme's strange directorial debut

THE QUEST (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"The Quest" is an incomplete, half-hearted martial-arts adventure. For Jean-Claude Van Damme fans, it is passable entertainment that has ambitious higher than most martial arts pics with a 1920's setting, and focuses on a martial-arts competition with different fighting styles implemented. On the other hand, it has a charismatic actor playing a role with not one shred of nuance so that we are left with secondary and tertiary characters that have more variety than its main leading star.

Van Damme injects a dash of "Oliver Twist" into his character, Chris Dubois, a pickpocket in clown face and stilts who is trying to make a better life for a bunch of street urchins. He escapes from the police after one of his urchins steals a bag of money from the mob, and finds himself a stowaway in a ship headed to Asia. He is then sold into slavery by a dapper con-artist and pirate named Lord Dobbs (the always dapper Roger Moore) on an island where Chris learns the art of Muay Thai fighting. Dubois is already fairly accomplished at kicking people in the face and months later, he becomes a pro martial-artist.

Eventually, the story segues to the actual competition in the Lost City of Tibet. Along for the ride is a competitive Gentleman Jim-type (James Remar) heavyweight, and an anxious female reporter (Janet Gunn). Dobbs is along for the ride since he has an avid interest in the Golden Dragon trophy, which he tries to steal by way of a zeppelin! Chris wants to be the champion who takes the trophy and uses it to give a better life to those desperate street urchins. Martial-arts competition ensues and we get several fights, and a ridiculously elongated fight with Chris and an imposing Mongolian fighter (Abdel Qissi) who can literally break his opponents's bodies in half.

"The Quest" is mindless fun and has scenes that make the body quiver and the mind race, such as Van Damme's Chris staring at a Buddha statue! Why was that shot included - was Chris hoping for some peace in his life? I can't say for sure but Van Damme (in his directorial debut) has given himself more close-ups than anyone else in the film. A touch of subliminal romance with the reporter is subdued by all the fight scenes, which are remarkably well-staged and exciting. "The Quest" is beautifully shot but it also bears far too many abrupt transitions - a stunning silhouette looks like a vintage Western composition but Van Damme has no faith in visuals lasting longer than 3 or 4 seconds. Roger Moore and James Remar seemed to be having a hell of a good time playing colorful archetypes from another time. Van Damme still kicks ass. A curious movie but definitely one to see, even if you are not a Van Damme fan.

Vic Morrow's death is a black shroud on the Zone

Vic Morrow's death clouds Twilight Zone: The Movie with dread 

By Jerry Saravia

When I first saw "Twilight Zone: The Movie" on VHS back in 1984, I was floored by it. Being a devoted fan to the Rod Serling series, I enjoyed the heck out of this grisly, cartoonish wild ride of a movie. I am still floored by it, having seen it twice more since, but something gnaws at me. It is the first segment in this sci-fi/horror anthology, the one that fills most people with dread. I am talking about the unfortunate John Landis-directed story that stars the late Vic Morrow.

In the first segment, entitled "Time Out," Vic Morrow plays Bill Connor, a bigoted louse of a man who has been passed over a promotion by a Jewish worker. When speaking out about his depression at a local bar to his friends, Bill spouts racist remarks and slurs without respite until he is interrupted by two black men at a nearby table. Bill leaves the bar and finds himself in WWII Occupied France where he is followed, shot at and attacked by Nazis thinking he is a Jew. Then he finds himself at a KKK rally where he is about to be hung on a tree, then we segue to the Vietnam War and then back to occupied France where he is sent away in a train car to a concentration camp. The original ending was to feature Bill helping two Vietnamese children escape from being killed by bombs - it was to be the character's redemption.

