Friday, February 29, 2008Don Release Year: 2006Country: India Starring: Shahrukh Khan, Priyanka Chopra, Arjun Rampal, Isha Koppikar, Boman Irani, Om Puri, Pavan Malhotra, Rajesh Khattar, Tanay Chheda, Kareena Kapoor, Chunky Pandey, Sushma Reddy, Diwakar Pundir, Sandrine Verrier, Sidhart Jyoti. Writer: Farhan Akhtar Director: Farhan Akhtar Cinematographer: Mohanan Music: Shankar Mahadevan, Loy Mendonsa, Ehsaan Noorani Producer: Farhan Akhtar and Ritesh Sidhwani Availability: Buy it from India Weekly. Back in 1998 or so, the Amitabh Bachchan blockbuster Don became the first Bollywood film I ever watched. Or rather, that I ever really watched. Before that, I watched a Ramsay Brothers horror film called Haveli, but it was an nth generation dupe with no subtitles, frequent commercial breaks, and scrolling banner ads on the top and bottom of the picture -- and occasionally through the middle of the screen as well. So I don't think that actually counts. But at some point in 1998, I purchased a DVD copy of Don, knowing very little about the film other than the fact that the theme song, which I'd heard on the "Bombay the Hard Way" compilation, was pretty bad-ass. To say that my mind was blown after viewing it would be something of an understatement. Although technically crude in spots, there was no denying the film's immense charm and unadulterated joy de vivre. Bollywood cinema is certainly as commercial and financially driven as Hollywood, but the desire to make sure the audience has one hell of a good time is so infused into every frame that one can't help but fall in love with an industry product which, while probably no less focus grouped and cynical behind the scenes, is just so full of good natured energy and spirit -- not to mention so full of scenes of a jeury-curl sporting Pran doing backflips, kungfu kicks, and various feats of tightrope walking prowess. With Don as the impetus, I began my fruitful and only very rarely disappointing relationship with Indian cinema. Movies came and went, and I learned more and more about the action stars, past and present, that Bollywood had to offer -- Dharmendra and his son Sonny Deol, the mighty Mithun, and the suave old school guys like Dev Anand and Shammi Kapoor when he was all thin and hot and sporting his pencil thin mustache -- but as much as I liked all these guys, and as much as I liked many of their films, Don and Amitabh remained at the top of the heap. Don was my first Bollywood crush, so to speak, and you always have a soft spot for your first.
Not that celebrating Amitabh Bachchan is anything unusual. He was, after all, the single biggest star in Bollywood for decades, revolutionizing the type of cinema the industry produced and bringing the harder edged, grittier style of 70s era American filmmaking and anti-heroes to India. And he could dance. His now-famous and much referred to "angry young man" -- a character archetype he pioneered in films like Deewar and Zanjeer and continued to inhabit well into the 80s, and a little bit after that, when he was too old to be an "angry young man" -- took the streetwise edge of an anti-authoritarian Sam Peckinpah hero and mixed it with the smooth dance moves of John Travolta. The character tapped into something previously only flirted with by stars like Shammi Kapoor, and Indian audiences flocked to Amitabh and his films, elevating him far beyond the mantle of mere "movie star" into something wholly greater and largely unique to India. Of course, nothing gold can stay, and Amitabh wasn't going to be able to play the angry young man forever, though he was game to try for as long as he could. A series of personal and professional setbacks, including a disastrous run in politics and a financially ruinous gamble on a production and broadcast studio -- tarnished Amitabh's record somewhat, causing him to slum it in some crap films for a while in order to rebuild his empire. But rebuild he did, and while he's not above taking the occasional crap role for a boatload of cash (the man was in Boom, for crying out loud), he has settled comfortably into the role of dashing elder statesman and head of a dynasty that includes his fabulously popular son Abhishek and Abhishek's famously gorgeous superstar wife, Aishwarya Rai. But there was another.
In the 1990s, when Amitabh's star was in decline and Sonny Deol was busy single-handedly defeating the entire Pakistani nation, action films gave way to romantic comedies and dramas as the preferred style of movie. Even Sonny had to take time out from punching out terrorists in order to make a few romantic movies. But the man who emerged during the latter half of that decade as the undisputed king of Bollywood was a guy named Shahrukh Khan. Khan has the same dark, smoldering style of good looks that allowed Amitabh to make women swoon, but he also had an impish charm that Amitabh was occasionally capable of but hardly defined by. Khan had the smirk and the cocked eyebrow that could magically make a woman slink out of her clothes or spontaneously dance in the rain, depending on Shahrukh's whim at that particular moment. And like Amitabh, Shahrukh wasn't afraid to take on risky or controversial roles, perhaps best exemplified by his turn as an obsessed journalist in 1998's terrorist drama Dil Se. Although Amitabh had ushered in an era in which it was possible for the hero to die at the end (rare in Bollywood cinema, which treasured the happy ending), that had gone out of style by the 90s. But Shahrukh wasn't afraid to try and bring it back, along with films that delivered spectacle and entertainment with a heavy dose of politics and social rumination.
I admit that I was late to the Shahrukh game. Romantic comedies have never been my thing, so for years I explored Bollywood film without ever coming into contact with Shahrukh or even being aware of how famous he was. Several years ago, I finally watched Dil Se, and while it is a problematic film in some respects, I was never the less blown away by the film itself -- but not by Shahrukh, who turns in a credible if somewhat unsympathetic performance for most of the film before going all Jackie Cheung over the top at the end in a bit that was supposed to be highly emotional and tense but never quite succeeded for me. I had a few other Shahrukh films in my collection, though -- an ancient world epic called Asoka and a film called Karan Arjun, which I bought for no other reason than I read a review that said nothing more than, "Horrifically violent." I ended up going with Asoka, because I sure do love sweeping costumed epics -- that's my style of romance film -- and it had been directed by the cinematographer Santosh Sivan, who had turned Dil Se into one of the most sumptuously shot films I'd ever seen. As I wrote in the review, it was during Asoka that I "got" Shahrukh. I still don't keep up with current Bollywood news very astutely. I tend to watch older movies, anyway, and new movies that I might be interested in I learn about through reviews (usually bad). However, I did pick up that Shahrukh Khan -- reigning king of Bollywood -- had a bit of a tiff with Amitabh, who wasn't entirely ready to turn over the throne. I'm sure both guys get tired of one being compared to the other, and I understand Amitabh feeling threatened by the young lion, just as Shahrukh is probably desperate to emerge from the long shadow Amitabh casts. At first, it would seem that remaking one of Amitabh's most famous films wouldn't really be a step in the right direction.
When I found out Shahrukh was remaking Don, I was ambivalent but not offended the way some people were (and always are by remakes of famous films). And it seemed like a canny move by Shahrukh to star as the titular king of the underworld and his good-natured doppelganger. Because this Don would be different but the same -- or is it the same but different? Anyway, it would pay homage to Amitabh but also highlight the ways in which Shahrukh -- and modern Indian cinema -- was different from Amitabh and his classic film. It may seem a convoluted conclusion for me to draw, but this is Bollywood, and Bollywood plots are nothing if not convoluted. Shahrukh Khan plays very close to the plot of the first film for abut half its running time. Khan stars as Don, relocated for this version of the story from Bombay to Kuala Lampur. Don is a major player in the India- Kuala Lampur criminal underworld, but he's chafing under the command of men he sees as less intelligent, less capable, and less ambitious than himself. Unfortunately, his drive to excel brings him to the attention of Interpol, who want to take down Don as a way of toppling the entire criminal organization for which he works. Teaming up to bring down Shahrukh Don are Interpol inspector Vishal (played by venerable Indian film icon Om Puri (last seen in these parts coaching Mithun on to superstardom in Disco Dancer), and Indian DCP DeSilva (Boman Irani). But The Man isn't Don's only concern. After offing a lieutenant of his who was hoping to escape with his girlfriend (Kareena Kapoor, in a cameo and filling the role Helen tackled in the original) from Don, then offing the girl as well, her vengeful kungfu-powered sister, Roma (Priyanka Chopra, last mentioned on Teleport City in the review of Asambhav and here attempting to fill the role originated by Zeenat Aman), has decided to kill Don -- or die trying -- by infiltrating his gang.
Don's ambition eventually gets the better of him, as a drug deal gone bad gets busted up by the cops. Allow to pause here to ask, as I have perhaps asked before, how does any business ever get conducted in the criminal underworld if every single deal is a double cross of the, "No I don't think we'll pay you" variety? I mean, we see Shahrukh Don involved in two deals in this movie, and both of them are betrayals. And how many times have we seen similar betrayals in other action films? One dare not even think about it. So how can you get anything done if everyone is always taking the suitcase full of cash or drugs, but then pulling out a gun instead of turning over the other suitcase full of drugs or cash? Just once, a movie should feature two gangs standing face to face. The leader of the one gang slides over a suitcase full of coke. The other side inspects it, then slides over a suitcase full of cash. After that is inspected, both of them say their goodbyes and go their separate ways, looking forward to doing business with each other again. Anyway, Don's drug deal gone wrong, which includes the famous exploding briefcase from the beginning of the original Don, leads to a chase with the cops, which in turn leads to Don being mortally wounded. However, the only person who is aware of Don's situation is the DCP, and he just happens to have once met a street performer with a heart of gold and uncanny resemblance to the dying criminal mastermind...
And it is here that the remake begins to toy with expectations and the plot of the original. The basics are the same. Don's happy-go-lucky look-alike, Vijay (also Khan), is enlisted by the DCP -- without anyone else's knowledge, lest there be a security leak -- to masquerade as Don and collect evidence against the upper echelon of the crime organization. Vijay reluctantly agrees, with DeSilva offering to make sure the orphan boy for which Vijay cares gets a proper education. Needless to say, things are complicated for Vijay. The police don't know he's not Don, so they are still trying to kill or capture him. Roma doesn't know he's not Don, so she's still plotting to assassinate him. And Don's own men waver between belief and suspicion. All these complications were present in the original film, but the remake throws a couple more on for good measure. At this point, I think I'm going to dispense with comparisons to the original, as they are largely pointless, in my opinion. So know that I loved the original. I also loved the remake, though it is a very different type of film, less gritty crime drama and more slick jet-setting adventure. Shahrukh Khan is better in the role of Vijay as Don than as Don himself, but he's excellent all the way around. He also proves that he is a proud member of that exclusive club of men who can successfully pull off outfits that would look utterly absurd on any other man. This club was practically founded by Fred Astaire, and it currently includes David Beckham, Brad Pitt, and of course, Shahrukh Khan. For much of the film, Don alternates between more modern dress -- slick slim-cut suits, hooded sweatshirts, and so on -- and an array of garish polyester (actually, probably silk) shirts from the "Amitabh '78" collection (buy it in the spring 1978 International Male catalog). But the crowning achievement is the innovation of the "inner tie," a brightly colored tie worn around one's bare neck rather than around the shirt collar, and then tucked into the shirt itself at the neck (or, if you have a chest like Shahrukh, a couple inches down from the neck, where you finally get around to fastening some buttons). I know, I know! It sounds absolutely ludicrous, and it is. Go on, try it. I did. See? You look like an idiot, don't you? But look at Shahrukh Don. That's right -- it looks awesome on him. How is this possible? We mere mortal men will probably never know.
