Film Review: HANNIBAL (2001, Ridley Scott)

Stars: 1.7 of 5.
Running Time: 131 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Anthony Hopkins (THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, TITUS), Julianne Moore (JURASSIC PARK 2, TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE), Ray Liotta (COP LAND, GOODFELLAS), Gary Oldman (SID & NANCY, JFK), Frankie Faison (MANHUNTER, EXTERMINATOR 2), Giancarlo Giannini (SEVEN BEAUTIES, SWEPT AWAY...), Francesca Neri (LIVE FLESH, COLLATERAL DAMAGE), Zeljko Ivanek (MANDERLAY, BIG LOVE). Music by Hans Zimmer (TRUE ROMANCE, GLADIATOR). Cinematography by John Mathieson (GLADIATOR, ROBIN HOOD). Directed by Ridley Scott (BLADE RUNNER, GLADIATOR). Co-written (kind of) by David Mamet (GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS, HOUSE OF GAMES, STATE AND MAIN).
Tag-line: "His genius... UNDENIABLE - His evil... UNSPEAKABLE - His name... UNFORGETTABLE"
Best one-liner: "Bowels in or bowels out?"

Rising above its occasionally silly, lurid subject matter, Jonathan Demme crafted THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS into an uncommonly emotive and well-made thriller. While not an all-time favorite, I enjoy it quite a bit, particularly the magnificent character actor performances contained within, from Scott Glenn to Anthony Heald to Ted Levine to, of course, the two leads. (It even gets bonus points for having a ginormous-eyeglasses-free George A. Romero cameo.) Conversely, HANNIBAL is... garbage. And it's not the sort of trash that excites me on a level like MUNCHIE STRIKES BACK or HELL COMES TO FROGTOWN or THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS: THE MOVIE; it's the sort of trash that can only be bought for $87 million.

Where to begin? Stylistically, it's as if Tony Scott (Ridley's brother) and latter-day Danny Boyle held an arm-wrestling match atop a camera, their pivot points being the shutter-speed control and the exposure button.

Slowed-frame-rate slow-motion (aka bad slow motion, which should never be used by anybody except David Lynch) is employed on a near-constant basis, whereupon my spit-takes gave way to groans of desperation.

THE HOGS WILL EAT YOU IN BAD SLO MO


Julianne Moore descends the stairs as the shutter speed shifts and we dissolve from one image to another while overlapping a third.

The Florence locations are beautiful, but I can't help but think of the United Nations allowing THE INTERPRETER within their hallowed walls, when they had rejected decades-earlier bids by NORTH BY NORTHWEST and THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL.

At least they don't use historical Tuscan city for product placement and self-aggrandiz–

Oh. Well, nice to see you Mr. Crowe. But none of this would be a problem if the movie wasn't so sure of its own brilliance. "Oh boy..." this movie says with flared nostrils and shit-eating grin, "we are delivering you all the thrills of THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS... and more!– Aren't you grateful?"

I don't want to get too far ahead of myself– let's tackle the plot. Supposedly co-adapted from the Thomas Harris novel by David Mamet, I was initially excited, but eventually found myself imagining three scenarios: A. Mamet was involved, but they didn't use his stuff, B. Mamet was involved, and he completely phoned it in, or C. Mamet lent his name only so that the film would gain prestige and he would gain bags of money. Cursory research shows it to be mostly A., with a likely smattering of C.

Regardless, it's sort of like a buddy cop movie. (A buddy cop cannibal movie? Don't ask me, because I don't know.) So we catch up with Clarice Starling a decade after the events of the first film, and now she's played by a sullen Julianne Moore. Julianne honestly tries her best, but I couldn't help but wish I was watching her instead in TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE. Hell, I was even looking fondly back on JURASSIC PARK 2. Anyway, she's a baby-washin' action-luvin' FBI agent who gets involved in a shootout with a baby-carrying woman and subsequently has to wash blood off of an animatronic baby, in a scene fraught with baby-washing emotion.