"Time Out" is hardly the most convincing look at racism and it suffers because of its downbeat ending (to be fair, some Serling episodes were downers). The tone of the piece is a little off and there is precious room for irony, mainly because the original ending is not present (for obvious reasons since Morrow and the two Vietnamese kids were killed in a tragic helicopter accident during filming). What really bothers me about this segment (the weakest of the four) is the audacity of the filmmakers to include it in the first place! Some critics at the time took note of it and could not ignore the real-life tragedy - how could you? How can one discuss this segment without mentioning the demise of its key participants? Why couldn't the filmmakers have opted to film some other segment entirely - there are many "Twilight Zone" episodes that could have been remade or perhaps come up with a story from scratch. But by including it, it can't escape its own unintended tragic, despairing dimensions. The whole segment feels vaguely exploitative and in poor taste.

The rest of the "Twilight Zone: The Movie" is terrifically scary and surprisingly tense. Between Spielberg's incandescently warm glow on "Kick the Can" (the only segment that is not horrific), to George Miller's frightening "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet" with John Lithgow as a nervous passenger, to "It's a Good Life" with a devilish kid (far more devilish and evil in the original) who can conjure up cartoon worlds straight from his numerous televisions, "Twilight Zone" is a frenzied nightmare that is hard to shake off. That, and there is Dan Aykroyd in an opening prologue with CCR's "Midnight Special" playing that is sure to make your teeth chatter. Enjoy the film for what it is, and just skip that "Time Out." Vic Morrow would have wanted it that way. 

Success is the rarity; failure is the norm

HEAVEN'S GATE (1980) - What went wrong!

By Jerry Saravia

"Heaven's Gate" first showed signs of life through United Artists. They had faith in its director and their studio had its first shot at actually carving its mark in the industry - an actual film made on their dime where they were primarily known for solely distributing other people's movies. The dime itself was pricey, a 11 million dollar budget ballooning to a hefty 40 million dollar price tag, with the assurance that the director, Michael Cimino, would make a western masterpiece. Cimino was just coming off the box-office success of "The Deer Hunter," a hard-hitting Vietnam picture that won Best Picture and he won his Best Director Oscar. The signs of going overbudget began immediately and Cimino, ever the perfectionist, went overboard with self-imposed delays. Construction of sets, demanding numerous retakes, and waiting for a specific cloud to enter the horizon in one shot were among a host of its problems. It was a relentless studio nightmare.

The result: "Heaven's Gate" was a critical and financial flop, possibly the biggest financial loser in U.S. cinema history. I am not one to pay much attention to a movie's budget yet, as it happened, the critics excoriated the picture for its excessive budget principally - they were ready to hate it. This colossal failure led to a bankrupt studio (Transamerica sold the studio to MGM) and it sullied the career of an egotistical and overpraised director (his last picture was "Sunchaser" in 1996, which went directly to video). The film's reputation even led to Kevin Costner's own directorial debut, a western no less, "Dances With Wolves" to be dubbed "Kevin's Gate" though that proved to be an error in judgment since the film was a box-office smash and won 1990's Best Picture prize.

Most film aficionados are fully aware of the film's disastrous reputation, but is it any good? Is it really as mind-numbingly awful with not a single redeeming feature as New York Daily News critic Kathleen Carroll once declared? Actually, no, but it is predictably overlong (I saw the 2 1/2 hour version). It is often a stirring picture, full of marvelous, meticulous sights of the Old West that go beyond what we might have seen in a John Ford picture...but that is where my praise ends. The film itself is also far too serious, too laid-back and often incomprehensible.

Based on the Johnson County War in Wyoming in the 1890's, the film takes too long to get to the film's inherent conflict. The conflict is between the influx of European immigrants, who came to the U.S. as settlers, and the wealthy cattle barons and the ranchers. In a historical revisionist move by Cimino, mercenaries are hired by ranchers to kill immigrants suspected of stealing cattle (These murders are sanctioned by the Governor of Wyoming, the U.S. Congress and the President of the United States.) At endless board meetings, the mantra spread by the Wyoming Stock Growers Association is that these immigrants are "thieves and anarchists" and 125 of them are placed on a death list. Christopher Walken is Nate Champion, the enforcer who keeps reminding us of another signature line of dialogue towards the immigrants: "Go back where you came from!" Kris Kristofferson is the stoic Marshal of Johnson County, Jim Averill, who tries to make sense of what is happening. Isabella Huppert is the madam of a bordello who loves both Jim and Nate.