Don's look is, of course, just one part of the overall art design of the film, meant to give everything an ultra high-tech, bad-ass, modern sheen. And it really works. This is one cool movie. Relocating the film from Bombay to Kuala Lampur allows Don to take full advantage of Kuala Lampur's glass high rises and excessive luxuries. And unlike many films that strive for a similar style, Don doesn't necessarily have to turn a blind eye to substance as a trade-off. Much of that substance comes from an unlikely place. When last we saw Arjun Rampal here, we were making fun of what a bad actor he was in Asambhav. When I learned that he was the one cast to reprise Pran's role as the unfortunate father of the child Vijay eventually discovers and adopts, I was ready to write that whole portion of the film off. Surprisingly, though, Arjun turns in one hell of a performance as a computer security expert (or so they claim -- anyone who is actually involved in any degree of computer security will be amused and appalled by what passes for computer security) who is forced to commit robbery and, as a result, get busted by the cops, crippled by a bullet in the leg, loses his wife when she is murdered as retribution for the botched robbery, and loses his son, who escapes murder but vanishes (to be adopted, of course, by Vijay). Rampal brings a fierce intensity to the role of which I didn't know he was capable. Sure, I miss his character being a jeury curled ugly guy with a talent for circus performing, but I can always get that from the old film. Priyanka Chopra, another Asambhav alumni, fares slightly less better trying to fill the shoes of Roma. She's perfectly acceptable but ultimately unmemorable when matched up against the always superb Shahrukh and the surprisingly intense Rampal. Her character just seems to lack vitality, an although I said I wasn't going to invoke the original, I have to say that a large part of the problem is that she's taking on a role that was revolutionary in the 70s and originally filled by a revolutionary actress in Zeenat Aman. Zeenat made me believe. Priyanka doesn't, though I will admit that she looks great, acts well, and has a few decent action scenes. I really like her and I think she makes a good action heroine, but as is often the case both in Bollywood and throughout the world, the script doesn't seem to have a clear idea of what to do with her. The biggest problem with her role here is that this is Shahrukh's movie, and trying to outshine Don Khan is strictly a mission asambhav. Balancing out the female end of things is Isha Koppikar as Don's main moll, Anita. She's absolutely perfect for the part, and unfortunately,t he movie has even less for her to do than it does Priyanka. A real shame, because she burns up the screen even with the little she's given to do.
I didn't know a whole lot about Boman Irani before this movie, and I guess I still don't know much about him other than he bears an uncanny and slightly disturbing resemblance to Richard Kind -- you know, if Richard Kind shot people. Anyway, the role of DeSilva gives him plenty to do, and he does plenty with it. The rest of the cast rounds things out nicely, with pretty much everyone turning in a solid performance. As with many modern films, Don packs a few too many herky jerky editing tricks and CGI-powered camera hijinks into its running time than a film probably should. It doesn't reach Asambhav levels of abuse, but you better be prepared for writer-director Farhan Akhtar to rely heavily on split screens, slow motion, CGI vehicle stunts and explosions, rapid fire jump cuts, and that thing where guys walk in slow motion to techno music, then the film suddenly speeds up for like two seconds, then it all goes into slow motion again. Despite those indulgences though, which it seems like we're just going to have to put up with since every goddamn country in the world seems to employ them now, Akhtar's direction is surprisingly sure-handed for so inexperienced a director. I don't know how a guy with so few credits to his name managed to land a directing gig of this magnitude, but he doesn't let the film down. Both his direction and his script are snappy and exciting. The cinematography by K.U. Mohanan is also top notch -- not Christopher Doyle or Santosh Sivan good, but very stylish, taking full advantage of Kuala Lampur's glittering towers, modernist interiors, and gorgeous beaches. Although also possessed of few major credits, he successfully gives this movie the super-hip, super-slick appearance it needs.
The music is neither here nor there and is comprised primarily of generic action film techno and electronic music. The musical numbers are largely forgettable, though Kareena Kapoor's recreation of the famous Helen scene from the original serves primarily to remind us why Helen was such a national treasure. I don't know exactly what goes wrong in that scene, because I love sexy women doing sexy dancing, but I spent most of that number entranced by Shahrukh's inner tie. I didn't have terribly high expectations going into this film, but I did have expectations. I am happy to say that Don far exceeded what I expected from it. I really liked this movie a lot. It's fast paced, super cool, emotionally engaging, and manages to work as a remake, homage, and re-imagining without ever losing the spirit of the original. I don't see any reason one couldn't easily be a fan of both the original and the remake. Given my druthers, I would have introduced Vijay earlier, rather than spring him all of sudden into the film with minimal explanation, but that's a small quibble at best. I don't know what the eventual outcome of the Amitabh-versus-Shahrukh rivalry will be, and I don't really care. I'd be happy to hang out with or accept sartorial advice from either man. Of course, this would probably result in me wearing an inner tie with a jacket covered in flashing disco lights, so perhaps I'm best off as I am, a peon basking in the majesty of the Don and the Khan. Labels: Action, Bollywood, Stars: Kareena Kapoor, Stars: Priyanka Chopra, Stars: Shahrukh Khan, Year: 2006 posted by Keith at 1:50 PM | 3 Comments Friday, November 09, 2007Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam'in Oglu
2006, Turkey. Starring Mehmet Ali Erbal, Burcu Kara, Deniz Seki, Burak Hakki, Cuneyt Arkin, Burak Sergin, Didem Erol, Ismail Incekara. Written by Murat Boyacioglu. Directed by Kartal Tibet.
*Sigh* I heard numerous times over several years that there was going to be a sequel to Turkish Star Wars. I heard it would have Cuneyt Arkin in it. And I really hoped that those were just fruitless rumors. They weren't. So, with a heavy heart and low expectations, I went ahead and hoped that maybe it was a fitting tribute to the original film. I've now seen it. It's not. And it's really not worth even seeking out to find out for yourself. Coming from a man who owns Zombie Ninja Gangbangers, I think that's saying a lot. Imagine if Empire Strikes Back had been more of a combination of the "witty dialogue" and general emptiness of Phantom Menace, and mix that with the paroxysm-inducing variety show humor and irrelevance of the Star Wars Holiday Special. We'll keep a minimal amount of Phantom Menace's soulless special effects, but nix all of the action sequences and any parts where anything really happens. We won't have a Jar-Jar Binks anymore per se, but we'll dissolve him into a thin slime that just casts a pall over the entire film, so that instead of one odiously unfunny character, we'll just have many awkwardly unfunny ones. From the Holiday Special, we'll be particularly careful to adopt the concept of weak, meaningless cameos, and the capacity to inspire a general sense of outrage in the viewer as (s)he realizes that this has nothing to do with the film that the title refers to. Or, if you'd like a different way of thinking of the film... Imagine a script written so that it winks so hard at the viewer that it's probably tearing connective tissue in its face. A family-friendly script which attempts to tell a very coherent, cliched tale of a long-lost twin brother, unrequited love, and an evil man who seeks to destroy the world (and if the last part sounds like it could force some excitement, don't worry, because we'll keep him offscreen for almost the entire film). All humor, by the way, will be extremely obvious, poorly thought out, and even more poorly delivered, divided between 1) topical humor about such issues as Turkey joining the EU and 2) half-assed attempts at reminding people of how funny Turkish Star Wars was. According to the Internet Movie Database, writer Murat Boyacioglu had never before written a script. I would not be shocked if he never does again, even for community theater or an extemporaneous zombie film involving a few friends, a few bottles of ketchup, and a few bottles of raki or a few cases of beer. Director Kartal Tibet is best known -- to Americans anyway -- for his starring roles in action movies such as the Tarkan and Karaoglan films. It seems like he mostly directs comedies these days... I'm in no position to judge his directorial abilities overall, and I'll still give him the benefit of the doubt in the future, but I don't know what the fuck he was thinking here. Now, to be fair... it's a tall order to write a sequel to Turkish Star Wars. Even taller, I would argue, than writing prequels to the real Star Wars trilogy. What? No, really. I tire of taking potshots at Lucas; I think that no matter what he did, this far into the game he was just not going to be able to satisfy the ridiculously high expectations of rabid Star Wars fandom. The new films weren't going to be as groundbreaking for the general public as the original Star Wars was, and there was no way that he could completely satisfy the niche audience who knows Star Wars trivia better than the backs of their hands. Now, the incredibly horrible dialogue, the creation of Jar Jar, and the imbecilic deployment of James Earl Jones in a vocal cameo that even Satan himself couldn't have designed more sadistically... well, that's a different, and very rotten, can of worms. But Turkish Star Wars over two decades later presents a very different set of problems for the aspiring filmmakers. First off, if you're making the film for mainstream audiences, Turkish or worldwide, you can't steal footage and music from mainstream American movies anymore. That difficulty by itself opened the film up to criticism, as some cult fans of the original film wanted a sequel to do the same, but I don't see a way around compliance with copyright laws these days, especially in a major production. Second, the original film was an unparalleled combination of manic-but-incompetent action, surreal and incomprehensible dialogue, baffling and unidentifiable character/monster/costume design, and a basic approach that answered every question about plot or character development with a swing of Cuneyt Arkin's fists. Even if you don't enjoy Turkish Star Wars -- which, by the way, means that something's depressingly wrong with you -- you have to admit that it's a pretty hard act to follow. To that, you might object that Turkish Star Wars is stranger and more incomprehensible to Americans than to Turks, I suppose...but you'd mostly be wrong, just so you know. The film was as baffling to its original Turkish audiences as it is to anyone who has watched it serial-style on YouTube. The nonsensicality of the dialogue is not a reflection of idiosyncratic Turkish thought; it's just very nonsensical dialogue, and ditto the appropriation of outside film and musical sources, and the costume design, and everything else. Besides, the ensuing couple of decades have changed Turkish filmgoers' expectations in terms of budget, writing, production values, special effects, etc. Whether that's better or worse is up to you to decide, but it's no longer the sort of country where a national release can be made by a couple of guys who raided a janitor's closet for props and costumes. I could go on about all this, but I guess it'd be better to talk about the movie itself somehow. The story has become as follows: the Man Who Saved the World (they got Cuneyt Arkin to play him) is now dead and frozen in a block of ice. He had twin sons; one of them became a captain in the Turkish space program, and the other one was kidnapped by The Man Who Saved the World's eternal enemy, named Uga. Uga's kidnapped stepson is named Zaldabar, and he's a very cocky jerkoff, basically, who wears lots of black and has some sexy female androids running his ship, but he has always wanted to experience true love with a woman who does not simply comply with commands. By contrast, the other son, Captain Kartal, is running a Turkish spaceship on which the crew haven't been paid wages in three months. Kartal's sexy assistant Gonca keeps trying to seduce him, but no, he's only after noble heroism and his mission (Cuneyt Arkin's son my ass...). Comedy on the ship includes references to politics in Turkey, references to wages and concomitant divorce threats, the old woman who just can't stop cleaning, and a "which button should I push to activate the shields?" sketch. In a lot of ways, this movie is more like ongoing, boring, family-friendly sketch comedy that just keeps going on and on. Sometimes you almost even wish you were just watching a bunch of wookies. Anyway, Captain Kartal's mission is to find the astronaut Gokmen, who left the airlock to plant a Turkish flag in space, but then a giant pair of scissors cut his airhose/tether line and he floated away eight years ago. It transpires later that Gokmen landed on the planet Lunatica, where he started to foment rebellion against the portly despot Dogibus. Dogibus is trying to join an interstellar analogue of the E.U., and that plan is contingent upon the capture of Gokmen. To capture Gokmen, Dogibus tries to enlist the help of Zaldabar by promising his daughter Maya to