Disregard the generic story and workmanlike direction as this isn’t worthy of recommendation aside from one factor: the ever perplexing, permanently dazzling presence that is Nicolas Cage. Star (or feature attraction) of what must be 4,000 movies, he transforms the mediocre into the mediocre … with a cherry (Cage) on the top.
And David Caruso appears in a leading role. He lost his way in that regard but he’s okay in this.
Talk about intensity (quiet and loud) from two leads – Jackman and Gyllenhaal not so much as going mano a mano but progressively losing their shit over the shared aim of finding the kidnapped.
Suburbia’s manky underbelly gets the full dissection here, law enforcement a rule-bend away from a jeopardised case. A despairing movie full of anguish and desperation, it’s not exactly a date-night gig with pizza and nibbles.
But that’s life.
The dialogue in this shitter was so bad – every goon spoke from the Brit gangster heyday, that putrid cesspool of movie tat.
The coarseness of the characters, their shamelessness, was just revolting, and Ray Winstone was truly terrible in this film, a Phil Mitchell impression that would belong in Stella Street. But let’s not delve into it too much as he’s usually more than reliable, sometimes dynamite.
Remember Heat (1995)? The bank robbery imitation is desperate in this stinker. It was unbearable viewing in a manky film that went on and on and on and on and reached such imaginative levels that “fack” or “facking” had to be inserted in the middle of every sentence. Example: “Stay in your facking rooms!” shouted by an armed cop.
It was annoying as fuck/fack.
And Brick Top from Snatch (2000) is in it.
Remake of the Sam Peckinpah half-decent flick from 1972, more famous for its tales-from-the-set production of booze chucked between production staff and off-screen hanky-panky than the actual thrills. It’s a decent movie, but I wouldn’t recommend it to a human being with a brain.
This was almost unwatchable.
The protagonist shows his own bank-robbing wife a gun as if she had never seen one before. Michael Madsen once again displays his supreme competence by necking a bottle of beer for no reason, slurring his words (for no reason) like Orson Welles in a Paul Masson wine advertisement.
This movie was completely without wit; the dialogue was unbearable. I watched it for James Woods. I turned this off as soon as his VIP cameo ceased.
Fucking awful.
Next.
Philip Baker Hall was around forever, starring in seemingly everything, the quintessential character actor, every eclipse given the opportunity to do something more than the dependable authority figure. You’ve got Seinfeld’s Library Cop and the jaded but wise Sydney in Hard Eight (1996) among the background roles, and this film would be worth it just for him alone but there are more treats (just check the supporting cast) in this first work from Paul Thomas Anderson.
Even for a debut picture, this shows his mastery of style – his films are never dull to look at, demand your attention, and there’s a reason behind every dazzling shot. And it’s the consistency that’s the key. You leave with an indelible impression of the narrative. The lad is the Scorsese of the San Fernando Valley.
Ford’s haircut, what might feasibly be deemed a Caesar, is the feature attraction but he pulls it off.
You can tell from two mins into this brutal courtroom gig that it was shot by Gordon Willis, his unmistakable visuals a pallet of shadows and claustrophobia; when cinematography had character.
No faffing on your phone during the Caesar Attraction for you must pay attention. And it’s got that genuinely shocking ending that defines the era of the glossy star-powered thriller.
Wildly entertaining, impeccably acted, Raul Julia rocks up and somehow becomes the most interesting character. What an inscrutable face, what a voice.
The last great Alan J. Pakula movie.
It’s risky with some of its jokes but they are actually funny (most comedies are joke-free affairs) and stem from the growing characterisation and chemistry of the two leads, and the bizarre credibility of the bit-part players, some of whom appear to have wandered off from the set of Lethal Weapon (1987).
Michael Keaton, eh. He can do no wrong in his Indian summer (I don’t wish to hear of this Batgirl … thing).
For a comedy/satire, it’s well choreographed in its action scenes, even more so than the majority of buddy cop movies out there.
And the late Ray Stevenson pulls off an Aussie accent. X.
The cinematic travails of Tom Ripley have given us the quite barking The American Friend (1977), The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), and the little-seen Ripley’s Game (2002) – a multifarious holy trilogy of sorts linked by the amoral antihero. I have not seen Purple Noon (1960), nor the Barry Pepper number. And what the fuck happened to that actor? He was on the cusp but now operating in the AWOL stakes.
And this TV first, it’s exceptional, a throwback continental thriller with vistas galore. Ripley epitomises the self-effacing weasel; you need to watch out for these creeps for they lurk in the shadows.
It’s a 5/5 from me and I couldn’t find a flaw in it.
And Patricia Highsmith used to smuggle snails through airport customs ….
A surface-level bog-standard thriller with a bit more to it, recalling the gnarly Unbreakable (2000), sans that peculiar score fished from a ghetto’s gutter. It was the James Newton Howard one; he sounded like DJ Shadow with an orchestra back then.
An apparently ‘normal’ superhero (Big Brucie Bonus) doing the legwork and the nitty-gritty, with barely any quips and facepalm-inducing one liners.
And this was pure rubbish but not … that bad. And it’s thoughtful in a way, institutions and their ingrained sordid ways given a bit of the Cuckoo’s Nest treatment.
Bruce is the best as always, and Bruce has been missed. Mace Windu is also here with us, a lad incapable of bad acting. Sarah Paulson runs the ward/show, though, an outwardly reasonable yet diabolically cruel gaslighting specialist. She excels at the Nurse Ratched role.
We also have a preposterous chat between a security guard and a low-level charge nurse (or whatever). It’s so accurate in depicting that moment when a gremlin is spraffing a life lesson to you, stuff you already know, but you are compelled to nod and pretend to be absorbing new information as they are in a position of authority. It’s every job I’ve ever had and you must endure the torture.
I’d recommend this film. The reviews out there are a bit scathing. Don’t believe them.
It’s not crap and I’m always correct.
So unusual for a crime thriller, we have a protagonist as nonthreatening as it comes operating on the sidelines of the mob. Nonthreatening until you really see how clever and kind of sinister he is, he reminded me of Tom Hardy in The Drop (2014).
Exquisitely crafted, intense, this is a good old-fashioned crime drama which goes beyond the situation piece it could have been as it never leaves the one location for its duration. A movie with no faffing around. And there are some brutal scenes.
A rare gem.