My issue is that "Heaven's Gate" is not coherent, not fully shaped at the screenplay level to accommodate an epic running time that initially, during its test screenings for the studio bosses, eclipsed that of "Gone With the Wind." On one hand, it wants to be the tragic story of how America had no interest in competing with immigrants with regards to grazing cattle. Cimino wants to show how racist wealthy white people were, to the point of having Frank Canton (Sam Waterston), the head of the Wyoming Stock Growers Association, shoot an immigrant in the head in plain sight. On the other hand, it wants to be a tragic love story, a romantic triangle with Kristofferson and Walken competing for Huppert's love except Walken has little rapport with Huppert and it is clear Huppert is more in love with Kristofferson (Kris Kristofferson's affections for Ellen Burstyn's Alice in "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore" were far more believable.)

The key word to the bombast of "Heaven's Gate" is ENDLESS. The film is endless - it never comes to a full stop. The movie features an endless prologue at Harvard University that distances us immediately - dust and dirt and amber tones make Harvard look like a university in the middle of the desert. There is an introduction to the graduating classmates who figure later in the story but the intro is nothing earth-shattering, aside from John Hurt's endless speech and many scenes of people dancing in the courtyard. Familiar faces like Jeff Bridges, Terry O'Quinn, Geoffrey Lewis and many others pop up and disappear, spouting incoherent dialogue. Later in the film, we get more dancing and sometimes people in roller skates dance and dance. Then we get violinists who play and play forever. Cimino could have trimmed this movie below a two-hour running time and saved us a lot of endless music and dancing that would've been at home in a Warner Brothers musical western.

Lots of overcast skies and a muddy look and a superbly detailed reconstruction of a long lost era gives "Heaven's Gate" authenticity to be sure, but it is no Altman's "McCabe and Mrs. Miller" (Altman's film was also a bit long too, but a far more rewarding and enriching experience). The biggest tragedy of "Heaven's Gate" isn't its financial loss - it is that it had a lot to say...and none of it ever made it to the screen.  

LaBute Screws us with no rhyme or reason

YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1998)

Neil LaBute is a talented writer and director and I noticed it right away when I saw his directorial debut, "In the Company of Men," a lacerating black comedy about man's inhumanity towards women, and men. I've seen the film twice and I was both shocked and gratified by the film's depiction of its characters, especially the insensitive, insulting Chad, marvelously played by Aaron Eckhart. "Your Friends and Neighbors" is LaBute's second effort, and it is less angry and less intoxicating than it should have been. I am shocked to say this, but LaBute has crafted a fairly, dare I say, tame and flat film of little consequence.

The film begins with people who have no interest in developing healthy relationships with each other. We see the contemptuous, masculine, arrogant Cary (Jason Patric) who prepares for a date by practicing his lines in bed while writhing with faux pleasure. There's also Man (played by Ben Stiller) who tries desperately to please his wife (Catherine Keener) but she doesn't like it when he talks while copulating - "F---ing is not a time for sharing". When she has an affair, she coldly states that the best part of sex is the silence. In retribution, Man pursues another guy's wife (a bland Amy Brenneman), who wants desperately to find a man who can maintain an erection. Brenneman's husband (played by a porcine, mustached Aaron Eckhart) can't seem to satisfy his wife so he masturbates, even while she's in bed - he gets more pleasure from himself than with anyone else. However, when they go shopping together, he insists that the best method of resuscitating their sex life is to "treat each other like meat".