him. However, after inadvertently crossing with Zaldabar, Captail Kartal and crew crash on Lunatica, where the Captain meets up with Princess Maya, who is running away from home to escape her betrothal, and she takes him to Gokmen. Meanwhile, Gonca is now working with Zaldabar, who captured her but at least can pay wages without bureaucratic funding problems. If you don't see where that's going, well, I'm not going to help you with it. Except for the pretty obvious conclusion, that's more or less the entire movie. Now, you might be asking, "But what the fuck does any of that have to do with Turkish Star Wars?" Yes. Well... First of all, they put Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam in the title. So there's that, for what it's worth. Then, there were a few limp-wristed references to the original film, including Uga's revenge monologue in which he describes some of the dialogue and action of the first film, punctuated by his advisor saying "Yes, but... I do not understand... Yes, but I still do not understand..." etc. And they also roped in Cuneyt Arkin for what amounts to a cameo -- although, fittingly, he's the centerpiece of the cover art and the posters. And I guess it was kind of fun to see Cuneyt, whose hair is now stark white, fly into space to save the floating Gokmen...and he very briefly reprises his role in the training scene of the first film, beating up rocks...and they did give him a small fight to participate in. Still, I think his presence was mostly wasted -- especially because the only part he's in which isn't a flashback is a scene where he gives his son explicit instructions on how to use his ship as a "magnet" to send a "bomb" away from the earth. What's wrong with that? Well, the focus on the scene is all about a fearful son learning from his father. And in the end, all he does is flip some buttons and do a U-turn. You might be wondering, "Okay, so when do they start kicking ass?" Well, they never do. The fight choreography is less inspired than your average fourth-grade play, and most of the "heroism" is exemplified by just trying to act nobly, rather than smashing rocks or beating up monsters. No one dies, there is no blood, the evil army's laser guns only stun and don't kill, and the only fight in the film is a really pathetic lightsaber duel which, by virtue of editing and closeups, doesn't give much of a sense of action or energy. So the sequel and tribute to the most action-packed film in Turkish history, if not in world cinema history, ends up being a torpid, character-driven, melodramatic comedy which at its very best is about half as funny as, say, any given Harvey Korman sketch in The Star Wars Holiday Special. This film is sort of like an existentialist hell that, to quote Sartre, "fumbles and gnaws and never quite hurts enough." It's a weird limbo that's not as painful as shrieking wookie pantomime, or as mind-boggling as minutes on end of footage of someone driving, or as earnestly boring as any given monster movie where 80% of the running time is spent watching guys around a table have conferences and meetings and such while we're just waiting for the monsters to come and eat them all. There are no monsters here except the film itself, and its production values are just high enough to keep it entertaining enough that it's just a constant disappointment. If that statement doesn't make sense, just let it go. Don't try to find out for yourself. If you want to see a good, recent Turkish sci-fi comedy, get G.O.R.A., which TSW2 very clearly ripped off stylistically. And if you want to see a good Turkish action movie... well, look for anything that's not this. The following would have made a better, more succinct review, but I figured people would be curious about the actual film. I think this sums it all up, though. I've seen Manos: the Hands of Fate at least five times, and I've watched Night of Horror at least six times. I sat through the entirety of both Zombie Ninja Gangbangers and Zombie! vs. Mardi Gras, and while I relished neither experience, I feel that I at least learned something somehow. But after watching the so-called Turks in Space, aka Turkish Star Wars 2, I mostly just want two hours of my life back. Labels: Country: Turkey, Science Fiction, Stars: Cuneyt Arkin, Year: 2006 posted by Ryan at 4:45 PM | 2 Comments Wednesday, May 02, 2007DOA: Dead or Alive
DIGG THIS ARTICLE. 2006, United States. Starring Jaime Pressly, Holly Valance, Sarah Carter, Devon Aoki, Natassia Malthe, Eric Roberts, Matthew Marsden, Kevin Nash, Collin Chou, Kane Kosugi, Steve Howey. Written by J.F. Lawton, Adam Gross, and Seth Gross. Directed by Corey Yuen Kwai.
I don't really play video games. I mean, back in the 1980s, I would pump a few quarters into TRON or that Buck Rogers game, and I had fun enough with the Atari 2600 and, later, the Nintendo Entertainment System, especially Kid Icarus and Metroid. Since then, I have played Resident Evil and Resident Evil II, and that's it. Oh, no, wait. At a party last week, I herded some sheep in a Nintendo Wii game. Something about Apes Gone Wild? I can't remember. I have no idea why, in a monkey-themed collection of games, I was a dog herding sheep. I guess the monkeys owned the farm, so it was sort of a whole horrible Planet of the Apes scenario. Point is, I don't know a lot about video games. It's just not a medium that I have ever gotten into. So I can't comment very authoritatively on anything that was made after, say, Crazy Climber, but I have never the less seen a lot of video game related movies. In fact, I've seen just about all of them. And while some video games really do have a rich enough mythology or back story to serve as a decent foundation for a movie (Resident Evil, Silent Hill -- even if you don't think the movies were good, the games at least provided enough meat for the framework), many others do not. Of course, that doesn't stop them from being made into movies anyway.
Such is the case with DOA. As best I can gather, DOA started life as a beach volleyball video game, with the hook that all the characters were hot cartoon chicks with tiny bikinis and huge tits, and you could somehow set the jiggle rate on their boobs. Then somehow the DOA games became fighting games, with the attraction being the same. The approach was twofold in its success. First, it was simple, sleazy titillation. I mean, hot chicks with bouncy boobs in tiny bikinis, engaging in lots of activities that require their jiggly parts to jiggle? What's not to like? Secondly, the games tap into the fundamental desire of just about all guys to, at least for a while, be a really hot chick. I'm pretty firm in my belief that most men harbor this fantasy, and I think nowhere is it more obvious than in the tendency of men to always play the hot chick character in a video game. Chun Li is nothing if not a symbol of ten million wanna-be gender-benders. You can support or detract from my theory all you want, but what's most notable about DOA is that "hot chicks play volleyball and fight" as a plot is pretty much the single greatest plot ever invented and the sole reason the technology of cinema and video games was invented. Thousands of years of intellectual evolution and technological innovation has finally resulted in my ability to watch a movie with the plot, "hot chicks play volleyball and fight."
DOA the movie was directed by Hong Kong action director Cory Yuen, who has a track record that boasts more high points than low and who specializes in turning attractive women into on-screen kungfu bad-asses. Under his tutelage, Cynthia Rothrock, Joyce Godenzi, Michelle Yeoh, and Shannon Lee were all transformed into believable martial arts powerhouses (OK, Rothrock was already a kungfu powerhouse; he just figured out how best to choreograph her). And while Hsu Chi, Karen Mok, and Vicky Zhao may not have been 100% believable as ass-kicking superwomen, that doesn't change the fact that Yuen's So Close was completely awesome. Yuen is also one of the few Hong Kong directors to have a big hit as a director in the United States, that hit being the Luc Besson-produced The Transporter starring Jason Statham. When news that there was going to be a DOA movie produced first hit cult film fandom, there was a lot of eye-rolling and "yeah, whatever, man" reaction. But when it was further revealed that Cory Yuen would be director, ears (among other things) pricked up and a lot of action film fans were suddenly a lot more willing to give the film a try, even if the inevitable PG-13 rating meant it would be all tease. If anyone was going to be able to direct a dumb fun "hot chicks play volleyball and fight" movie, it would be Cory Yuen. So people waited. Trailers played, and the reaction was tentatively positive after the initial negative reaction. Sure, the movie looked colossally goofy, but it also looked like it would sport high energy and be a lot of fun. And then the release date came and went, and there was no movie. DOA vanished, bumped from the release schedule and shelved for any number of reasons, the most likely of which was probably, "Wow, this movie is awful." Which is a shame. I mean, how bad could the film possibly be? They released Norbit, for crying out loud, and Epic Movie. And those had to be worse than DOA which, if nothing else, at least would feature hot chicks playing volleyball and fighting.
DOA eventually began to trickle out to theaters in other countries, though it still remained absent from American theaters, and fans of Cory Yuen, action movies, video games, and hot chicks in bikinis started looking to foreign DVD releases to see the movie. Was it worth the wait? Or the trouble to see it? Yes and no. DOA is pretty much exactly what you would expect it to be from the elements listed above. It is dumb. Extremely dumb. It is full of cheap titillation and gratuitous bikini ass shots, which always gets the Teleport City seal of approval. The script is paper thin, and what little story there is makes no sense anyway. Most of the cast doesn't even seem to realize they are supposed to be acting in a movie. The fight choreography, involving almost no trained martial artists, is heavy on editing, camera trickery, and computer manipulation. And yeah, it's all a whole lot of gloriously stupid fun. The plot revolves around a group of women invited to compete in a semi-secret martial arts tournament where, of course, shady shenanigans are being engaged in behind the scenes. Enter the Dragon's plot has proved useful so many times, the writers of this film decided there was no reason not to dust it off one more time. We first meet Katsumi, head of a ninja clan with a massive temple complex you would think someone in modern-day Japan would notice. Katsumi's brother disappeared during the last tournament, presumed dead, and she is determined to uncover the truth behind his disappearance, even if it means violating the laws of her clan. She leaves for the tournament with two more ninjas in hot pursuit: the noble Hayabusa, who has a thing for Katsumi, and the vengeful Ayane, herself the former lover of Katsumi's brother. Katsumi is played by the indescribable Devon Aoki, whose continued presence in the world of cinema is one of the great mysteries of the entertainment world. She's a horrible, horrible actress, completely incapable of anything beyond a single blank expression and a single, monotone style of dialog delivery. On top of that, she's pretty weird looking. How she ever got a part in a movie is beyond me, but how she continues to get parts, however small they may be and however bad the movies they are in may be, I simply can't explain.
Accompanying her, Hayabusa is played by none other than Kane Kosugi, son of the legendary (to me, anyway) Sho Kosugi, who starred in many of the best ninja exploitation films of the 1980s and then went on to host Ninja Theater and release a ninja exercise video in which he was accompanied by the scantily clad Ninjettes. One gets the feeling that Sho probably appreciates DOA. Kane started his acting career alongside his dad, always playing the son of whatever ninja guy Sho was playing at the time. Kane never developed much in the way of an American acting career, but he clicked in Japan and managed to forge a pretty consistent string of jobs, including a role in a Japanese sentai television series (those superhero shows that get turned into the Power Rangers in the United states), a role in one of those crappy new Ultraman shows, and most recently one of the leads in Godzilla: Final Wars (even though the lead role should have gone to Godzilla). He isn't really that great of an actor, but he's no worse than his dad (although his dad also wasn't a native English speaker), and he does handle action scenes well, which is generally all he's expected to do. As he gets older, he is looking a lot like his father, so much so that I'm beginning to wonder if Kane isn't Sho Kosugi, his revitalized youth the result of some esoteric ninja ritual or something. Oh sure, you say, but what about all those times Sho and Kane appeared alongside one another? Well, yeah. Maybe -- or maybe they just told us that was Kane Kosugi. Honestly, they could have hired any kid. Anyway, Hayabusa is along for the ride, trying to convince Katsumi that she should return home while also helping her out with her investigation. Ayane is a little more hostile. Despite her love for Katsumi's missing brother, Ayane holds clan law more important, and clan law dictates that when Katsumi abandoned her post as leader, she was marked for death. Ayane is played by Natassia Malthe, who has a string of cult film credits to her name but is probably most recognizable, to people who might recognize such an actress, for her role as Typhoid in Elektra or for her upcoming title role in the sequel to video game based movie Bloodrayne. I may be one of the few people in the world who would think, "Elektra and Bloodrayne II? Sounds good to me!"
