September 26, 2003

There is a sensational bit of 70s retreading coming to theaters this October. It is tightly edited, sharp and to the point. There are some new techniques used to heighten a traditional genre, but its love for the original is clear as a bell

Unfortunately, the movie is not Kill Bill.

The movie I am writing about is Texas Chainsaw Massacre, directed by first-timer Marcus Nispel. It’s a little premature to review the movie in depth right now, but simply put, this one is about as close to movie perfection as you can get.

It is, first and last, a hardcore genre movie. The teens are hot, horny and high. The massacr-teers are grotesque, angry and out for blood. The air hangs heavy with death. And you’re never quite sure what’s coming next.

If I have an objection to the film, it is that the opening sequences in the van, when the kids are just being kids, are a little overcut/overshot. But it is such a small issue that I shouldn’t even be mentioning it. From the moment they land on Planet Chainsaw, every note feels just right.

I knew the movie had me when the gang (I occasionally enjoyed the thought of the foursome as the Scooby Doo group… maybe in 20 years, New Line will do Leatherface Vs. Shaggy) was in a dangerous place, trying to open the door to a locker that has something in it. This was still in the first act. And I thought to myself, “I’m not sure I want to be sitting here right now.” I’m not real squeamish or anything. But the sense of real dread came over me. And I knew…

Best of all, there was not a single case of “She’s only doing that (falling, going into a scary space, not picking up the gun) because she’s in a thriller.” Sometimes, you can kind of feel them setting stuff up to make sure to fix the loopholes. But they get the job done.

The two key performances here are by Jessica Biel and R. Lee Ermey. Both hit it just right. Beyond her acting, Biel is not only interesting because of her loaded tank top, but because there is something terribly womanly about her whole physique. She doesn’t have the waifiness of so many of the young actresses out there. And for this role, that's critical. It reminds me of her role in Rules of Attrraction, where she played a real bimbo… but she had occasional bouts of clarity that felt more real than the portrayal of her character’s sexuality, which she was looser with than AOL is with free sign-up discs. I’d love to see her in the next role that Scarlett Johansson turns down.

The guys are good, but of the “other kids,” only Erica Leerhsen is really memorable, playing a flake who is just waiting to be victimized... only degree ever changes. The Family doesn’t have a whole lot of acting, but they were cast right out of a book of Diane Arbus photos, substituting sepia for black & white.

But in the end, it is Marcus Nispel, cinematographer Daniel Pearl (who also shot the original) and editor Glen Scantlebury (who also cut the underappreciated Joy Ride) at the core of why this film works so very well. Sound mixer Stacy Brownrigg, Production designer Greg Blair and art director Scott Gallagher also deserve some special attention. And giving the devil his due, Michael Bay (yes, THE Michael Bay) rode herd on this one and it is going to be a big fat hit and a long-lasting classic, so…

It’s enough to scare the October out of Gothika.

WHERE’S THE BEEF?!?!: I also feel like a complete review of Kill Bill is a little premature today. However, I will say this… I am looking forward to Kill Bill Redux, in which Quentin Tarantino will take this bloated, overly indulgent, structureless three-hour problem double feature and cut it down to the two hour movie that should have made “Quentin Tarantino’s 4th Film” legendary.

Inevitably, there will be apologists for this thing. So ask the hard questions. Do you really care about Uma Thurman’s character? So you really believe in her revenge? Do you really care whether you ever see Bill, much less see him killed?

The answer will likely be, “No… but it is soooo cool.”

In the look of this film, I have to say, Tarantino has made a leap. But I give much of the credit for that to one of the very best working cinematographers of this era, Bob Richardson. He’s only been nominated for four Oscars so far, being gypped for City of Hope, Heaven & Earth, Natural Born Killers, Bringing Out The Dead and even Errol Morris’ Fast, Cheap & Out of Control. He’s shooting his third Scorsese movie now, creating the world of Howard Hughes in The Aviator. A master.

Tarantino has another undeniable asset in this enterprise… Uma Thurman. Not a lot of actors have second acts to their careers. Thurman, coming back into the fold after taking some space to be a wife and parent, has an adult world-weariness and power of focus here that we’ve never really seen in her work before. I’m not sure if I can really explain in words, but I think maybe it’s in her hands. She has these incredibly long fingers that match her incredibly long body. In her early career, she was always the most beautiful foal, still figuring out how to balance. The key role of that era was not Pulp Fiction – which may have been her best role – but The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, in which she played Venus on the Half Shell. The late great Oliver Reed bellowed, “Thaaat’s ma wife!” Now, she is no one’s possession. And for the first time, she has the feel of a power actress. It’s kind of like Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface. It’s a broad movie, but for her, it is a coming out party. And her hands… those long fingers… there is a steadiness that we’ve never seen on film before. She doesn’t have to apologize for her looks here… she has to apologize for nothing. And as a result, we get to see her as the complete woman she has become.

That said, someone needs to tell Quentin, “Give up a few of the toys, boy-o.” The 96 minutes of movie and 13 or so minutes of credits, front (3.5 minutes) and back, have the feel of a director who has been given too much rope and just can’t be persuaded to kill his darlings.

We have seen this before with Paul Thomas Anderson, who would not listen to anyone when everyone knew that Magnolia needed a 30 minute trim… even those of us who loved much of that film. It’s almost unfair to bring up Gigli, but Meet Joe Black certainly suggests the same about the once great, once expert wielder of the knife on his own work, Martin Brest. (You may remember him as the guy who made the best Action Comedy since before The Rundown… Midnight Run. No fat on that movie or on Beverly Hills Cop.)

