Only now does it occur to me... MERCURY RISING

Only now does it occur to me...  well, a few things.

From the writers of Burton's PLANET OF THE APES and Cannon's SUPERMAN IV comes an inspiring tale in the slick/big budget/all-star cast/conspiracy thriller-mode that was quite in vogue in the late 90s (ABSOLUTE POWER, CONSPIRACY THEORY, ARLINGTON ROAD, ENEMY OF THE STATE, ERASER, EXTREME MEASURES, THE FIRM, THE GAME, MURDER AT 1600, THE PELICAN BRIEF, SHADOW CONSPIRACY).  Occasionally laughable but usually enjoyable, it's also secretly (er– actually, openly) a message picture about autism.


 A few quick observations:

#1. Miko Hughes (KINDERGARTEN COP, PET SEMETARY, APOLLO 13, WES CRAVEN'S NEW NIGHTMARE, FULL HOUSE, John Hughes' son) is put in vehicular harm's way

even more often than in PET SEMATARY, a movie whose most notable feature (besides the Ramones song) is Miko Hughes being run over by a truck.

#2.  Also, I'm wondering if– differing color corrections aside– Willis is wearing the same (or basically the same) brown jacket and jeans as he wears in PULP FICTION.  Maybe he wanted elements from PULP FICTION around in his other 90s work as a good luck charm, like Buscemi in ARMAGEDDON or Sam Jackson in DIE HARD WITH A VENGEANCE or Mexican standoffs in LAST MAN STANDING.


#3.  The versatile actor John Carrol Lynch– playing a character named Lynch– has a prominent role in two of the most notable contemporary films about ciphers and code-breaking:  MERCURY RISING and ZODIAC.
 
Perhaps only John Carrol Lynch can truly solve... THE DA VINCI CODE.  (I would actually watch that movie.)

#4.  The brilliant character-actor Peter Stormare (FARGO, MINORITY REPORT, ARMAGEDDON, etc., etc.) is completely wasted as a grunt-uttering henchman with about two minutes of screentime.

 Peter Stormare:  he deserves better.

 #5.  For fans of TV's 30 ROCK, Alec Baldwin's villainous "Kudrow" in MERCURY RISING will come across as a carbon-copy, albeit "serious" version of Jack Donaghy– complete with pompous board-room persona, laughably right-wing sentiments, deep-voice affectation and all.  This is especially fantastic in a wine cellar showdown whereupon Baldwin unsuccessfully instructs Willis not to handle his wine twice
 
  

 

 

which prompts Willis to make the power play of destroying an entire vintage-packed wine rack

 
causing Frasier Crane, somewhere in Seattle, to wince terribly without even knowing why. 
I must applaud this, ecstatically.

–Sean Gill

Film Review: GRAN TORINO (2008, Clint Eastwood)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 116 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Clint Eastwood, Clint Eastwood, Clint Eastwood, Kyle Eastwood, John Carroll Lynch.
Tag-line: "Clint Eastwood."
Best one-liner: "Ever notice how you come across somebody once in a while you shouldn't have messed with? That's me."

"Let's go. We'll leave the Mick alone so he can... play with himself." This film is amazing. Just as amazing as the completely ludicrous trailer. Every bit of insanity and ridiculousness promised in the trailer is delivered, and in spades. Clint is so legendary, so committed to his work, so damn old, his pants pulled up so high, that no matter what he does, it's going to be entertaining and have some weight to it. His performance here is not being lauded cause people feel bad for him, like John Wayne's in TRUE GRIT. He has truly earned each and every accolade. Whether or not this is indeed Clint's farewell performance (both BLOOD WORK and MILLION DOLLAR BABY carried with them this possibility), he presents himself as a man transformed. In UNFORGIVEN, we saw Clint reinvented- wearier, worldlier, wiser- and we also saw a return to form with the nearly supernatural "Angel of Death" revenge finale. Back then, Clint was old, but here, he is truly ancient. He's a relic. His affected squint is now permanent. He no longer harshly intones, he growls. He doesn't even move his teeth as he snarls his terrifying reinvention of "Get off my lawn!"