Second on the list of DOA combatants is Tina Armstrong, played by Jamie Pressly of My Name is Earl fame. Pressly is pretty much the only person who showed up to this film with the intention of acting, and she steals the movie as a pro wrestler looking for the opportunity to prove she's a genuine fighter. The film introduces us to her as she reclines aboard her yacht while wearing an American flag motif bikini, stirred out of her sunbathing just long enough to beat the snot out of a bunch of pirates (lead by none other than Robin Shou, former star of such movies as Mortal Kombat, and, umm, well, just that and Mortal Kombat II, really). When our founding fathers first set forth the basic premise of this great land of ours, I'm sure that they could conjure up no greater symbol of American awesomeness than a hot chick in an American flag motif bikini beating up pirates. OK, maybe Thomas Jefferson would disagree. But whatever. Fuckin' Jefferson. Ask Ben Franklin. He'd be on board. Tina's pro-wrestling dad is also in the tournament, play by real-life pro wrestler (there's something...ironic? about the phrase "real-life pro wrestler") Kevin "Big Daddy Cool Diesel" Nash, who is dressed up more or less like Hulk Hogan in a somewhat lame gag I'm sure Nash found amusing. Since Kevin Nash's job in this movie is to drink beer and go, "That's my little girl!" he turns in the second best acting job after Pressly.
Finally there's Holly Valance as Christie Allen, a posh thief who shows up to the tournament while on the run from the Hong Kong police. Or someone like that. Valance is definitely no actress. I think she was some sort of mid-level Aussie pop star before this movie, and it's unlikely much will change after this movie. She's hot, though, and just bad enough an actress to still be somewhat acceptable in a movie of this nature. And she does the thing where she throws a gun and a bra up into the air, then sticks her arm up so that her bra goes magically on just as she catches the gun and whups the butt of the world's most incompetent bunch of cops. I mean, really, when a kungfu chick, however hot she may be, asks you to hand her a bra, do you really offer it to her as it dangles from the barrel of your gun? And I don't mean that figurative gun. I mean the actual gun, the one she can now kick out of your hands. Along with a bunch of other fighters you will never care about (and most of whom just disappear at random throughout the movie with no explanation presented anywhere other than deleted scenes), the three ladies head to the island fortress lorded over by brilliant mastermind and DOA tournament manager Eric Roberts. Yes, folks, Eric Roberts, looking like a dude who would hang around the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame a lot, telling young kids about what a genius Jimmy Page was. In a feat of casting not rivaled since the days when Black Belt Jones cast Scatman Crothers as a karate master, crummy movie mainstay Eric Roberts is the lord of DOA, and with the help of his nerdy assistant Weatherby, Roberts aims to use the DOA tournament as a way to inject the world's best fighters with nanotech robots that will harvest their genetic information and make it downloadable to a pair of sunglasses which will then instill the wearer with nigh invincible kungfu prowess.
Seriously, man, that's the plot. All Eric Roberts needs to do for his nefarious scheme to work is, 1) capture each of the best fighters in the DOA tournament, 2) strap them into his gigantic info downloading machine, and 3) manage to keep a clunky pair of sunglasses on his face while fighting. And the end result is that you will be a slightly better fighter than most other people. On the grand scale of nefarious schemes, this one ranks pretty close to the "moronic" end of the bell curve. I mean, how is being a marginally better kungfu guy than most other kungfu guys going prove profitable to anyone other than, say, a guy in the Ultimate Fighting Championship? And then, you have to get the ref to allow you to wear sunglasses while you're fighting. And it's not like Eric Roberts put a sports band or anything on those glasses, so they will eventually just fall off. But it doesn't matter, because we're a few centuries away from the era when being good at kungfu guaranteed global supremacy. You remember when the world was ruled by kungfu guys, right? Complicating Roberts' already goofy plan is the fact that the original DOA founder's daughter, Helena, is an aspiring DOA combatant herself and is beginning to suspect Roberts is up to something her father wouldn't have approved of. Oh, and there's Katsumi's missing brother. In between that nonsense and all the awful dialog are a whole bunch of choppy fights of varying quality, a game of volleyball, and well, that's pretty much it. DOA has absolutely no surprises to offer even the most easily surprised viewer. But does that mean this movie is as awful as it sounds? Of course. And does that mean that it's as great as it is awful? You betcha. The script, such as it is, comes to us courtesy of a trio of writers who actually have, if not a respectable track record writing good action films, then at least a modest record writing halfways decent action films. J.F. Lawton scripted two of the better Steven Seagal films (as odd as that statement may seem to some), Under Seige and Under Seige II, as well as the cult film spoof Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death. His big gig, however (besides writing Pretty Woman, but what does that have to do with us?), was as a regular writer for the goofy television series VIP, in which a group of hot chicks run a private investigation service. And when you realize that was one of Lawton's former jobs, the entire look and feel of DOA makes perfect, predictable sense. with a few tweaks here and there, this really could pass as a VIP movie, right down to the three-letter title. Lawton worked on more serious action films like The Hunted starring Joan Chen and Christopher Lambert fighting ninjas, and he worked on goofier action movies, like the Damon Wayans superhero spoof misfire Blankman. So you can pretty much see where the script for DOA came from. Script contributors Seth and Adam Gross were writers for Bill Nye, the Science Guy. I guess they came up with Eric Roberts' crazy science scheme, although i think the sheer goofiness of it all makes it more of a Beakman thing, really.
Cory Yuen's direction is a little uninspired compared to other efforts, though he puts his craft to good use in filming the ladies (Yuen has previous experience with cheesecake kungfu thanks to his turn in the director's seat of Women on the Run, which features some rather interesting, um, kung-nude). DOA lacks the slick polish of So Close, though Yuen is still adept at making cheap films look flashy. But even though the cinematography may be lacking, he misses no opportunity to randomly cut to a shot of someone's ass or cleavage, so he's not totally off his game here. And while Yuen is used to making non martial artists look like martial artists, he really has his work cut out for him in this movie. Aoki and Valance seem to possess almost no athletic ability whatsoever, and so to pass them off as fighters, Yuen relies on gravity-defying wirework and jumpy editing, as well as a dollop of CGI. He does the most he can with what little he has, but no one is going to be mistaking these gals for legitimate fighters. Even Hsu Chi was more believable. Jamie Pressly fares better largely because she has a pretty awesomely athletic build and looks like she really could deliver some punches and kicks and make you feel them. There's a reason why she's the one out of all these women who went on to have the biggest career. She's adept at both the job of acting and the job of looking good in the fight scenes. Sho Kosugi, errr, Kane Kosugi gets to have one fight scene all to himself, which ends up being the only fight scene that looks anything like vintage Cory Yuen, since this is a guy who knows martial arts fighting a bunch of stuntmen. But even though this fight is pretty good, the award for best fight scene has to go to the one between Valance and Sarah Carter, who plays Helena. And that's because that fight is between two sexy chicks in bikinis. On the beach. In the rain. In slow motion. Yuen manages to wring a few other choice action sequences from a game but largely incapable cast. His skill alone is what elevates this film above the level of, say, an Andy Sidaris action film. Aoki and purple-wig wearing Malthe have a decent wirefu match-up in a bamboo forest, which many people have pegged as a cheap knock-off of the bamboo forest fight in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, even though it has more in common with the same type of scene as presented in Andrew Lau's Stormriders. The finale against a super-powered Eric Roberts (who's acting suggests that if you asked him today, he might not even be aware of the fact that he ever even appeared in this film) isn't exactly solid fight choreography, but it's still funny and exciting because, well hell, it's Eric Roberts. What the hell is even going on? And by this point, Yuen has resorted to his trademark jettisoning of any and all semblances of logic or reality, and believe me when I say that semblances of logic and reality are the last thing a movie like this needs. Labels: Director: Cory Yuen Kwai, Martial Arts: Kungfu, Martial Arts: Ninjas, Stars: Kane Kosugi, Year: 2006 posted by Keith at 2:31 PM | 17 Comments Wednesday, April 04, 2007Naksha
DIGG THIS ARTICLE. 2006, India. Starring Sunny Deol, Vivek Oberoi, Sameera Reddy, Jackie Shroff, Suhasini Mulay, Navni Parihar, Liliput, Mridula Chandrashekar. Directed by Sachin Bajaj. Written by Milap Zaveri and Tushar Hiranandani.
For anyone who ever watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and was disappointed that, for all its over-the-top absurdities, it didn't feature a scene where Harrison Ford punches a midget and makes him fly across a field, then Naksha is the movie for you. Only it's not Harrison ford doing the punching; it's action cinema mainstay Sonny Deol. But hell, if anyone in the world is going to punch a midget and make him fly across a field, then it's going to be Sonny. Jackie Chan may have tried it at some point, but he's past the days of being able to do that anymore -- although he is an appropriate actor to bring up in our discussion of this movie, as although Naksha gets compared to Raiders of the Lost Ark (because all adventure films get compared to Raiders), the films it more accurately resembles would be the modern-setting adventure films of the late, great Cannon Studios, like Treasure of the Four Crowns or that thing where Chuck Norris and Lou Gossett, Jr. bicker and hunt for gold or whatever; or, perhaps even more closely, Naksha resembles the globe-trotting adventure antics of Hong Kong adventure films like Jackie Chan's two superb Armor of God films and Michelle Yeoh's entertaining but fabulously awful The Touch. In fact, if you took the armor from Armor of God (although, technically, we never even see the armor, do we?) and plopped it into the finale of The Touch, with a dollop of The Rundown thrown in for good measure, you'd basically have Naksha, the tale of two brothers and a tag-along hot chick who traverse the mountainous jungle wilderness in search of a secret temple and a sacred relic that could turn villain Jackie Shroff into an invincible superman, instead of turning him into the twin of French actor Jean Reno, which seems to be nature's own plan for Shroff.
Pretty boy Viveik Oberoi stars as Vicky, a fun-loving goofball who likes to spend his night at sexy dance clubs where the singers implore you to "shake what your momma gave you," even though poorly proofread subtitles insist that they are saying "shake what your momma told you" (and this after they tell is the lyrics to "Sway are "when the rubber rhythm starts to play"). I generally don't pick on subtitles, especially on DVDs that are marketed to a population that speaks something other than English. The inclusion of English subs is a nice consideration for the rest of us, and so I don't really complain when things stray from precise grammar. But still, man -- you should at least be able to properly subtitle in English the lines that are actually delivered in English. I only say this because I was all into shaking what my momma gave me, but then if I am only able to shake what my momma told me, I'm not gong to be allowed to shake anything other than Shake and Bake -- and going to a sexy dance club to shake a bag of raw chicken and crumblings is not what I'd consider getting my money's worth.
While hosting a bachelor party for his pal, Vicky meets dancer Riya (Sameera Reddy), who chastises him for being a low down dirty dog and such, and that's pretty much that. But when Vicky learns that his father, a famed archaeologist who died mysteriously some years before, may have been murdered while trying to protect a map to a sacred relic, he suddenly kicks himself into intrepid adventurer mode and sets out to find the lost relic -- which happens to be the armor and earrings worn by Karna during his legendary battle with Arjun, as described in the Hindu book The Mahabharata (which is a religious book in much the same way The Old Testament is: presumably -- and often verifiable -- historical events are mixed with or attributed to the intervention of gods and the supernatural). Whoever dons the armor and earrings will be rendered invincible.