It takes a while to get there, but eventually we get to that ubiquitous buddy-cop scene where she has to turn in her badge and gun while some stiff-upper lip higher-up jerk-off is saying

"you destroyed half the city you action-luvin' loose cannon cop, you're a liability!"

and then our spunky hero says something like "you're making a big mistake, I'm the only one who can crack this case, and with all due respect, 'fuck you, sir!'" And Ray Liotta's in there, too

occasionally getting the chance to giggle like a little girl on coke, which is all we really wanted to see in this movie anyway.

Then there's Gary Oldman as a disfigured former victim of Hannibal Lector (Hannibal coerced him into cutting off his own face and feeding it to dogs after feeding him one popper, which I don't think is scientifically accurate unless they meant this kind of popper). His makeup is really quite impressive, but once I came to the internal decision that it resembled a cross between The Cryptkeeper and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, there was really no turning back.

He's got a convoluted plan to bring Hannibal to justice via some flesh-eating hogs he's been raising for the occasion, but because the filmmakers want Hannibal to be our cannibal anti-hero, they stack the deck ridiculously so against Oldman, making him a child molesting, bible-thumping, ultra-rich asshole. Who is also disfigured. And before you think about that too hard, I mean, look at his face, don't you see the face of... A MONSTER???

Which leads us to the film's secondary hypothesis, which is that Hannibal is some kind of Christ-figure, meting out harsh justice to deserving rude people. All I can say is that Hannibal is far more interesting behind bars as a source of brooding, intellectual menace, because as soon as he's out, he turns into a combo of Freddy Kruger and John McClane which might even be okay in a different series, but this film follows MANHUNTER and THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS fer God's sake! (Also see: my hatred for RED DRAGON.)

We're treated to a bad-slomo/shutter speed flashback of Hannibal attacking a nurse, a flashback scene referenced in THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. In that film, we heard the incident described in ominous detail, and it built a terrifying picture (in our minds) of what this Hannibal fellow was going to be like.

Going back unnecessarily and showing it at this point is like if they'd made a SE7EN: PART 2 and shown, via flashback, exactly how that notorious box from the finale came to be filled.

And because Anthony Hopkins wore an amazing big dumb hat in his final scene of SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, we are now entreated to 131 minutes of Hopkins wearing big dumb hats because now we can truly infer that he is a big dumb hat aficionado.


Anthony Hopkins: I HEART PAYCHECKS & BIG DUMB HATS

Along the journey that is this film, we're bestown with a zany Hannibal carousel ride, a supporting role from the talented Zeljko Ivanek (who seems destined to play only toadies, slimeballs, or a combination of the two),

a quasi-meaty but inadequate role for Italian film legend Giancarlo Giannini,

and the infamous "food for thought" scene with Ray Liotta, where he manages to actually be excellent despite being trapped in an awkward, overproduced horror scenario, the sort that can never match the dinner scene in TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, no matter how many millions are poured into it.

Liotta's pathos cannot be easily caged.

And in a weird, topical twist, while watching this last night, I was shocked to see a pre-9/11 Osama bin Laden cameo (sharing the FBI's Top Ten Most Wanted list with Hannibal Lector).

Which sort of leads to this next point, which is my (possibly crazed) claim that thrillers have gone into the toilet since the internet era began.

For some reason it annoys me to no end to see filmic cops, neighborhood kids, concerned homeowners, etc. doing research on serial killers, Freddy Krueger, poltergeists, etc. on their computers! Stick to the microfiche and musty tomes, I say!

Well, I guess that's about it. I can't say anything more about this mov–

WAIT OH MY GOD HE'S GOING TO EAT HER


OH THANK GOD IT'S JUST A KISS... ...Er, what?