On the flip side, there is Martin Scorsese, who cut Gangs of New York to death last year. Isn’t that ironic? Last year, Harvey Weinstein forced the issue and in my opinion, GONY suffered from its “improvements.” This year, Weinstein seems to be letting Tarantino have his way with a double release, in the process, turning one potentially great film into two... well, we’ve only seen the first… but at least one flashy mediocrity.

There is also the issue of certain Tarantino signatures aging badly. What was shock and shockingly funny in Pulp Fiction is often, now, merely gross. Many of his then-fresh ideas have been adopted and adapted by others. And some of his best new ideas, like using anime’ in the film, have found him beaten to the punch by, in this case, The Animatrix.

One of the great ironies of this film is that after going on about how terrible CG filmmaking is and how great wire work is, this film is cut in a way that never really allows you to watch the fighters fight. I don’t think there was a sword section with more than three clinks of the sword before a cut. And the hand-to-hand combat is like watching over-edited dance numbers.

I so wanted to go along on the ride for this movie. I love the Shaw Bros. movies that I have seen. You might recall a request in this column that the catalog be used to launch a series of inexpensive films in that style, forcing quality directors to work on tight budgets and short schedules… the way these crazy classics were made. It wouldn’t be as pretty, but I am 100% sure that a $28 million Kill Bill would be a lot more satisfying than this one that cost more than twice that amount.

One person at the screening has already written off the sluggishness of Volume One as style. Please. If it was Bergman, you might say it was his style. If it was Eastwood, who takes his time to spectacular effect in Mystic River, you could call it his style. But take a look at Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction and even Jackie Brown, which is the slowest paced of his films. They move along at a clip. He can take his time in dialogue sections. But all three prior films were very tightly edited. Here, either he fell in love with his footage and couldn’t do the right thing and to cut it to the quick or he was stretching to make the 90 minutes for Volume One. Either way, you can feel this movie’s wheels spinning and very little traction.

Yes, there is cool stuff. And there are beautiful images. And there is Uma. It is fun to see a living anime girl in the body of Chiaki Kuriyama. Lucy Lui and Vivica Fox are both quite good. But why… why should we care about this film?

One last example. There is a sequence earl in the film, which becomes a clear homage to DePalma’s Dressed To Kill. Most of the people in the audience will never know that. But I did. So let’s stick with me. And still I ask, “Why?” There are two possible reasons that I can come up with. First, Darryl Hannah puts on a nurse uniform, as Michael Caine did in Dressed To Kill. Maybe that was enough of a reference. It also turns out that Hannah debuted on screen in DePalma’s The Fury. Another connection. But for this movie… why? I can’t find any real reason other than self-amusement. In fact, the whole sequence could have easily been cut, since it does nothing to move the story along, other than to introduce us briefly to a character we will not see again in this volume. It slows things down and adds nothing except style… empty calories.

Thing is, I love The Tarantino Show. I am willing to indulge his whims and references. But I want them as the great crispy fries, not as the meat.

BOX OFFICE: If you are interested in my estimates, they turn up every Friday afternoon in The Road to Box Office Hell on MovieCityNews.com

READER OF THE DAY: AND THE COCONUT writes: “When you get a chance to pull your wee wee out of the Matrix Part 3 (kidding) tell me why is it that new filmmakers like Wes Anderson and Sophia Coppola are compelled to turn Bill Murray into Mr. Sadsack now?

If you look at the three characters he's played in their three movies it's become apparent that the super-smug gopher/ghost chasing Murray of the 1980s has morphed into tired and lonely "award chasing" persona that betrays all the razor sharp energy of those twenty five years. The man has a right to do what he wants with his career, but I can't help but feel that this is like putting a horse out to stud.

My point is, isn't it apparent that some are doing a kind of a indy version of Robin Williams to this man's career? Maybe seeing "What About Bob?" last night triggered this all. But I felt compelled to point it out.

And don't get me started on his weird Polonius in Ethan Hawke's "Hamlet."

And this from B&A: “You're such a MATRIX whore. I love it!

Even as a dispassionate observer of the MATRIX TRILOGY, I find your enthusiasm infectious. Lead us, David. Lead us to the promised land of the third installment!

"As long as there is a single breath in (Poland's) body, he will never give up. And neither can we."

Finally this from ST. NICK: “As a long-time reader, I have to say that when you compared The Rundown to Midnight Run and 48 Hrs., I was very happy. For a time, it seemed like I was going to be ostracized for wanting to watch The Rock, Stifler and Walken run through the jungle. But your validation made it seem like it would be OK. I've yet to see it, but will this weekend. In the meantime, thought you'd like to know you've been name-dropped, impolitely at first, but then rather admirably. Enjoy. This is from Phil Villarreal of the Arizona Daily Star...

"The Rundown" barrels into theaters along with an over-the-top commercial campaign in which quote-stooges crow that this is "the perfect action movie" and the best action comedy since "48 Hrs." Such proclamations seem laughable, but they won't have you giggling nearly as much as this movie. The quote-stooges aren't too far off: This is fast-paced action comedy at near-optimum calibration, and "The Rundown" is as well cast in its own right as "Casablanca."

And this from the end ...

With ridiculous plot twists and a cheerful lack of logic, "The Rundown" isn't perfect, nor is it trying to be. But whoever said this is the best action comedy since "48 Hrs." (1982) wasn't at all exaggerating.”

E ME: I’m not sure if that makes me Moe or Curly. I’m definitely not Shemp. Now’s your chance to shoot back… And Happy New Year to all my fellow Heebs.