Also searching for the armor is the dastardly Bali Bhaiyya, played by Bollywood veteran Jackie Shroff. Bhaiyya has no real back story other than the fact that he's the one who is responsible for the death of Vicky's dad. Exactly who Bhaiyya is, we never really find out, but adventure movies always have a villainous guy looking for the same treasure. In Raiders it was Belloq, in The Touch it was Count Dracula himself, Richard Roxburgh. And here it's Jackie Shroff. They're all pretty much the same: possessed of seemingly unlimited wealth (while the hero always seems to be rougher around the edges) and an unlimited number of incompetent but well-armed henchmen. Said henchmen quickly pick up Vicky's trail, and although he proves himself an able enough fighter (though the fights themselves can't stand up to similar fights in either The Touch or, most certainly, the mind-blowing fights -- few and far between though they may be -- in Armor of God), he is soon overpowered and find himself strung up in a vacant building, about to be eviscerated by Bhaiyya's goons. Until, that is, Sonny Deol crashes through the ceiling in slow motion and starts blowing cats away and punching them across the room.
Up until this point, the film has been pretty so-so, with a typical adventure film "discovering the plot" build up and a lead who was neither good nor bad, but simply a null value that wasn't going to engage me for the full film. But as soon as Sonny comes smashing through the building like The Incredible Hulk, wearing his old school Banana Republic safari man hat (some of you may remember when Banana Republic was entirely safari and adventure themed -- they had pretty awesome catalogs back then, digest size and printed on thick brown paper and full of stories about rum and clippers and such in between pictures of bush hats and waterproof duster jackets), well that's when the movie actually begins. From there on out, there's a few minutes sprinkled here and there dedicated to our main cast bickering with each other, but for the most part it's all Sonny beating the crap out of people and walking in slow motion and shit blows up around him. Sonny plays Veer, Vicky's long lost brother. It turns out that when Vicky called his mom to tell her where he was, she in turn called Veer and asked him to bring Vicky home. So Veer then used his incredible powers of teleportation to get to the remote little village where Vicky was being held captive, then used his incredible powers of ESP (or possible Google Maps) to locate the exact building in which Vicky was being held. Forget Karna's magic armor. Veer already seems possessed of near godlike omnipotence -- plus he can smash through buildings and punch guys so hard they fly across the room.
Vicky properly saved, Veer goes about the task of trying to bring the rascally younger brother home -- which proves difficult, as Vicky is nothing if not sneaky. Things get further complicated when, in the middle of the goddamned jungle far from home, the two brothers run into Riya, trapped in an out-of-control raft in a raging river. Apparently, she went on holiday and booked a white water adventure with an outfitter who takes women in their regular street clothes and plops them into a novelty-grade raft and sets them out into class IV rapids without partners or guides. The movie spends a little too much time with the trio monkeying about in the jungle (though sadly, and surprisingly, there are no hijinks or comedy bits involving actual monkeys), but that's forgivable as soon as Bhaiyya and his goons catch up and we get a parade of exploding trucks, kungfu fights, shotguns that seem to fire atomic bombs, and a scene in which the heroes run afoul of a tribe of pygmies that whip out some serious kungfu skills on Sonny (in a scene lifted wholesale from The Rundown -- even going so far as to hire an Ernie Reyes Jr. look-alike for the fight) before everyone makes up and gets drunk and dances through the village. And on the village. I don't know how happy the midget tribe was to have a big lug like Sonny Deol dancing on their roofs. I mean, if he can smash through the roof of full-size building, who knows what kind of damage he could do to the mud and grass hut of a guy named Liliput.
Eventually, everyone gets back to the business of trying to recover Karna's artifacts, leading to a big showdown in the hidden mountain temple, which is of course stuffed to the gills with booby traps (most of which are stolen from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) and candles that light themselves. Naksha is a pretty dumb movie, but that doesn't mean that I didn't like it. I liked it a lot. But then, keep in mind that I like pretty much all adventure movies, even those Tomb Raider movies no one else liked (in fact, I loved those), and even Treasure of the Four Crowns. Naksha is better than Treasure of the Four Crowns, and better than The Touch, but it's still no Raiders of the Lost Ark. But then, nothing is (not even the other Indiana Jones films), so it's not really all that fair or useful to say a movie isn't as good as Raiders, which just might be the greatest adventure movie ever made. Still, measured against the rest of the world's adventure films (including those Antonio Margheriti adventure films starring David Warbeck), Naksha measures up pretty well despite the fact that the plot depends on a couple tremendously gigantic coincidences. At this point in the history of adventure films, however, I'm used to just looking the other way when a female from earlier in the movie shows up at random in a raft on a river in the middle of a remote jungle. Or when Sonny Deol travels at the speed of light to the location where his little brother is being tortured. Or the fact that everyone solves all the treasure map's clues by sort of staring off into the distance until "revelation music with chanting in it" plays and gives them the answer to the puzzle.
But there's a word for watching a guy sit for ten years trying to decipher clues on an esoteric map, and that word is "archeology." And since real archaeologists rarely get in kungfu fights with midgets or get involved in magical battles in secret temples, lets leave their work as the purview of The Discovery Channel, and let's let adventure films be populated by guys like Sonny Deol blowing up trucks and swinging around sawed off shotguns. You may notice that, while Viveik Oberoi is ostensibly the hero of this movie, I've barely mentioned him. That's because he's not even there. Not really. There's a reason Ajay Devgan is the guy everyone remembers from Company, even though Viveik was the main character, and there's a reason we're talking about Sonny a lot more in Naksha. Oberoi doesn't really strike me as a bad actor; it's just that he spends pretty much the entire movie mugging for the camera and going over-the-top in a way that makes him less like the hero and more like the hero's odious comic relief sidekick. Which leaves the actual hero work squarely on the beefy shoulders of workhorse Sonny Deol, where it belongs. Sonny is getting on in years but I still have absolutely no problem buying him as an action hero. I also have no problem at all buying Sonny as a legitimate tough guy. The trend these days is to feature uber-scultped male model types as action heroes. Sure the bodies look good in a gym, but do any of these lads strike you as someone you'd want to depend on in a fight? Who has your back: John Abraham or Sonny Deol? I'd be much happier knowing that a guy like Sonny Deol, with his treetrunk arms and a little bit of fat, has my back. When I reviewed Kamal Hassan's Abhay a while back, I compared Hassan's build to Joe Don Baker, or to many of the beefy redneck guys with whom I grew up. Ask 'em to show you their six pack, and they'll take you to the fridge. But you damn sure know that when push comes to shove, for all their beer guy and excess body fat, these guys are more than capable of hammering pretty much anyone into the ground. Sonny definitely falls in that category. When Viveik Oberoi punches someone, you sort of shrug and go, "Eh, it's a movie." But when Sonny punches someone, you believe that someone would fly across the room and through a wall.
The other person to pay attention to in this film is Jackie Shroff. Again, we see that while Viveik may have been seen as the handsome, young lead, this movie really belongs to the veterans. Where as Oberoi's over-the-top mugging comes off as lame, Shroff gets to go just as over the top as the villain of the piece, but he executes his scenery chewing turn with ace perfection. As I mentioned earlier, he is almost totally devoid of character. He is evil because the movie says he is evil, and because he is willing to gun down a village full of kungfu midgets. But beyond that, the movie pretty much relies on you recognizing a well established adventure film archetype. And honestly -- is his sinister plan really worth all this effort to prevent? The armor may make you invincible, but I still bet it would be pretty hard for one guy wearing heavy armor to conquer the entire world. I guess these villains never really expect to succeed in their mad schemes, so they don't think through the actual logistics of their proposed global conquest. But whatever the short-comings of his plan may be, Jackie still gives his all despite being in such a goofy movie. You could jettison Oberoi and Sameera Reddy from this film entirely and just leave the whole thing up to Deol and Shroff, and you'd probably be better off for it. Speaking of which -- I almost forgot Sameera Reddy was in this movie. She has absolutely no purpose other than to be the pretty girl and get captured every now and again by Shroff's goons. Her turn isn't really bad -- we're not talking Kate Capshaw here -- but there's certainly no point to it, either. So at least she's no Kate Capshaw, but she's also no Karen Allen. She looks good in the musical numbers though (of which there are only a couple), and I guess that's about all she's supposed to do.
Plotwise, you can pretty much guess that this movie isn't exactly a work of art. Coincidences abound, things happen for no reason, and people just seem to appear in places with very little effort or explanation, sort of like how Tony Jaa was always able to teleport to wherever he thought someone would be who might know where his elephants were in Tom Yung Goong. within the realm of adventure films, the plot is actually better -- or at least more sensical -- than many, but that's really not saying a lot. The plot isn't really the point here, though. The armor is just a MacGuffin that allows the movie to indulge in a parade of exploding trucks, shotgun battles, and kungfu fights. And in this capacity, Naksha delivers the goods in excess. Really, in excess. No truck explodes when five trucks could explode instead. And nothing just explodes when it could explode and shoot end over end, fifty feet up into the air. And no one gets punched and falls down when they could get punched and fly like a hundred feet back and through a wall or a tree or a windshield. The action is way over the top, well into the realm of the cartoonish, but it's still pretty good fun. It does make for a weird transition when the wacky action has serious consequences, but awkward shifts in tone are hardly the sole property of Naksha.
I've brought up both Armor of God and The Touch fairly often in this review, which probably doesn't mean a whole lot to people haven't seen either of those films. First of all, if you haven't seen Armor of God yet, you should. The bad slapstick comedy is more than made up for when Jackie starts kicking people so hard it makes them flip over backwards, hit their shins on the edge of a wooden table, then flip over backwards again before hitting the ground (you really just need to see it). It's the second most painful looking abuse Jackie has visited upon a stuntman (the first being in Police Story, when he kicks that dude on the escalator and makes him flip backward and land chest first on the edge of the metal stairs and then he bounces -- again, you have to see it to understand just how painful it looks). As for The Touch -- not so much. It's really pretty bad, even though I still watch it from time to time just because I like adventure movies, and the cinematography is nice to look at, and so is Michelle Yeoh. Naksha resembles The Touch in that it takes the traditional adventure film and attempts to graft some sort of cultural religious context onto the action. In the case of The Touch, it was Buddhism, and obviously here it's Hinduism. However, I'd say the lessons in Hinduism (taught to us in cartoon format) to be taught by Naksha are about as trustworthy as the American history taught to us by National Treasure, so I wouldn't use this movie in place of reading the actual historical texts. Actually, I would. But you shouldn't.
It's this, and the supernatural ending, that makes Naksha feel like The Touch, though I would qualify that statement by saying that Naksha is a much more enjoyable movie. Director Sachin Bajaj finds himself in that position for the first time, and even though it looks like he got the job through the ancient tradition of nepotism (his father is a film distributor in India and is listed as the producer of Naksha), Bajaj handles the job well. Not perfectly, but well. The pacing is OK, there's a little too much reliance on slow-motion during action scenes (though this is a global trend and not anything unique to Bajaj), and the cinematography (by Vijay Arora, who does have a lot of experience in the field) nicely captures the landscapes and contributes the exotic feel that is so important to a successful adventure film. Incidentally, The Touch was directed by a cinematographer-turned-director too, and while that film is frequently gorgeous, it's rarely good. If Bajaj was still a novice director, he at least had the good sense to surround him with a capable crew.
