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Threeman
Reviews
Behind Enemy Lines (2001)
THE MTV OF WAR FILMS
Definitely for those with one-second attention spans: constantly roving camera, twitchy, over-cooked visual effects, disorientating fast-cutting, and musical overkill. Adequate for a five-minute music promo, but TOTALLY the wrong stylistic choice for what is ostensibly a stealth-led quest for survival "behind enemy lines". The unbearably glib and showy style poorly serves the action sequences, and more critically distances us from Owen Wilson's Burnett character: everything moves too quickly, and as viewers we simply do not spend enough quiet moments with him. By extension, his growing resourcefulness in the face of near-impossible odds is glossed over. To witness and empathise with his struggle was surely one of the main thrusts of the film, was it not?
Counterbalancing Burnett's primordial struggle for survival are the `cerebral', political machinations embroiling Gene Hackman's Admiral Reigart, but it will come as no surprise to discover that this wider angle is equally botched. The warning repeatedly given to Reigart is stark: any attempt to intervene and rescue Burnett risks severely undermining an already brittle peace process. But beyond such rhetoric, the precise implications of US intervention are not examined. The media's role in the Balkans conflict is also hinted at, but disappointingly we get no intelligent examination of its potentially inflammatory impact. Historical and political elusiveness feels particularly disingenuous here, since the fate of Burnett, and by consequence the driving force of the narrative, is directly anchored in the political gamesmanship of the US, UN and Balkan states.
BEHIND ENEMY LINES is not a good stand-alone action film, and it certainly has nothing intelligent to say about the Balkans conflict and the external peacekeeping mission. Avoid.
Kolobos (1999)
Intriguing and Intense
I rate this horror outing quite highly, simply because it fulfills many of the criteria I deem to be essential in this genre: the tone is nasty, the pacing intense, the scares genuine. Most effective of all, to my mind at least, is the story's resolution, which is not without ambiguity and which does little to endear itself to the casual viewer. I admit I like ambiguity, and it's surely a given that horror films are most effective when they end on an unsettling note. Such ambiguity works for me here (potential minor spoiler) - I look on this as a delusional sado-masochistic fantasy, whose gruesome, murderous visions may or may not have actually taken place and if they haven't, one senses ominously that they will soon.
In this respect, I think the `surveillance' aspect of the plot is a red herring, or at worst a poorly conceived gimmick. Either way, nothing much is made of a potentially volatile subject beyond the clichéd exclamation `Is this some kind of sick joke?'. This, and a few other clunky lines of dialogue, drag the film down a few notches. But in the main, KOLOBOS comes very recommended to fans of the genre.
Resident Evil (2002)
Noisy and VERY tedious
Rubbish action. Rubbish horror. I was going to limit my review of RESIDENT EVIL to these two pithy phrases. But when the comment `Well, what were you expecting anyway?' floated in my general direction, I began to bristle at this lazy, time-worn mantra.
So what was I expecting, indeed hoping, to get out of this? More. Much more. We simply must learn to be more demanding. I speak as a fan of the original video games, and as a lover of a good Zombie-fest. Yes, I love zombies adore the pasty-faced, shambling hordes of Romero's DAWN OF THE DEAD, the eerie moth-eaten Templar Knights from the BLIND DEAD series, even Fulci's faintly charming, crumbling undead. And here's the thing the zombies in RESIDENT EVIL are just about the most uninspiringly sanitised bunch you could ever (not) hope to bump into. They are a distillation of all the film's failings.
Early impressions are favourable, with slick visuals and meaty, evocative sound design. But glossy aesthetics have the capacity to irritate rapidly in the absence of any semblance of plot. Make no mistake, the screenplay is RESIDENT EVIL'S principal Achilles' heel. The lousy dialogue (the one element to have survived intact in the transition from game to film) is further undermined by a limp narrative consisting entirely of one poorly conceived and executed set-piece after another. Characters spend the vast majority of the time running from point A to point B, without thought or ingenuity, to the extent that the viewer is soon faced with a tiresomely uninteresting series of disconnected and repetitive episodes. Things aren't helped along by some very strange continuity decisions, with characters regularly in calm conversation one moment and the next hysterically slamming doors shut in the face of a mutant horde.
As though to paper over the glaring cracks, a bombastic electronic / heavy guitar score kicks in every few seconds, often at the most inopportune moments. Suspense and fear arise as much from moments of silence as from noise, but the first, most obvious lesson of horror filmmaking is so obviously and sadly lost on Paul Anderson and co. The undisciplined noise put me very much in mind of TOMB RAIDER, which similarly failed to capture the spirit of the original video games despite superficial similarities in the set design. These video games are primarily solitary experiences, I would venture almost introspective, whereas the celluloid incarnations are anything but, raucous and over-populated. I can just imagine a major studio risking a high-profile franchise with an introspective film light on dialogue and supporting characters, but rich in atmosphere.... not.