WITH A SINGLE TEAR– IT'S TENDER AND BEAUTIFUL, JUST LIKE I IMAGINED IT WOULD BE FOR ALL THESE YEARS

I take it all back– here's five stars for you, HANNIBAL. Here I was harshly judging you as a thriller, when in fact you were a love story all along. I apologize. Please don't think I'm one of those rude people.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: FREEJACK (1992, Geoff Murphy)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 110 minutes.
Tag-line: "Alex Furlong died today. Eighteen years from now, he'll be running for his life."
Notable Cast or Crew: From the director (Geoff Murphy) of UNDER SIEGE 2, YOUNG GUNS 2, FORTRESS 2, and DAGG DAY AFTERNOON. (Wait- WHAT?!) Starring Emilio Estevez, Anthony Hopkins, Rene Russo, Mick Jagger, Amanda Plummer, Grand L. Bush (WEDLOCK, DIE HARD, LETHAL WEAPON 2), Frankie Faison (MANHUNTER, MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, EXTERMINATOR 2), Jonathan Banks (PIN, GREMLINS, BREAKING BAD). Music by Trevor Jones (RUNAWAY TRAIN, LABYRINTH, MISSISSIPPI BURNING).
Best one-liner: "Well, first you gotta cut off the head and the tail, and then you gut it. Then it's all a matter of the sauce. You don't just plop down a rodent on a plate and say here's your river rat would you like red wine or white with 'em. Not that there's any wine around here anyway."
Side note: I really like how Anthony Hopkins has been airbrushed into oblivion on the one-sheet.

FREEJACK. What the hell is a FREEJACK? Why would you call a movie FREEJACK? And yet somehow it still tells you everything you need to know, thus, in an odd twist, making it the perfect title. FREEJACK speaks to me. It says "I am a mediocre Sci-Fi movie with a big budget, but not nearly as big as I wanted." What we've got here is a part futuristic cautionary tale, part paranoid action thriller, and part TOTAL RECALL rip-off. It's Philip K. Dick, lite. More like "Philip K. Dildo," if you will.

The plot is as follows: in 1991, while competing in some sort of NASCAR-ish race, Emilio Estevez dies in a spectacular track explosion. Seconds before his fiery death, he is teleported eighteen years into the future to serve as a replacement body for ailing business magnate Anthony Hopkins. The world of 2009 is so foul, drug-addled, and polluted that there are no suitable human bodies for switching in the ('09) present, hence the need to pluck people from the past (right before their impending demises). There's little moral debate in 2009 regarding the Freejackers cause, hey, they were about to die anyway, and now they get to live on as the husk for Anthony Hopkins' consciousness, so stop complaining, Estevez, and let's get on with it.

Everything is going smoothly until Estevez escapes and leads futuristic law enforcement on a wet n' wild goose chase which involves plenty of car crashes and one-liners to go around.

Cars of the future look a lot like the cars of 1991.

Oh, and did I mention that if this was TOTAL RECALL, the Ironside character has been replaced with...

Mick Jagger?! Jagger wanders about in Sci-Fi leather riot gear and acts like a badass, by which I mean he looks extremely silly and attempts to maintain his dignity while Estevez victimizes him with one-liners.

Dignity: partially maintained.

His character's name is Vacendak, and I can't help but feel that he was given this name only so that Estevez could at one point jeeringly holler "Vacen-DICK!" at him as if this were a BILL AND TED film.

Correction- if this were a BILL AND TED film, there would be a forthcoming barb regarding "sitting on it and spinning."

Jagger does get a few solid moments––he gets to smash a Fabergé egg , and, at one point, given the great mutual respect fostered by the Estevez/Jagger interactions, gives Estevez a five-minute head start. Jagger literally covers his eyes, and begins to count––"One, Mississippi...two, mississippi..." Bravo.