"Your Friends and Neighbors" is LaBute's attempt to show that relationships have no saving grace, and that the partners gradually grow bored with each other. Unfortunately, his characters lack sting and depth - they are glamorous nobodies wafting through their existence with no desire or interest in each other. This is quite a cynical point to make, but LaBute infuses this tale with a static charge that renders everything as flat and monotonous. The movie is devoid of color and humor, and the characters emerge as vapid ciphers. Compare this to Woody Allen's "Manhattan" and "Deconstructing Harry" and you'll see that Woody goes well beyond the primary cynicism - he explores what makes his characters tick.

As a writer, LaBute does have some witty, anarchic moments, though. There is the running gag of an art-gallery assistant (Nastassja Kinski) who stares at the same unseen art object with each of the main characters - they ask her the same questions with the same exact responses. Then there's the undeniably well-cast Jason Patric (doing some of his best work since "After Dark, My Sweet") as the meanest, least likable character since Chad from "In the Company of Men." Patric has two virtuoso scenes: one set in a locker room with his friends where he confesses that a homosexual encounter in high school was the best lay he ever had, and another scene where he mutilates Keener with such piercing words that she is reduced to tears - an interesting scene because it shows that Keener may not be such a frigid woman after all.

Beyond some frank sexual talk and manners, "Your Friends and Neighbors" is dull to sit through and the characters are ill-defined and impossible to care about. LaBute is still a talent to watch for but he needs to imbue his characters with some degree of humanity so that his dialogue can cut some fairly deep wounds in all of us. "In the Company of Men" could have been a sick joke about teasing a deaf woman and then dumping her for the sake of revenge, but LaBute was after bigger game and revealed some strong character personalities. "Your Friends and Neighbors" is about people who screw each other with no rhyme or reason. It's just a sick joke.

1977: The Year Hollywood Changed

THE GEORGE LUCAS WARS: 

EPISODE I - ATTACK OF THE FILM SNOBS

By Jerry Saravia (Reprinted and updated from original reocities.com essay from 2005)

I must confess that...wait a minute. Why confess? "Star Wars" was a part of my life from 1977 to 1983. I collected the numerous action figures, the ships, the Topps collectible cards, the posters, the bedsheets, etc. I want to say that Martin Scorsese, Ingmar Bergman and Akira Kurosawa were the backbone of my collective filmic childhood, but why lie about it? When I first saw "Star Wars" in 1977, it not only shaped and framed my childhood - it pretty much represented it. When I finally saw "Return of the Jedi" in 1983, it was pretty much over me. The Star Wars universe came to a close and I already discovered Ingmar Bergman and Luis Bunuel at the now defunct Biograph in New York. Besides, I have always been a bigger Indiana Jones fan than a Luke Skywalker fan.

Therefore, to hear complaints over the past decade from the elitist film snobs on the Internet and abroad that Lucas is responsible for the declining quality of American cinema, the dumbing-down of cinematic blockbusters, offends me because he is not responsible for making films dumber. The filmmakers who decided to copy Lucas's formula (which was already borrowed from Tolkien and Kurosawa, to name a couple of influences) and create their own versions of sci-fi spectaculars are partly to blame, as is the audience who clamored for pure entertainment and nothing more.

But let's go back to 1977 for a moment. "Star Wars" was more than just a movie - it was an event. It transcended everything we thought was fun about movies. It was also the first true blockbuster that became a powerhouse of a phenomenon, more so than even "The Wizard of Oz" or "Jaws," the first official blockbuster minus the merchandising. Even those who disliked George Lucas's first space opera opus would be remiss if they didn't admit they knew who Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Chewbacca, Princess Leia and Obi-Wan Kenobi were. For better or worse, thanks to intense marketing and merchandising, "Star Wars" was a ubiquitous hit. It also became the controversial name of a missile program spearheaded by the late former President Reagan. And to no one's surprise, the film spawned two sequels, a prequel trilogy and several rip-offs. ("Ice Pirates," anyone?)