There's also a fair number of special effects which, for the most part, are realized fairly well. I don't know the exact budget of Naksha, but it sure wasn't small, and it showcases India's continually improving skill with CGI effects. Not everything is pulled off perfectly, but if I were to assume the budget to be roughly the same or slightly lower than The Touch, the effects in Naksha pretty much blow that film out of the water. That said, the CGI in The Touch was pretty awful, and Naksha doesn't even deserve to be dragged down to that level by an act of comparison. There are also a fair number of practical effects, as well as the kungfu fights. India, like pretty much the rest of the world, has never quite gotten the knack of filming a superb kungfu fight the way they can (or could) in Hong Kong. So there's no kungfu showdown of the quality we get at the end of Jackie Chan's Armor of God when Jackie takes on an entire monastery full of evil monks and a gang of leather-clad, high-heel wearing kungfu amazons. But then, even Hong Kong and even Jackie can't deliver fight scenes like that anymore, so that style of hyper-kinetic, bone jarring acrobatic kungfu seems to be the exclusive domain of Tony Jaa. That said, I wouldn't really expect to see someone with Sonny Deol's build going all 1980s Jackie Chan in a movie. Deol is a classic tough guy, and his job is to move slower but with thunderous power. The fight choreography in Naksha is OK, maybe slightly above average if you average out the quality of fight scenes all over the world. It does rely a lot on the gravity defying wirework that is so en vogue and has been so since the 90s in Hong Kong (though it was only discovered recently by the rest of the world). But since the fight scenes are, for the most part, possessed of a cartoonish over-the-top quality anyway, the wirework doesn't detract. And Sonny still looks solid just punch or kicking guys square in the jaw. I guess Viveik Oberoi gets in some action, too, but honestly -- is he still even in this movie? However well Deol might acquit himself in the action scenes, and however charismatic and likable a performer may be, one thing that does astound me about the man is that, after some twenty-odd years or so as a leading man, the guy still hasn't learned to dance. Naksha has only a few musical numbers, and Deol is involved in only two of them. And one of those isn't even in the movie. It's just a music video tacked on to the credits. And it's here that Deol's proficiency for the dancin' rears its ugly head. The other musical number in which he's involved is the drunken revelry with the tribe of kungfu midgets, and his job there is mostly to drink, smash some clay pots, and stomp around like a joyous madman. That he can do. But the non-sequiter final musical number pasted into the closing credits calls for actual dancing, and while Viveik and Sammera wriggle and writhe about with skill, Deol dances with all the grace, rhythm, and timing of Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster. I don't know how you stick around in Bollywood as long as Sonny has without learning how to dance, but somehow he manages. Still, when you think about it, if you have an action-packed kungfu adventure movie full of lost treasure, secret maps, and exploding trucks, do you want your hero to look good in the post-adventure dance number, or do you want him to look good kicking ass in the rest of the movie? Let Viveik and Sameera have their paltry moment to shine in the "freaky freaky Friday night" closing credit song, because Deol owns the rest of the film. Actually, the director must have realized that dropping Deol into the middle of a bunch of dancers for a music video was a bad idea, because eventually, he stops making Sonny try to dance and just lets him lounge about surrounded by hot, squirming chicks -- which is the way things ought to be for Sonny.
I should probably mention that the songs in this movie are awful. The score is pretty much the de rigueur "faux tribal" orchestration so common to modern adventure films, with lots of enthusiastic "Ho! Whoa ho!" chanting and percussion punctuated by flutes and that "haunting moaning" for moments of introspection and revelation. If you've seen an adventure film in the last fifteen years, you pretty much know the score. But the songs for the musical numbers -- my God! The song where they party with the pygmies is OK as it's just an extension of the score, and sounds like one of those "tribal music written by white guy" songs you hear on Globe Trekker. But then there's the "Shake what your momma gave you song" and the "freaky freaky Friday night" song -- there's a reason neither of these set the pop charts ablaze (as far as I can tell). The other song is performed when Jackie Shroff's standard issue "hot, evil mercenary chick in booty shorts" performs a little number for the goons, but honestly, I can't even remember how that sounds now, because all I can think about is that horrible "freaky freaky Friday night" song. Both Oberoi and Deol were in a bit of a slump when they starred in this film, and Naksha didn't do a whole lot to revive them. It also seems that Naksha had a pretty big budget, and adventure/treasure hunt films of this nature are pretty scarce in the overall cinematic landscape of Indian cinema. I guess Bajaj was hoping the stars and the relative uniqueness of the genre would translate into box office success. No dice, though it was a fun effort despite the box office failure and mixed reviews in India, ranging from "dumb fun" to "mindless idiocy and harbinger of the end of Indian cinema." Some felt that it wasn't "Indian" enough (for that perhaps they should watch the Sonny Deol film Indian -- I mean, how much more Indian can you get than to call your film Indian), or more accurately, that it was too Hollywood. This is a criticism that has been leveled at a lot of cinema these days -- from Hong Kong to Korea to France (could Sachin Bajaj become the Luc Besson of India??? -- I mean, I already cracked that Jackie Shroff looks like Jean Reno, so this is the next logical step), and personally, it doesn't fly with me.
We are no longer in an era of localized, regional cinema. That era died the day DVD stores and movie review websites went online. The cinema of one country has always influenced the cinema of another. Even if the audience wasn't aware, the filmmakers certainly were. Italian spectacle films of the silent era influenced American filmmakers, who set out to incorporate the larger-than-life opulence into their own films. And then the Technicolor spectacles of Hollywood during the 50s in turn revived spectacle filmmaking in Italy during the 1960s. Westerns became spaghetti westerns which in turn were heavily influenced by Japanese samurai films. And now, Hong Kong action films of the previous two decades heavily influence American films, which in turn influence Hong Kong films. Thanks to the interconnectivity of the Web, fans and even casual filmgoers are more aware of this global exchange than ever before. I mean, twenty years ago, when I first started watching Hong Kong action films, I never would have dreamed I'd hear my parents speak with familiarity about Chow Yun-fat or Michelle Yeoh. So yes -- Naksha has some very Hollywood elements. It also has some very Indian elements, as well as elements of Hong Kong cinema and Luc Besson's crop of French action films that have destroyed French film the same way Naksha and Dhoom have destroyed Indian cinema. I've never been a big fan of nation-state borders serving as barriers to artistic expression, and if the Internet has done anything positive besides deliver cheap, plentiful porn to the world, it's that it has facilitated the breakdown of walls between artists and fans across the world the way no fanzine or convention could ever dream of. So in this climate, what does it mean for a film or a genre to be "too Hollywood" or "not Indian enough?" Doesn't this confine film -- and all other forms of artistic expression -- to regionalized ghettos? If you film is an Indian film, it must fulfill these requirements, and it must not do these things. How is this mode of thinking in any way beneficial to filmmaking, or to art? How does this in any way encourage experimentation or evolution? At the same time, how does aping another country's cinema help cultivate the pieces of filmmaking that make your cinema unique on the global scene? Are we talking about genre topics, or technical aspects and camera tricks involved with filmmaking -- or does "too Hollywood" have less to do with the film and more to do with the moral values presented (for what it's worth, the moral values presented in Naksha include, "Indian mythology is awesome," "Don't conquer the world," and "stick by family")?
Of course, there's also the debate over what "destroyed such and such cinema" even means. Does applying techniques and values from Hollywood films somehow happen at the expense of obliterating that which makes another country's film unique? Isn't it possible to use the one without losing the other? I mean, Hollywood draws influence from all over the world, but no one is really saying that Hong Kong cinema destroyed Hollywood. In the end, "too Hollywood" is generally a criticism leveled at films by the same people who would still hate "Hollywood" even if they were American -- and here, Hollywood ceases to mean "Hollywood," or even "American" cinema, and instead is used as a synonym for "big, dumb popcorn movies," which are perceived by some as being automatically possessed of far less artistic merit or social value than smaller, quieter films. But then, this is again hardly an argument that restricts itself to India, or to any one country, and it has been raging pointlessly (though often times entertainingly so) since the birth of feature films. In the case of Naksha, the film did well in large cities but tanked everywhere else -- and since most of India is everywhere else, you can't really get by without it. Does a film like this represent a rift between urban areas, where perhaps people are more open to change, and rural areas, where something not identified as traditional is met with suspicion and hostility? If so, once again this is hardly a situation unique to India, but it does spotlight one of the great problems we face as our world becomes more connected and the varied cultures of the world continue to collide and meld into something new. It seems the more some people want to move ahead into this new arena, the more other people want to pull away from it. And both sides of this tug-of-war have plenty that justifies their position. I was originally -- before I derailed myself into this random thought exercise -- going to review this movie with nary a mention of "Bollywood" other than as a passing reference, because I think the role of a movie on the global scene is more important than its role in a restricted subsection, even one as large as Bollywood. Other people, with a greater sense of national pride, or a greater concern over maintaining the purity of their culture against outside influences, rather than embracing global accessibility and co-mingling, obviously don't feel the same way, and I'm not going to make proclamations on who is wrong or right, even though it's obvious where I stand. From day one of Teleport City, we have roamed the globe in search of cool and outlandish movies -- that's why a review of an Indian film that is too Hollywood contains so many references to Hong Kong films, Tony Jaa, Luc Besson, and David Warbeck. As far as I'm concerned, our regional cinema is planet Earth -- and I only use that limit because the shipping on movies from Io is so expensive and takes twenty-two years. Plus, man, who wants to watch a movie full of pretentious Ionians chain smoking and mumbling about how the view of Jupiter looming in the sky so perfectly embodies their personal existential crisis -- and from what I've seen of Ionian cinema, that's pretty much all there is, as the Ionian Luc Besson has not yet come around to destroy Ionian cinema. A review of a goofy, fun-loving flick like Naksha is hardly the best place for contemplation on the globalization and cross-pollination of culture, art, and entertainment, and this is certainly not meant as a defense of Naksha's sundry faults. It's hard to argue against anyone who claims this movie is stupid, because Naksha is pretty stupid. And that alone is enough to legitimately dismiss it as bad. I happen to have a different standard, though, and the movie was OK in my book. But what we're talking about here is not whether the film is good or bad, but whether it is too foreign or not, and whether such arguments have much meaning anymore.