The plot holes are sort of part of the charm: for instance, teleportations in this movie are described as only able to manipulate time, not space. Therefore, Estevez is yanked from the 1991 NASCAR track and arrives in 2009 New York City. So... there was an enormous racing arena in '91 NYC? Where was that, exactly? The Upper East Side? Tribeca? Perhaps Greenwich Village?

The overall aesthetic is sort of a skid row Cyberpunk, influenced heavily by ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK. There's even a scene where Estevez gets picked up by a whacky old-timey cab. Ernest Borgnine is not at the wheel, but you get the picture.

Amanda Plummer shows up for a minute as a shotgun-toting nun, Frankie Faison's a homeless river rat connoisseur, and Jonathan Banks gets in a nice turn as a corporate brute. Anyway, all of this leads up to a showdown with Anthony Hopkins' consciousness that culminates in a sequence I am forced to describe as 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY by-way-of THE LAWNMOWER MAN. Anthony Hopkins at one point bellows, "Welcome to MY MINNNNND!"

and we're entreated to a breathtaking visual representation of consciousness transference. In my opinion, FREEJACK goes much further in realistically depicting the state of neuro-cognizant subconscious persona transplantation than, say, the "Money for Nothing" music video:



VS.
.

Ultimately, the payoffs are surprisingly satisfying, and there's some awesome closing credits music called "Hit Between the Eyes" by The Scorpions, which features lyrics like, "I'm readddddy....for a HIT BETWEEN THE EYEEEEES!!!" Three stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: C.H.U.D. (1984, Douglas Cheek)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 96 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Daniel Stern (HOME ALONE, LEVIATHAN), John Heard (CAT PEOPLE, CUTTER'S WAY, AFTER HOURS), Kim Griest (MANHUNTER, BRAZIL), Christopher Curry (RED DRAGON, LAST EXIT TO BROOKLYN), John Goodman.
Tag-line: "Ugly. Slobbering. Ferocious. Carnivorous."
Best one-liner: "Are you kidding? Your guy's got a camera. Mine's got a flamethrower."

C.H.U.D. (CANNIBALISTIC HUMANOID UNDERGROUND DWELLER) is kind of the bastard child of ALLIGATOR (1980) and BENEATH THE PLANET OF THE APES (1970), but it's never quite as good as either of them. In fact, I'm not sure what exactly has cemented C.H.U.D.'s cult status- it's a solid enough little subterranean mutant zombie flick, but it never quite brings enough spectacle, engagement, or unhinged wackitude to the table to really push things over the edge. The cast is solid enough: Daniel Stern (HOME ALONE, LEVIATHAN) is a smart-alecky soup kitchen cook:

John Heard (AFTER HOURS, CAT PEOPLE) is a modern-day Jacob Riis-style muckraking photog, Kim Griest (MANHUNTER, BRAZIL) is the model/girlfriend:

Christopher Curry (STARSHIP TROOPERS, F/X) is the system-fighting cop, and there's a bit part by a young n' smarmy John Goodman as C.H.U.D.-fodder.

The film's heart is definitely in the right place, and there's some nice anti-evil bureaucracy, pro-environment, pro-homeless sentiments interwoven throughout the film (director Douglas Cheek went on to work as an editor on several grassroots liberal documentaries in the past decade). The special effects are pretty limb-rippingly impressive and eye-glowingly memorable (even if they're severely underused),

and there are some fantastically atmospheric shots of manhole covers being ominously hoisted,

but as a whole, this thing never quite congeals into a successful narrative. Endlessly listening to people talk about the C.H.U.D.s just doesn't cut it.

That being said, there are a few choice moments, including my personal favorite, when Daniel Stern is being tailed by a representative of a nefarious government agency. Stern decides to make a phone call, stops at a booth, and inserts his quarter. The leering G-man d-bag rushes up, ejects the coin, snags it, and eats it. Touché.

Still, if you're REALLY hankerin' for a toxic hobo flick, I must instead recommend J. Michael Muro's 1987 masterpiece, STREET TRASH.