I've seen the word `splatter' bandied about with reckless ease on these pages. Please don't make me laugh. The gallery of monsters on offer, including the aforementioned zombies, singularly fail to impress, victims of an overly clean, fussy cinematography that imparts a sanitised sheen on everything. The blood-letting is unimpressive and deceptively clinical. Rather like persisting with a dull film in the hope of catching the odd crumb of gratuitous nudity, here I was soon hankering after some proper, sleazy gore to alleviate the tedium. At this point, you know in your heart of hearts that both you and the film are in dire trouble, nay sinking fast.
RESIDENT EVIL fails as horror and as action. It's a one-trick pony that is relentlessly noisy and tedious.
Double Take (2001)
NOT Midnight Run
Director George Gallo penned MIDNIGHT RUN, one of the very best action / buddy-buddy pictures ever to have graced our screens. More than ten years on, and this feels like an ill-advised and incredibly anaemic imitation. The lead characters here are marginally appealing, but as the script races on at breakneck speed and virtually collapses under the number of twists, they are given precious room to develop and engage our sympathies. It all feels so very daft and inconsequential in the final analysis. A time-filler at best, but in the context of MIDNIGHT RUN, also a considerable letdown.
Where Eagles Dare (1968)
The Best
I feel I'm preaching to the converted when I cite this as the finest, most richly atmospheric adventure film ever made. This is about mood as much as all-out action. It inhabits that strange escapist realm of nostalgia, of a never-ending childhood spent playing out of doors, of conjuring wild adventures where imagination and the thrill of anticipation are everything.
Why even begin to criticise the film's total absence of realism and plausibility? Immerse yourself instead in the beautiful, haunting snowscapes, the gloomy, winding corridors and stairwells of the infamous 'Castle of the Eagles'. You'll find such escape easy. Here is a film not afraid to dwell on the minute preparatory details of a high-risk mission. It patiently builds to the action sequences, avoiding the dizzying, elliptical editing style of so many modern-day action films who mistakenly favour the `now' over the suspense of an evocative build-up. WHERE EAGLES DARE rewards patience, as the snow and the chill and the gloom are given the necessary time to envelope, to ingrain themselves in the mind. What of the DVD release? Let's hope that it too rewards patience when it finally sees the light of day.
Jeepers Creepers (2001)
ABYSMAL
This is an unforgivably poor addition to the horror stable, and I'm stupefied that it has enjoyed such commercial success. Granted, a judicious, omnipresent marketing campaign successfully duped a lot of punters, myself included, but does bad word-of-mouth count for nothing these days? How is it that this unsightly, over-hyped juggernaut continues to bulldoze its way through the high-street stores, commanding premium shelf-space? I noticed a few other dissenting voices on these pages, but I feel we may be too few and too late in our mission to prevent this rubbish raking in further undeserved millions.
The movie begins with an inspirational ten or so minutes of tension-building, and promptly commits narrative suicide. Jettison mystery and suspense, replace with comically illogical character behaviour. Good move. Hint at an unseen, unspeakable evil, then promptly substitute with the most ill-conceived, laughable creature in a rubber mask. An even better move. Trade all subtlety for trashy, in your face clichés. Sprinkle liberally with an utterly stupid, gimmicky plot device involving the film's title. What genius.
It's precisely because JEEPERS CREEPERS hints at greatness in a fleeting, opening salvo, only to undergo a bewildering change of direction, that it deserves all this vilification. It shouldn't have happened like this. And you shouldn't have to watch it. There are so many other horror movies out there more deserving of your time, and that includes a myriad straight-to-video-hell numbers wallowing at the bottom of your local store's bargain bucket.
Street Trash (1987)
EFFECTIVELY TRASHY
This is a loathsome film, an ugly series of arbitrary, mostly brutal episodes. As the random plotlines raced to their messy conclusions, I truly felt as dirty and depraved as the titular `street trash' characters. And yet, in this case, such a single-minded pursuit of depravity is cumulatively effective. STREET TRASH certainly delivers the goods for its intended audience, and exhibits qualities that elevate it above other genre entries accomplished camera-work, flashes of witty dialogue, and zesty performances. Nevertheless, think very carefully before sharing with unsuspecting friends they may never quite relate to you in the same way again.
Scorpion Thunderbolt (1988)
REALLY THE WORST FILM EVER...NO, REALLY...
Trust me. I've been in enough sleazy video stores, pored over myriad Z-grade shlockers to be able to qualify this as the most inept waste of celluloid I have ever seen. And yet it achieves greatness in a way only the most bereft of talent can, a deliriously incompetent mishmash of bungling Kung-Fu action, tomato-ketchup horror and side-splitting soft porn. Only the most insane need apply.