But something else happened in 1977. At a time when the country was just getting over Vietnam and Watergate, socially conscious Hollywood films became something of a hindrance at the box-office - why spend millions on an independent director's personal vision when you could have mega-escapist entertainment instead that would satisfy the child in all of us? Of course, George Lucas was already an independent filmmaker prior to "Star Wars." He scored a direct hit with "American Graffitti" and failed to attract an audience with one of his most profound, experimental films, "THX-1138." "Star Wars" was seen as a gamble, and yet it is a personal vision by Lucas. The difference was that it was a populist vision, one that could attract the mainstream. It was about the old-fashioned ideals of good and evil. It was the world we could dream of, not an existential vision where good and evil were difficult to separate. No, Lucas made an updated, operatic version of the Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon Republic serials of yesteryear. Unfortunately, this meant the demise of the New School of Thought as perpetrated by distinct directors such as Martin Scorsese, William Friedkin, Francis Ford Coppola, Hal Ashby, John Milius and many more - directors who sought to inform us with their personal visions of the corrupt world they live in. By the time the grand folly that destroyed a studio arrived, Michael Cimino's highly uneven yet beautiful dusty film "Heaven's Gate," it was the end of the independent vision backed by Hollywood. How ironic that Lucas financed his own "Star Wars" movies and made them the way he saw fit with the help of distributor Twentieth Century Fox. Many kill for financial control - Orson Welles suffered seeking it - and so Lucas was, by his own admission as self-financier, an independent film director.

So did George Lucas destroy cinema? I wouldn't say that is correct - cinema may be dying to some (an erroneous suggestion when you consider there are still some great films made - "American Hustle" is a masterpiece) but it is not destroyed. There's nothing inherently wrong with an astoundingly entertaining movie like "Star Wars" but there is more to film than to just entertain. The audience fell for the idea that only escapism should inform their Friday night experience, not socially relevant films or Scorsesean outlooks on the mean streets of New York. No, since the advent of "Star Wars," the audience got hooked on happy endings, explosions in THX sound format, bullets ripping through the air while Stallone or Schwarzenegger flexed their muscles and bared their chests, simple, uncomplicated romances, and so on. These statutes of limitations informed the 1980's and went on through the politically correct 1990's. The audiences got spoiled - a happy ending for "Pretty Woman" was accepted, a dark ending wouldn't have been. Bruce Willis fought terrorists and saved his wife and his marriage in the process as John McClane in the "Die Hard" series. Just when you thought that 1994's groundbreaking "Pulp Fiction" would reawaken the action film genre to new heights by infusing it with noirish attitudes, we got the same old song the following year with "Die Hard With a Vengeance" and a slew of Steven Seagal flicks. Summer action blockbusters continued (don't forget director Michael Bay and the return of James Bond as Pierce Brosnan and more recently Daniel Craig), comedies leveled their humor with gross gags such as "There's Something About Mary" and "Austin Powers," and teenagers flocked to "Scream" and the numerous knockoffs as well as "American Pie" and their own kin. Are we still blaming Lucas? Possibly, but cinema is not gone.