I think it's valuable to look at a film in terms of its native cultural and industry context. It's important to understand the prevailing trends and cultural mores from which a film emerges. And in many ways, although people who frown upon pop culture are loathe to admit it, you can learna lot about people by learning about what people like in the pop culture and entertainment. There's no way to understand Indian films without making some effort to at least get the basics of Indian film and cultural history under your belt. At the same time, I also think it's important to remove films from that context and look at them as members of a more globalized cinema scene. In that sense, whether or not Naksha is "Bollywood enough," whatever that may mean, is hardly an important question for me. I don't care, to be honest. Others may care a lot, and that's just a matter of your point of view on things. I, personally, am not a "fan of Bollywood;" I'm a fan of film, wherever it may come from. But this debate probably deserves a more respectable forum than Naksha as reviewed by Teleport City, so I'll lay it to rest here unresolved. What matters most to me right now is, how does Naksha measure up against its contemporaries in adventure cinema from the rest of the world? And honestly, despite the obvious script gaffs and Oberoi's mugging, Naksha holds up pretty well against the rest of the pack -- but depending on how dumb you think the rest of the pack is, you may enjoy this film a lot less than I did. It's got a playful sense of adventure, decent pacing, some fun fights, nice locations, solid veterans in Shroff and Deol, an appropriately supernatural blow-out for the finale, and lots of people tearing about in Land Rovers. Theater audiences may have met the film with a resounding, "meh," if they even took the time to do that, but I have to say, I really had fun. Plus you know: kungfu fight between Sonny Deol and a guy who was like four feet tall. Crap. I think I like the "freaky freaky Friday night" song... Labels: Action: Adventure, Bollywood, Musicals, Stars: Jackie Shroff, Stars: Sonny Deol, Stars: Vivek Oberoi, Year: 2006 posted by Keith at 6:06 PM | 7 Comments Thursday, October 19, 2006Night Watch & Day Watch
NIGHT WATCH -- 2004, Russia. Starring Konstantin Khabensky, Vladimir Menshov, Valeri Zolotukhin, Mariya Poroshina, Galina Tyunina , Yuri Kutsenko, Aleksei Chadov, Zhanna Friske, Ilya Lagutenko, Viktor Verzhbitsky , Rimma Markova, Mariya Mironova, Aleksei Maklakov, Aleksandr Samojlenko, Dmitry Martynov. Directed by Timur Bekmambetov. Written by Timur Bekmambetov, Sergei Lukyanenko, and Vladimir Vasiliev. Buy it Now from Amazon.com
DAY WATCH -- 2006, Russia. Starring Konstantin Khabensky, Vladimir Menshov, Valeri Zolotukhin, Mariya Poroshina, Galina Tyunina, Yuri Kutsenko, Aleksei Chadov, Zhanna Friske, Ilya Lagutenko, Viktor Verzhbitsky, Rimma Markova, Mariya Mironova, Aleksei Maklakov, Aleksandr Samojlenko, Dmitry Martynov. Directed by Timur Bekmambetov. Written by Timur Bekmambetov, Sergei Lukyanenko, and Vladimir Vasiliev. After I finished watching the Russian fantasy-horror film (though there is very little that is scary about it, unless you are scared of vampires in velour track suits, which, come to think of it, I am) Night Watch, I had to sit and ponder what I'd just seen for a few minutes before deciding that I needed to watch it again. I usually only do this if a movie is excessively enjoyable or excessively incomprehensible. In the case of the latter, I usually rewatch it for two main reasons: 1) to see if the movie really is that convoluted and disjointed, or was I just not paying attention, and 2) I have a massive intellectual ego and utterly refuse to accept that any film, no matter how opaque, could possibly escape my vast and nigh supernatural capacity for comprehension. Or, you know, something like that (my grades from assorted physics classes I've taken over the decades will attest to the true might of my powers of comprehension). In the case of Night Watch, I was definitely watching again because I was confused. A second viewing and some quick readings of assorted summaries cleared things up for me pretty well, but at the end of it all, the experience of watching Night Watch was very close to the experience I had watching Kenji Fukasaku's Battles without Honor and Humanity for the first time. There is simply so much mythology, such a lengthy back story, and so many characters that trying to keep track of everything without a tally sheet can make your head spin. Beneath all the confusion and blurred vision it induces, however, is a fairly easy-to-follow core that is worth burrowing toward. Night Watch isn't a masterpiece, and it isn't the grand fantasy epic much of the marketing material made it out to be. It is crammed with too many camera tricks and it is indeed hard work to keep tabs on what the hell is going on. Despite all that, Night Watch, like Battles without Honor and Humanity, is worth the effort -- though you may not even realize this until you've watched the sequel, Day Watch, which is a much more coherent film than manages to make the first film a lot more comprehensible. I'm reviewing them both here as a single film, because that's pretty much what they are.
I'm late on the wagon of discussing these films, so forgive me if the history behind them is old hat to you. For those of you out there, however, who are like me and lag behind trends and what's hot by a year or two, here's the superficial lay of the land. Night Watch (aka Nochnoy Dozor) is the first part of a trilogy, followed by Day Watch (Dnevnoy Dozor) and whatever the heck the third film is going to be called. Dusk Watch or something. I think people were guessing that, but then, they were also insisting that George Romero's fourth zombie film was going to be called Dusk of the Dead, and look how that turned out for them. But I guess it makes more sense than most other times of the day. No one is really going to flock to see George Romero's Afternoon of the Dead or Timur Bekmambatov's Lunch Hour Watch. The movies were pre-ordained, in a way, as massive cult hits, and a campaign touting them as such seemed to hit the streets before the first film had even been released. Whatever they did worked, I reckon, because Night Watch became the highest grossing movie in Russian cinema history -- though I would preface that claim by freely stating that I have no idea what it takes to become the highest grossing film in Russian cinema history, and I'm not well-versed enough in modern Russian cinema to say whether Night Watch has much competition. Besides, it's not like "highest-grossing" translates to "good," even in Russia (the Russian word for "good" is pronounced "vodka"). After all, aren't those crappy Star Wars prequels some of the highest grossing films in America? And I'm pretty sure that if you discount the films of Miyazaki, the highest grossing film in Japanese history is Streets of Fire. Actually, that last one is OK. Any movie that gives us Northern Soul, Diane Lane, and Willem Dafoe in trash bag overalls is all right in my book.
All I've seen of Russian movies are those crazy fantasy films from the 1960s where big guys beat up wind demons or dudes tear around undersea kingdoms atop giant seahorses, which were pretty fun but probably not enduring blockbusters in the minds of modern Russian youths. Night Watch, on the other hand, is crammed full of visual gimmicks, grungy location work, and blaring Russian techno and metal music. So the kids can dig it. And so can I, though like I said, it took me a while, even with my tolerance for blaring Russian techno and metal music, which I have acquired courtesy of living in a largely Russian neighborhood for the past few years. I mean, I can't exactly complain. My people gave the world haggis and bagpipe music. Night Watch begins with an epic battle between the medieval forces of light and dark (which, as we'll learn through this film, don't necessarily correlate with good and evil), during which the two forces emerge as evenly matched. Faced either with mutual extinction or sorting the whole thing out, the general of light, Lord Geser (Vladimir Menshov), and the general of darkness, Zavulon (Viktor Verzhibitsky), momentarily halt time and work out the details of a truce that ends up looking a lot like your typical Russian (or any other country, for that matter) bureaucracy. The war will stop. Light and dark will not prey upon one another, and the forces of darkness -- who are somewhat vampiric in nature (though they don't necessarily follow all those rules about sunlight and whatnot) -- have to be licensed and can only feed on humans during certain previously agreed-upon periods of time. Exactly what the limitations the forces of light have placed upon them is never really made clear (at least to me), nor is the exact supernatural nature of the Light Others. To keep track of each other, two regulatory watchdog groups are formed: the Night Watch is comprised of Light Others ("Others" being the generic term for these supernatural beings who walk among us dopey, oblivious mortals) and polices the Dark Others. Conversely, the Day Watch is made up of Dark Others and keeps an eye on the Light Others, though once again, exactly what it is the Day Watch does isn't really explained. The duties of the Night Watch are pretty easy to understand: if a Dark Other gets out of line, starts killing humans during non-approved times, stuff like that, the Night Watch deals out the justice.
Both sides, however, are waiting around for a prophesized (yeah, one of those again) Other who will be more powerful even than the two immortal generals. Unlike most prophecies, however, this one isn't really all that specific. They know this uber-Other is coming, but they don't know when, and it would seem that whether he tips the scales in favor of light or dark is subject purely to his freedom of choice. Night Watch is split into two distinct plots that mingle together for the finale but don't make clear sense as being parts of the same story until Day Watch. The first plot is about a member of the Night Watch named Anton (Konstantin Khabensky), who is still something of a novice at his job and who may also be the father of the --and I shudder to use this phrase -- chosen one. We first meet Anton when he approaches a witch and asks her to cast a spell that will return his ex-wife to him (an act that will have severe consequences later on). He gets caught in the middle of things when the Night Watch show sup to bust the woman for illegally practicing magic, and not knowing what else to do with the poor guy, they induct Anton into the Night Watch. The second plot is about a young woman named Svetlana (Mariya Poroshina) who seems to be the focal point of a nexus of bad luck that manifests itself as a swirling funnel cloud of black birds and dust and threatens to destroy, at the very least, a good portion of Moscow. Neither of these ideas are particularly ground-breaking, and I didn't expect to like Night Watch that much since I have had my fill of stories about chosen ones and the eternal struggle between light and dark. However, Night Watch doesn't seem overly concerned with fulfilling all the hoary old clichés of these types of films, just as it seems uninterested in playing to what has become the modern image of the vampire as a sort of moping, soul-searching goth rocker with a silly made-up medieval sounding name. Instead, these vampires, shapeshifters, seers, witches, psychics, and whatever the Day watch people are, are strictly working class slobs. Rather than flashy cars, they drive utility trucks They pound vodka, wear sweatpants, and go about their supernatural wonderworld with a surly workmanlike weariness. I'm reminded in many ways of the similar approach to the fantastic that was taken by Hellboy. For humans, this is an incredible world of immortals, vampires, magic, space warping, and other mind-blowing stuff. For the people engaged with it on a daily basis, it's just the usual grind.
The entire cast plays the film perfectly, and they actually act rather than taking the standard American approach, which is to mumble and furrow your brow. Despite the convoluted nature of the film and the tendency it has to lose track of itself and, as a result, lose the viewer, it's still very easy to believe that each of these characters is an actual person. Working on the script, Timur Bekmambetov may fail to connect the dots of the plot itself, but he does manage to create some really likeable and believable characters, which alone makes Night Watch better than most contemporary horror, science fiction, and fantasy films. Viewers can sympathize with Anton in much the same way they might sympathize with Bunta Sugawara's character in Battles without Honor and Humanity. Like him, we're sort of thrown into the middle of a very long, complicated story, and we don't always have a clear idea of what the hell is going on. Like them, we are everyday Joes thrust into a situation that is way over our heads. Equally effective is the characterization of Zavulon, the leader of the Darks, who at this point we can't even peg as a villain. He's just on the other side, but there's not much he does that is evil. He wants to control the chosen one, but so do the Lights. Oddly, he looks a lot to me like Peter Stormare, the guy who played Satan in the much maligned Constantine film (which I actually rather liked), and his character is very similar to Stormare's portrayal of big sugardaddy Lucifer. I'd also compare him to Sam Hans, the flamboyant and completely likeable villain in the otherwise hilariously awful Indian film, Asambav -- but that may be as much for characterization as it is for the simple reason that both he and Zavulon seem to have a preference for gaudy, silk shirts.
Where the script falls apart, but not in a way that ruins the film for me, is in the plot itself, which as I think I've already communicated is rather on the convoluted side. based on a novel by the same name, Bekmambetov tried to cram an entire mythology into his film, and in an attempt to keep it packed to the gills with weird stuff, we never get a full handle on just what the heck is happening. Supernatural powers come out of the blue and don't conform to any previously established "rules" or roles. some characters are sort of vampires, but they don't have the same weaknesses of vampires, just as they have a lot of powers one doesn't normally attribute to vampires. The author of the novels also had a hand in adapting his own work for the screen, which almost never goes well. Fiction authors tend to either be too familiar with their own characters, and thus leave out huge chunks of information that may be known to them or to readers but not to filmgoers, or they are so in love with their own creation (writing a novel is difficult work, after all), that they can't bear to cut anything out, resulting in piles of exposition and things thats imply don't work in a movie. Night Watch, curiously, seems to suffer from both of these afflictions. And even after finishing Day Watch (also based on a novel, I still have no idea what the Lights are or why Anton is sometimes a vampire. There's a whole subplot spent on an airliner that is threatened with disaster as a result of Svetlana's bad mojo tornado, but that never ends up having much to do with anything and is ultimately resolved with very little more than a throwaway line to the effect of, "Oh, that airplane ended up being OK." Luckily, decent characters and a heady sense of delirium make it easy to surrender to the peculiarities of the story and just roll with it.