-Sean Gill

2009 Halloween Countdown

31. PROM NIGHT (1980, Paul Lynch)
30. PHENOMENA (1985, Dario Argento)
29. HOUSE OF WAX (1953, André de Toth)
28. SILENT RAGE (1982, Michael Miller)
27. BASKET CASE (1982, Frank Henenlotter)
26. THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983, Douglas McKeown)
25. PELTS (2006, Dario Argento)
24. ANGEL HEART (1987, Alan Parker)
23. KILLER WORKOUT (1986, David A. Prior)
22. FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE (1991, Rachel Talalay)
21. THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971, Robert Fuest)
20. FRANKENHOOKER (1990, Frank Henenlotter)
19. HELLRAISER (1987, Clive Barker)
18. GEEK MAGGOT BINGO (1983, Nick Zedd)
17. ALLIGATOR (1980, Lewis Teague)
16. LIZARD IN A WOMAN'S SKIN (1971, Lucio Fulci)
15. THE CARD PLAYER (2004, Dario Argento)
14. SPASMO (1974, Umberto Lenzi)
13. C.H.U.D. (1984, Douglas Cheek)
12.
...

Film Review: EXTERMINATOR 2 (1984, Mark Bunztman)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 89 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Mario van Peebles (HEARTBREAK RIDGE, RAPPIN'), Robert Ginty (THE EXTERMINATOR), Frankie Faison (all the Hannibal Lector movies, C.H.U.D., CAT PEOPLE), Arye Gross (HOUSE II: THE SECOND STORY, SOUL MAN), supposed bit parts by John Turturro and L. Scott Caldwell (Rose on TV's LOST)- he's 'man shouting in vacant lot, but I never found her, even though I was looking pretty hard. Produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus. Music by David Spear (MORTUARY ACADEMY).
Tag-line: "John Eastland is back - He Knew You Were Lying - The Frightmare Continues!"
Best one-liner: "You want to clean out the streets? I AM the streets!"

The film starts right off with a bang, or rather a FOOOOOSH, with the Exterminator (Robert Ginty) pointing his flamethrower at the camera and letting it rip. We later see the exact same shot in the context of the film, but it doesn't really diminish it's 'FOOOOOSH in the face' impact.


We're talkin' DEATH WISH- but with a flamethrower.


Now I have never seen the Cannon logo do THAT.

And basically, this is Cannon's precursor to DEATH WISH 3. It was their trial run. And it's not perfect- they learned a lot. But I think it also has much to teach all of us. Now clearly, they wanted to create an ominous, crime-addled dystopian world on the brink of ruin. Old people are shot indiscriminately by cackling ex-dancers, police helicopters are blown up, and women are stabbed (and their attackers then brag "I like it when their faces go crazy like that, when they think the world has gone psycho and there's no way out!"). Dudes on roller skates abduct women just so they can get them hooked on smack. It's set up like a post-apocalyptic Middle Ages, with drawbridges, suits of armor, torches, subterranean hideouts, giant blades, etc. But there are unwitting elements of this world that at times seem more like a utopia. Allow me to explain: completely integrated gangs hang out together in complete post-racial harmony. Our main characters spend all of their time at a sleazier version of the bar from FLASHDANCE, which offers "Free Beer" every night. At least that's what the sign out front says. It's all boarded up and has trouble maintaining a clientele, but with free beer every night, it's unclear to me why the entire city of New York is not constantly frequenting this bar. Plus, the Exterminator's pseudo-stripper ("About six months ago, I came to New York, and Broadway seems about as far away as ever!") girlfriend is gyrating and crotch-thrusting to some sweet 80's beats every night. Everything is accompanied by tunes that alternate between rootin' tootin' MIDI basement porn music and the something that would maybe play on the start-up screen for a really shitty martial arts-based NES game. Here's a taste. I mean aside from being caught by Mario van Peebles and ritually crucified- I don't know about you, but this definitely feels like a place in which I could spend some serious time.