And then came 1999's "Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace," which was a huge success and a major disappointment for fans. Lucas created such a backlash with the return to his popular universe that it was assumed to be the biggest disappointment in cinema history (Didn't "Scarlett," the TV sequel to "Gone With the Wind," qualify as a bigger dud?) Never mind the much maligned Jar-Jar-Binks character, considered the biggest and most inexcusable flaw in the film, or a young Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker screaming "Yippee!" every two seconds or the appearance of far too solemn Jedi Knights, including Samuel L. Jackson as the wise Mace Windu, or the occasional creature in Tatooine that would fart or step on feces. "Phantom Menace" was seen as troubling because fans and presumably audiences were expecting a state of nirvana that would return them to 1977. Except this was 1999 and perhaps many of us who were tots in the 70's outgrew "Star Wars" - we all became adults since those days and wouldn't have expected Lucas to make this universe so new and groundbreaking all over again. Of course, Han Solo, Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker didn't return because the new movies were prequels - our favorite characters weren't even born yet! Somehow, the audacious sight of seeing Yoda holding a lightsaber or the knowledge that Darth Vader built C3PO or that the future Vader was slightly wimpy was considered sacrilegious. And I thought the Ewoks were offensively inane and that Harrison Ford looked quite stoned in "Return of the Jedi." I don't think I am alone in saying that "The Empire Strikes Back" is not only the greatest "Star Wars" film ever, but also one of the finest action-adventure films ever made. Obviously, those who held the original trilogy (Episodes 4, 5 and 6) as the Holy Trilogy were not going to have their high expectations met in any regard.

Special-effect fantasies set in space have multiplied since the original "Star Wars," both on television and in theatres. From TV's "Battlestar Galactica" to movies like "Stargate" and "Alien" and beyond, almost every year has spawned numerous sci-fi space operas, sci-fi adventures and sci-fi dramas. For every new Star Trek series and "Star Trek" sequel, there's been "Blade Runner," "Dark City," "Independence Day," "I, Robot," "Minority Report," "Terminator" franchise, "Moonraker" (the only Bond film set in space), heck, even "The Matrix" trilogy. Aliens of all sizes and shapes have appeared on screen and CGI technology has sparked the illusion of newer and denser worlds. How the hell can "Star Wars" compete with all that except to utilize what has already been deemed old-hat? CGI effects don't have the grandeur or sense of nightmarish intensity that handmade, practical sets do - "Lord of the Rings" trilogy is an exception.

Many erroneously assumed that "Star Wars" worked because of the special-effects. Others will contend that the characters were what made it so memorable. And so to accuse the new "Star Wars" films of having stilted dialogue, wooden characterizations and too much (or too little) plot is to forget that the original film trilogy is no less guilty of the same charges. The reviled "Phantom Menace" spends its time developing its origins of Anakin Skywalker and some of it is pure fun to watch, including the Pod Race. "Attack of the Clones" spends time on the developing romance between Anakin and former Princess Amidala. I suppose that was too dull a romance for many, preferring action, spectacle and last-minute rescue attempts every two minutes. Amazing that the original "Star Wars: Episode IV" was considered too fast-paced in 1977 - now, it is a model of narrative storytelling (Reportedly, the fantastic "Raiders of the Lost Ark" is even taught at film universities). MTV and remote controls have had an adverse effect on populist cinema, not George Lucas.

I like the prequel trilogy, and consider "Episode III" to be the best damn "Star Wars" film since "The Empire Strikes Back." I think George Lucas is a fine filmmaker and hope he makes those experimental films he's been planning all along. "Star Wars" will never go away and Lucas may fiddle and tinker with his original trilogy until the day he dies, though that may be tough to do since Disney now owns all the rights. But he is no destroyer of cinema - someone who embraces it shouldn't be charged with destroying it. We can't blame him for the remakes of "Dukes of Hazzard," "Amityville Horror," "Guess Who," "The Honeymooners," "Poltergeist" and the rash of wannabe brainless blockbusters, can we? (We can blame him for "Howard the Duck.") We shouldn't blame him for unwarranted happy endings and the dumbing-down of cinema, should we? No, the audience is to blame and now, in 2015, there is some insatiable need for superheroes and more remakes. Even Schwarzenegger and Stallone, our former action heavyweights, are having a tough time finding an audience nowadays, and that is saying something. For better or worse, Scorsese, Friedkin, Bogdanovich and many other 70's brats are thankfully still working in the Hollywood industry. I've learned that there's more to life than "Star Wars" - as of now, it is more nostalgia for me than anything else. It might be for George Lucas as well.

