The Marksman/The Detonator/7 Seconds

Well, if Wesley Snipes is going to run off to Romania to make three movies at once, I’m going to review them all at once, and you’re advised to skip them all at once. It’s a mystery why a fair actor like Wesley chose to join Fatso Seagal and Wham-Bam Van Damme in Direct-to-Video Land, but there you are. The Marksman (opening September 16) is about a super-soldier who “paints” enemy targets with homing devices for air strikes. (A more accurate title would be “The Painter,” but then the multiplex crowd might think it’s about art and not buy tickets.) In The Detonator (opening September 30), Wesley is a cowboy CIA operative, and 7 Seconds (opening October 14) is a caper flick with so many double- and triple-crosses that I didn’t bother to keep track. They all feature (sometimes the same) Romanian actors (loved the comically sneering villains); a gunfight/fistfight/car chase precisely every twelve minutes that are so cheesy they sometimes include stock explosion footage; and are edited with an AK-47. Don’t even get me started on the dialogue. (95 min each)

Cinema 43

The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift

It’s jail or Japan for a lead-footed American teen delinquent, so he becomes a kind of exchange student majoring in illegal street racing at a Tokyo high school. In short order he has a sidekick, a Japanese girlfriend (who’s about as Japanese—or teenage—as I am), and enemies within Tokyo’s stylish, hip (and fictitious) street racing scene. Some diverting races through the streets of Shibuya, which, as everyone knows, are deserted at midnight. But it’s hopelessly formulaic and dull. Thank God for Brian Tee, whose cartoon yakuza villain is so bad he made the movie worth watching. Nice coda. (104 min)

Cinemas 11 50 61 90 96 102 109 110 112 113 114 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

The Doctor, the Tornado and the Kentucky Kid

This is one of those sports movies that will not win any new converts but will delight anyone already into it. The sport this time is MotoGP motorcycle racing, which we are told is the two-wheel equivalent of F1. It follows three champion-level bike racers (or, if you prefer, extremely well-coordinated hicks) as they prepare for a race at California’s Laguna Seca racetrack. Shot in low-res video, it’s predictably repetitive but includes a technical analysis of the sport that will be of interest to some. A bit long for this kind of thing, even if it is narrated by Ewan McGregor, a fan. (107 min)

Cinema 16

White Noise

Most glaring unexplained phenomenon in this humorless, unsatisfying metaphysical mystery is what Michael Keaton is doing in it. This guy’s dead wife is trying to reach him through a new-agey pseudo-science just left of astrology called EVP, for Electric Voice Phenomenon—people from The Other Side talking to you via recorded radio static and TV snow. Well, surprise, this Sixth Sense rip-off doesn’t make a lot of sense, and aside from one (and only one) off-the-shelf shock moment, isn’t all that creepy either, unless you suffer from an unnatural fear of being bored to death. (101 min)

Cinemas 6 102

X-Men: The Last Stand

Our multifaceted mutant mob of clawed, furry, magnetic storm-makers, flame-throwers, ice-throwers, injury-healers, mind-readers and energy-suckers has lost its mentor but must still do battle with a new Force of Evil in this philosophically pretentious second sequel…and they lose. The Mentor I’m talking about is X-Men 1&2 director Bryan Singer, who left to do Superman Returns, and the FoE is crap director Brett Ratner (Rush Hour 1&2, Red Dragon), whose disjointed, ham-fisted, frenetic-yet-bland approach circus-juggles a few too many mutants and subplots. Has to do with a new mutant kid whose body manufactures an antibody, a “cure” if you will, for mutants. The franchise’s message about it being okay to be different is all but buried in melodrama and soapy sentiment. Still, the nifty, SFX-laden action set pieces are fun on their own. Warning: a few major characters die. But don’t worry. Famke Janssen, who died in XM2, is written back in, but in a much scarier, reborn super-X-persona, so anything is possible. And the final scenes hint that this film’s very title is not necessarily accurate. (103 min)

Cinemas 2 26 56 61 70 90 96 99 102 107 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

The 40-Year-Old Virgin

I’m reminded of Woody Allen’s response to the question, “Do you think sex is dirty?”: “Only if you’re doing it right.” When the sexual status of the title character is discovered by his co-workers (Paul Rudd, Romany Malco and Seth Rogen), they make it their crusade to change it for him, offering questionable advice (“Date drunks”), setting him up with unsuitable babes, etc. But he’s really attracted to an over-40 single mother (expertly played by Catherine Keener—good chemistry). This crude but sweet-spirited sex comedy succeeds largely on Steve Carrell’s spot-on performance in the title role, helped greatly by the fact that, though this is a one-joke movie, the writers (Carrell co-wrote with director Judd Apatow) manage to come up with enough original tweaks to that joke (speed dating, detachable shower heads, condoms, straightforward “morning problems,” body waxing) to maintain momentum. What could have been just another Hollywood gross-out is surprisingly astute, actually insightful, and more than a little knowing. Lots of sight gags and one-liners, and one hell of a (musical!) ending. (115 min)

Cinema 117

Miami Vice

Irrelevant big-budget cop opera is immediate and stylish, but also overblown, self-serious, frequently padded and ultimately uninvolving. I’m not sure why it’s called Miami Vice. While the pastels of the fatuous ’80s TV show have been replaced by nearly monochromatic grays and blues, calling it “gritty” would be confusing that term with “grainy,” as in film stock (shot in HD video). Sin City is gritty. Still, there’s some fine-art photography that’s way better than the action. Not much violence, but a constant, nicely palpable potential for such. Anyone else getting tired of Colin Farrell? (132 min)

Cinemas 3 26 45 60 70 90 95 99 102 109 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