The film has an odd feel to it. Golan and Globus were still finding their voice. They had already made DEATH WISH II, BREAKIN', and a couple of Ninja movies, but hadn't done the bulk of their Bronson work, any of their Chuck Norris, no Michael Dudikoff, nor the real dance classics, like BREAKIN' 2, RAPPIN', SALSA, etc. And I don't know how involved they were in the production. I mean, clearly they were around when van Peebles was having his hair and costume done, and clearly they're responsible for the dancer girlfriend

the random break-dance interlude, and the odd roller skating performance art


set to music from BREAKIN', but first-time director Mark Bunztman is probably responsible for a lot of the wacko awkwardnness. Everyone mumbles in this movie, except for van Peebles (as "X"), who thinks he's playing a Shakespearian villain.

Albeit a Shakespearian villain with spiked shoulder pads, one-strap overalls, equal amounts of glitter and sweat, nipple-covering suspenders (on occasion), and a hairstyle that keeps alternating between a foppish Jheri curl and a Grace Jones-style flat-top 'fro.

His main henchman wears a tail coat, juggles fire, and rides around in roller skates for no particular reason. Yeah, this is pretty terrific. But the mumbling is insane, and at times the film seems completely improvised. The pacing is ludicrous as well. "X" and his crew take about 15 minutes to ritually kill an armored truck driver. But it's not a 15 minute torture scene, which could at least be forgiven as an attempt to insert some gratuitous gore– here, they're just carrying him around.... very, very, very slowly. You'll see probably one of the most awkward 'date' scenes in film history, between the Exterminator and his gal. The poor man's Fred Williamson (Frankie Faison)

does some drunk garbage truck driving, feeds some stray dogs and talks and laughs under his breath a lot to Ginty.

Ginty really doesn't know how to deliver a one liner. He gives no emphasis as he off-handedly mutters things like "Looks like some garbage needs to be removed." On the other hand, "X" carefully vocalizes entire speeches about being and owning 'the streets.' Half the time, though, you have no idea what exactly is happening as you strain to hear the half-assedly ad-libbed dialogue.

But don't allow me to lose my focus. This movie was designed for one reason, and one reason only: so that we could watch dudes in asbestos suits running around on fire, waving their arms helplessly in slow motion.


Get used to the POV shot of 'criminal-about-to-be-torched," cause you're gonna be seeing it a lot.


They shoulda shot this in 3D!

Promotional materials called the Exterminator a 'Sherman tank on two legs who breathes fire like Godzilla.' Damn! And these flamed dudes are not just any criminals- they're criminals who put drugs on the streets! This idea would come to a bigger budget fruition in Cannon's DEATH WISH 4- THE CRACKDOWN, but it's still pretty damn solid here. "X" proclaims, "With this powder, I CONTROL THE STREETS!" after he snags a bunch of coke from some carnation-wearing mobsters. Later, when the Exterminator cleverly switches out his drugs, "X" carefully enunciates: "THIS IS FLOUR.... WHERE'S MY DRUG?!?"

Anyway, the Exterminator captures a gang member, and tortures him by leaving him in the back of a garbage truck. Several days later, we get a little of the old Cannon 'comic relief' when they show the hoodlum, still in the back of the truck, munching on some trash. This all leads to a finale where the Exterminator tricks out the garbage truck with hidden machine guns and a snow plow to make it an unstoppable combat vehicle. Of course, there's the high stakes showdown between "X" and the Exterminator, which has to add the whole "we're not so different, you and me" cliché to the mix.

"X" taunts: "How do you like being the animal, Exterminator?! What are you hiding from, masked man? What's the matter, are you nervous? Are we too much ALIKE?" Yeah, this is a subtle movie. That's why I like it. Four mumbly, flaming stars.

Note Peebles' Patrick Magee-style posturing!

-Sean Gill