Check your fun at the door with prehistoric beasties

JURASSIC WORLD (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

1993's "Jurassic Park" was a tremendous thrill ride of a movie, a literal walk in the park with dinosaurs - some friendly, some not so friendly. What also made the movie were the colorful characters, a motley crew of scientists who saw this park as a troubling future capitalist venture. I recall the chaos theory mathematician, Dr. Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum), arguing about the ethics of bringing back dinosaurs to the late Richard Attenborough's Dr. Hammond - Sam Neill and Laura Dern were on hand as paleontologists who were in agreement with Malcolm. Granted, Michael Crichton's book was more in-depth and brutal but the original film had the humor and fright factor down pat. Sequels came and went, though Spielberg's own "The Lost World" was a decent flick with an ecological theme of preserving the dinos' habitat. The third film, the less said the better. This new "Jurassic World" has no real distinction or novelty and the surprise is that, though superior to the third film, it has little fright value and almost no sense of humor.

Jurassic World is the literal name of a fully functioning theme park with real, live dinosaurs. The theme park is on an island, Isla Nublar, the very same Costa Rican one from the first film. Bryce Dallas Howard is Claire Dearing who is on board this dino theme park as its operations manager, hungering to fulfill the audience's demands for bigger, louder dinosaurs! Apparently, she casually mentions a poll that people attending this park don't want the same old, same old. This might be the screenwriters' (five of them, this time) own ironic commentary on audiences that attend this movie - bigger and louder don't necessarily mean better. But these are real dinosaurs in the world of this movie - how much better can it be than to see creatures from a prehistoric time. Naturally, the genetics lab has bred a new kind of dinosaur, part raptor and part T-Rex, called the Indominus Rex. It is a ferocious 50-foot creature that is smarter than most humans. The raptors are also smarter and quicker yet they can be tamed, thanks to Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) who is capable of holding them at bay.

Naturally, things go awry at Jurassic World. Indominus Rex runs loose around the park, and has camouflaging capabilities. Pterosaurs break free and fly from their own domed enclosure, snatching up the park's customers and flinging them in the air. There is also a Mosasaurus, an aquatic prehistoric lizard that eats a shark for the spectators, sort of a bloodthirsty take on the Orca. Interestingly, there is not as much dino action as you might think. We are mostly saddled with Chris Pratt's rather bland heroic gestures and his zero rapport with Bryce Dallas Howard - both deserve better scripts. There are secondary and tertiary characters introduced who give us a little background and off they go before some get chomped by raptors and such. The most fascinating character is Vincent D'Onofrio as Vic Hoskins, the villainous head of security operations who was hoping for the shite to hit the fan. Why? Military applications of raptors in a time of war, that is why. Sadly, his character's own dinos-in-the-military ideas are never explained. When one scene shows the terror of these Pterosaurs wrecking havoc, all he can do is stand back and smile. Huh? B.D. Wong is also back, the only returnee from the original "Jurassic Park" series, as the geneticist who has conspired to create a monster with "more teeth." Also on board for dino bait are Claire's nephews who mistakenly travel in a gyrosphere (a sphere-shaped ride on wheels) through the thick of the jungle despite the red alerts.

The main flaw is that director Colin Trevorrow (who is no Steven Spielberg) doesn't offer much in the way of suspense or genuine thrills, even for a silly monster movie. The movie coasts along but it has no real momentum and no sequence is ever shaped well enough to induce the heebie-jeebies. Spielberg could craft one of these in his sleep but he also gave you goosebumps and real terror. Not one scene in this film comes a tenth close to the T-Rex rampage from the original. Pauline Kael once said it best about Spielberg - "Great Spielberg action is so brilliant it spooks you." "Jurassic World" doesn't have enough jeopardy, inspire much awe or wonder, and has no real moral dilemmas about the existence of a theme park even on the most rudimentary level - basically no real ideas at all. It is not just a movie where you check your brain at the door. It is a check-your-fun-at-the-door type movie too.