This newest Clint is colorfully disdainful of modern society, its youth, its forced integration, its gang cultures, its multicultural tendencies. Everything which to him represents "the other" can be mocked, derided, and ridiculed (there are probably 4 or 5 racial slurs per minute), but not quite torn down. This is what he resents more than anything. The ease with which things can be torn down. His banter with John Carrol Lynch's barber is the perfect illustration. He says it's "how men talk." It's a carefully choreographed ballet of insults and racial epithets- there's no room, in his mind, for hamfistedness or outright denigration. This leads straight to bloodshed (and the barber indeed draws his gun when Thao, the young man Clint later takes under his wing, oafishly jumps straight to the crassest, least clever insults when training to "speak like a man").

Clint's personas over the years and his character Walt Kowalski here both are excellent at killing and dispatching violence. But Walt's attitude is far more Zen. He finds it more fulfilling to aim a gun comprised of his forefinger and thumb, to cut people down in his mind because there'd be no point to do it for real. He'd be taking himself down to their level. That is not to say that Clint can no longer brandish an actual gun to back up the one made by his fingers, but now he's above it all, so close to death, that he can't concern himself with the evil machinations of foolish men. This Clint is not a god of destruction, but a builder. And he spends this performance building up some relationships, that, while they could easily stray into after-school special territory, seem, for the most part, real. And when they're not, it's a mawkishness of CLINT's creation, so it's not actually corny. So pass the Pabst, close your eyes, and listen to Clint growl out the final song, "Gran Torino." It's earthy, weatherbeaten, and damned old. But it's also soft and comforting. And it just might be Clint's swansong.

-Sean Gill

COMING SOON: My vaunted end-of-the-year 'best films' list.

Film Review: FACE/OFF (1997, John Woo)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 140 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: John Travolta, Nicolas Cage, Joan Allen, Margaret Cho, Nick Cassavetes, CCH Pounder, Gina Gershon, John Carroll Lynch (of ZODIAC and DREW CAREY), Alessandro Nivola, Dominique Swain (of Adrian Lyne's LOLITA), Matt Ross (THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO, BIG LOVE), Thomas Jane (that makes two Patricia Arquette husbands in this movie), Chris Bauer, Tommy Flanagan (the scarred heavy from SIN CITY and SMOKIN' ACES), Kirk Baltz (the cop who loses an ear in RESERVOIR DOGS).

Tag-line: "In order to catch him, he must become him."
Best one-liner(s): "It's like looking in a mirror. Only... not. "

"Hello, Doctor. I hope you don't mind: I took a few of your groovy painkillers. I'm just enjoying some of your greatest hits here. Oh God, this is excellent. Oh, bravo. Bra-fucking-vo." So it's TANGO AND CASH meets DEMOLITION MAN meets FREAKY FRIDAY. And it's been directed by Tony Scott on a meth binge- John Woo. Damn! This movie really takes it up a notch. It's a symphonic ballet of particles; Woo's genius lies in the simplicity by which the film itself can be reduced to just objects in motion- tumbling men, flying glass shards, rotating debris, flapping doves, hurtling papers, cascading bullet casings. There would be no MATRIX without this. It's Peckinpah to the Nth degree, choreographed and concocted by a true mad scientist of cinema. The performances beg for hyperbole that goes beyond "over the top"- Cage and Travolta seem entwined in a battle to gorge themselves, to voraciously devour as much scenery as possible.



And Woo ensures that they never run out of scenery to chew upon. Joan Allen and Nick Cassavetes even get in on the action with, respectively, some ridiculous gasping,

and the probably ad-libbed line "THEY'RE LIKE COCKROACHES!"

There's WILD AT HEART references, inappropriate use of "Over the Rainbow," and lots of talk about 'tongue sucking.' In closing, this film perhaps should have been titled, FACE/TOUCHING.

There is more face touching than in any other movie I have ever seen. So try the FACE/OFF drinking game; take one drink every time someone touches someone else's face, and by the close, I guarantee you will be almost as crazy as Nick Cage.

"If I were to send you flowers where would I... no, let me rephrase that. If I were to let you suck...my tongue, would you be grateful?"

-Sean Gill