Dogora

French director Patrice Leconte is clearly an auteur who thinks his farts is art. He puts out one film a year, but apparently in 2004 he was busy vacationing in Cambodia, so—what the hell—he gave us his home movies instead. Consists of long takes, usually using an extreme telephoto, of Cambodians (or, as often as not, the backs of their heads) sleeping, pedaling, paddling, walking, picking through garbage, sewing, looking around, looking at the camera, looking away. There’s no dialog, but it’s set to this ponderous, glaringly inappropriate, Stalinist-style music. Doggerel is more like it. (75 min)

Cinema 101

Match Point

Woody Allen doesn’t cast himself in his new flick (nor is there a neurotic surrogate), it’s not set in New York (but London), no older men cavort with young girls, and it’s not even a comedy, unless you’re hugely cynical about human nature. What this wicked, sexy thriller is is a return to form for the iconic director and one of the best movies of the year. None of the characters is particularly likable. Social-climbing tennis pro (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) is wooing the daughter of an upper crust British family (Emily Mortimer) but can’t keep his eyes (or his hands) off her brother’s American fiancée (Scarlett Johansson). I won’t tell you any more, but it’s about the tangled webs we weave, the part that luck (good, bad, dumb) plays in the lives we fancy ourselves in control of, and the perils of getting what you wish for. Several vicious little plot twists and an ending you’ll be unprepared for. Cinematographer Remi Adefarasin adds a nice Hitchcockian flavor. (124 min)

Cinemas 41 100

United 93

We knew there would someday be commercial movies on this subject, and this first such film, while a knuckle-biter, is thankfully lacking in sensationalism or sentimentality. It is of course the story of a passenger revolt that may or may not have happened aboard the fourth hijacked plane on 9/11, the one that failed to reach its target of the White House or the Capitol building. Writer/director Paul Greengrass offers no character development for these unlikely heroes, and hired no big names to play them. It’s like they’re, well, people you’d meet on a plane. And the military and air traffic personnel on the ground are largely playing themselves. The terrorists are not unduly demonized; there are no politics or preaching. It’s commercial but not exploitive, and it’s as accurate and factual as it is possible to be, pieced together from black box recordings and cellphone calls. When the lights came up I was surprised to notice that every muscle in my body was tense and that there were tears streaming down my face. An overused term, but this is a must-see. (108 min)

Cinemas 7 26 57 61 90 96 99 102 109 110 112 113 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

The Last Trapper

Brilliantly filmed movie about Norman Winther, who lives off the land in the Yukon, hunting and trapping fur animals in his birch-bark canoe, building log cabins and dog-sledding around photogenic snowscapes. Fascinating guy; as a straight doc, this may have won awards. But misguided filmmaker Nicolas Vanier decided to write a phony script and have Norman play himself. Bad idea, ay? Stalls whenever conversation starts. He becomes increasingly irritating as he moralizes about protecting nature. It’d be comical were it not so preachy and sanctimonious. Did I mention that the photography’s nice? (94 min)

Cinemas 8 42

Hard Candy

This high-wire act of a movie has 32-year-old Jeff (Patrick Wilson—Angels in America) arranging to meet 14-year-old Hayley (an absolutely astonishing Ellen Page), the girl with whom he’s been carrying on a harmless little on-line chat. She innocently suggests that they repair to his place. Sure, Jeff’s a pedophile, but he knows where the line is drawn, and he’s not going to do anything stupid. But don’t even begin to think you have an inkling of an idea what’s going to happen. Let’s just say that the title of this highly effective, well-made film is inspired. Not to mention the poster photo, of a little red-hooded girl standing in the middle of a monstrous wolf trap. It’s a hard, somewhat sadistic sit, but once it’s got you it’s impossible to turn away, despite the fact that it’s difficult to really identify with either character. It is at the same time a blunt moral lesson and a kinky revenge fantasy; it’s anti-pedophilia, but also undeniably exploitative. Nevertheless, it’s engrossing as it is repellent, and totally original. (103 min)

Cinema 20

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest

Sequel shares the original’s strengths as well as its weaknesses: it’s ungainly, repetitive and way too long. But every scene with Johnny Depp sparkles with his swishy wit (give that makeup person an Oscar!). The rest is mostly melodramatic padding involving Keira Knightley and Orlando Bloom. Gripes aside, there’s still plenty of popcorn fun of the coyote/roadrunner variety, notably the hamster wheel and Sparrow-kebab sequences. Also Bill Nighy with a squid on his face. Arrrgh! (155 min)

Cinemas 1 4 8 23 27 40 47 60 65 70 71 82 90 95 96 99 102 107 109 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

Mission: Impossible III

Where the original TV show’s appeal lay in the Impossible Mission Force going in with stealth, accomplishing its mission and getting out before the bad guys even knew they had been screwed with, my gripe is that the movie versions have merely used the title (and of course Lalo Schifrin’s unforgettable theme music) as an excuse to blow stuff up and fight a lot in a James Bond rip-off. But this third movie pays homage to the show’s stealthy origins, at least in one segment, and gets points for that. And those ubiquitous latex masks, a screenwriter’s crutch if there ever was one, are kept to a minimum, so a few more points. Phillip Seymour Hoffman as the cool, cruel villain doesn’t hurt, and there’s a more coherent narrative. But Tom Cruise’s increasingly weird public personality is making it harder for him to inhabit a character, if he ever could, and while this popcorn movie moves along at a brisk pace, there’s little in it you haven’t seen before. Hormonally speaking, testosterone yes, adrenalin no. (126 min)

Cinemas 2 3 7 11 26 45 51 60 61 70 90 95 96 99 102 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 125 126

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