What Night Watch gets the most attention for is its visual style, which is derived from just about every flashy movie of the past ten years. Bekmambetov has never seen a weird editing, camera, or CGI trick he didn't like, and he tried to cram as many of them as possible into the film. Sometimes it works well, other times less so, and if the overall style of the film contributes to the lack of cohesion in the narrative, it also serves to keep you interested even when you've lost track of what is going on. Normally, I am put off by over-directed, hyper-stylized films that use visuals and computer animation tricks to compensate for being lousy in every other way. Looking good is no longer enough, because any movie these days can achieve similar results, and many have but have also not forgotten to include a compelling narrative. Night Watch is odd in that it wallows in gratuitous stylization, yet it never got irritating for me. I have no real explanation for why that is the case. It may be that the strength of the characters and the overall weirdness of what was going on was enough to make me overlook the visual overkill. Instead of being tedious and self-indulgent, Night Watch ends up being fun and self-indulgent. Some of the effects are better realized than others, but I don't think there was ever a concerted effort to make all the effects completely believable. The cruder ones add rather than detract to the overall otherworldly feel of the movie, and even though they are layered on thicker than the sugary icing of a supermarket birthday cake, the effects all work together to warp reality rather than create an entirely new universe. The Moscow of Night Watch is recognizable as the real world. A grubby, dreary, post-Communist real world full of cinderblock tenements, but reality never the less. By plopping his effects smack down in the middle of this very real looking world, Bekmambetov succeeds in making his movie even more effective. This is our world -- but with something not quite right about it.
Day Watch picks up almost immediately where Night Watch ends, and manages to retain the first films strengths while noticeably improving upon the weaknesses. Day Watch has much more focused, easy to follow narrative: the chosen one has been found, and he's made his choice. Now it's up to one side to retain him and the other side to convince him to jump ship. Meanwhile, it turns out that there might be more to Svetlana and her powers (she is a junior Night Watch member by this second film) that make her a potential rival for the chosen one -- or perhaps everyone is wrong, and she is the chosen one. I don't know if that was the impression I was supposed to get, but I did. Day Watch also introduces us to the Chalk of Fate, easily one of the least impressive all-powerful relics of all time. Although I ended up quite liking Night Watch, everything about Day Watch is even better. Anton is further developed as a character, and even gets to swap bodies with his female partner when he is set up for the murder of one of the Darks. This act ends up serving as the impetus for Zavulon attempting to goad the Night Watch into breaking the long-standing truce, so that he can finally start the war up again. But the real stand-out character for me this time around was Alisa, played by Russian pop star and all around scantily-clad media icon Zhanna Friske. From what I hear, she had a twenty-minute long sex scene (there is very little -- if any -- nudity in either film, by the way) that was cut from the final product, which upset both her and me. Shame on you, Timur Bekmambetov. You could have at least included it as an extra on the DVD. Not that I would have watched it or anything.
Alisa emerges as the strongest character in the second film, though that could be mostly because she dresses fabulous, has a cool spiky haircut with devil horns, and drives a sports car up the side of a building. In a fantasy world inhabited by vampires in their boxers and old man tank top undershirts, she's the flashy one. She's also a great character: Zavulon's right-hand, so to speak, committed to the Dark cause, but beginning to think that maybe Zavulon is getting a little out of control in his efforts to frame Anton and spark the breaking of the peace treaty. I have no idea what her reputation is like in Mother Russia, but she's wonderful in this movie. Plus, you know, she looks damn good in that slinky cocktail dress she puts on for the finale. Speaking of which, if there's one place where Night Watch trumps Day Watch, it's in the finale. Night Watch wraps up with a showdown atop a high rise apartment building surrounded by swirling tornadoes of birds and is highlighted by Zavulon ripping out his own spine to use as a sword. By contrast, Day Watch has a more subdued finale, but remember -- that's only in comparison to a guy ripping out his own spine to use as a sword. Only on that scale could a yo-yo that destroys half of Moscow be considered "subdued." Both films are well worth watching, and if the herky-jerky storytelling of night watch puts you off, I would still urge you to give Day Watch a try. It makes things much easier to understand. I have absolutely no idea where the series goes from day Watch, which ends in a way that would seem to wrap the story up. Having not read the books by Sergei Lukyanenko and Vladimir Vasiliev, I don't know where the story goes from here (nor do I know how closely the films resemble the books, or if everything would make perfect sense if only I'd read the novels), but I'm excited to find out. Although I was puzzled, perhaps even frustrated at first, while watching Night Watch, by the end of Day Watch I was feeling pretty damn good about Bekmambetov's series. It's imaginative, unconventional, and despite the fact that the dazzle and flash may overshadow things, it's as ambitious storywise as it is visually. Given the sordid state of modern horror, fantasy, and science fiction films, it's great to see a film that combines all three into such a dizzying but enjoyable celebration of filmmaking. Labels: Country: Russia, Fantasy, Horror: Creepy Cults, Horror: Vampires, Year: 2004, Year: 2006 posted by Keith at 3:31 PM | 2 Comments Thursday, September 07, 2006Blood Oath
2006, United States. Starring Natalie Hart, Roger Horn, Jamie Reynolds, Katie Vaughan, Pat Holt, Tiffany Shepis, Tina Krause, Enrique Camacho, J. Thomas Bailey, Angela Schmidt, Stephanie Vickers, Jamie Alford, Sarah Bloodworth, Alex Kendall. Drected by David Buchert. Written by David Meier Smith.
I'll kick this off with a disclaimer right up front: I not only know the guy who directed this movie, but have in fact known him since high school when we occasionally became involved in making videos for class projects. If you've ever looked at the AFI's list of top 100 films, you might have seen such titles as Richard the Protagonist (being a thrilling tale of the discovery of America by men who arrived in a 1986 Honda Civic) and the epic Papa MacBeth. Anyway, I'm pretty sure those are on the list, though I haven't checked myself. Needless to say, reviewing a film from someone you have known and liked for nigh these past seventeen or eighteen years (Jesus...) is tricky. Especially when that film is a micro-budget horror film about a group of people being stalked through the woods by a maniacal killer. There's a lot of movies like that. A whole lot. And almost all of them are awful. Not just awful; torturous. They're torturous because the people making them usually have an abysmal script, irritating characters who bicker through the entire movie, slow pacing brought on as a result of incompetent editing, and nary a single instance of originality in the entire film. When you've heard the story a million times, the millionth and first time you hear it better be good, because if it isn't, then the whole thing is even more boring and tedious than it would be if you hadn't already heard the story a million times. Telling an old story well is a worthwhile endeavor. Telling an old story in an incompetent and boring fashion is something that really steams my monkeys. I am less biased by the fact that another friend for an equally long time is seen in the pre-credit prologue getting a blow job then having his head (the one attached to his neck) chopped off. It's not that he's any less of a friend; it's just that I resent being tricked into watching any friend pretend to get a blowjob. As far as I'm concerned, he deserved to be decapitated for that. Plus, all sex is dirty and wrong, as you all no doubt already know.
With this disclaimer dutifully laid down, allow me to issue another. In the past, I have judged micro-budget indy productions by different and far more forgiving standards than I would a glossy, polished, big-studio affair like, say, For Y'ur Height Only. To some degree, this still holds true. I don't expect modest horror films made by horror film fans to have the high-tech sheen of a multi-million dollar production, or even a million dollar production, or frankly, even and hundred-thousand-dollar production. However, what I do expect is decent writing and an entertaining time. Those don't cost very much, and a movie of any scale should be able to deliver them to me. You don't get points from me anymore for simply having made a film. I know it's hard work, and it's a great personal achievement, but if I write a shitty novel, no one compliments me on the fact that, "at least you wrote a book." So technical considerations might get a pass; entertainment value considerations do not. Finally, I am not nearly in touch with the horror underground as I used to be, which is something I'd like to rectify in the coming months since it is as fun as it is goofy. So I'm not up on the more recent filmmakers (other than my favorite punching bag, Brad Sykes) and thus not really equipped to compare Blood Oath to, say Dante Tomaselli's Satan's Playground or anyone else who might be toiling away in the trenches. I used to know a lot about this stuff, but I've been out of touch ever since Todd Sheets and movies like Splatter Farm. I need to play some catch-up, so listen up all you budding horror film directors: send me your damn movies. Well, unless it's one of those "a chilling ride alongside a serial killer" type films. I hate those. And with all that out of the way, we can delve into the world of Blood Oath, which fails to differ itself from the countless other "maniac in the woods" films (or in remote Texas farmhouses, since the movie owes a debt to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, among others) thanks to no real deviation from exactly the plot you expect it to have, but does differ itself by offering up undeveloped but otherwise likable characters who don't spend inordinate amounts of time yelling and arguing with each other, as well as some good direction that isn't intrusive or full of technical trickery (as in all that flashy, hyperactive editing and pointless "slow motion to super-fast motion then back to slow motion nonsense in so many horror and action movies these days). The movie begins with a prologue in which a couple fooling around in the woods (Enrique "Papa MacBeth" Camacho and micro-budget horror mainstay Tiffany Shepis) are rudely interrupted by...a cell phone call. The fact that this guy is willing to interrupt oral sex from Tiffany Shepis in order to answer his cell phone means he's just asking for a decapitation, which is exactly what he gets. And Tiffany meets a quick and gory end as well, resulting in her part being just a cameo, but hell, she's a welcome addition to any film, even if just for a couple minutes. The scene goes on a little too long (after all, we know these people are basically out there to get killed), but not so long that it becomes infuriating. The decapitation effect is as bad as it is funny (wisely, it is the only real foray away from practical effects and into the realm of digital effects). All in all, though, it's a more promising start than in 99% of micro-budget horror films, thanks largely to the fact that Shepis is a decent actress and Camacho isn't far behind. The slightly bad news is that the film's best actors just got killed off before the credits.
From there, it's a pretty predictable script about a group of people on a camping trip who hear a legend about a murder house and the psychopath who lives there. Naturally, they go searching for it, and exactly what you expect to happen, happens. The psycho and the house are reminiscent of Leatherface and his abode in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre -- complete with gender-bending weirdness. The local legend and camping are reminiscent of (dare I invoke the unspeakable title) Blair Witch, though this movie is a straight-forward narrative and not a fake documentary, and it's not like "campers get killed" was invented by that film. Pretty much every other "killer in the woods" film shares moments with Blood Oath, since none of them ever bother to try and be the least bit different from one another. David Meier Smith's script never dares stray from exactly what you expect it to do, and this hurts the pace of the film somewhat. Blood Oath isn't actually poorly paced, but sometimes it seems that way simply because you know what's going to happen and, as a result, you tends to get impatient waiting for it to happen. Part of the problem lies with the scenario, but part of it lies in the fact that the four principal players aren't really that interesting, so spending time with them is a little duller than spending time with someone like Vincent Price, who could be doing nothing but reading the receipt from his last trip to the grocery store and it would still seem enthralling. The leads here simply aren't very strong, and none of them are especially good actors (though most of them aren't especially bad, either, which is a welcome digression from the micro-budget norm). However, they each enjoy the saving grace of not being wretched, vile human beings. Horror films, both big and tiny, tend to suffer from the desire to make their main group of characters as horrible, unsympathetic, and unlikable as possible, resulting in a movie full of shrieking, bitchy assholes. This is supposed to make watching them die seem more satisfying, but mostly I just find it intolerable. Rather than make the death more satisfying, it only makes it more boring since, really, why should I even give a damn? Why would anyone even hang out with most of the people in a horror film? Only reality TV manages to pack in more hateful, grating characters. Blood Oath's quartet of leads may not be developed characters, but at least you can understand why they would have friends. They're decent folk, likable even, and up until the very end, they behave like actual human beings might behave in a given situation. The male leads (Roger Horn and Jamie Reynolds) are a bit weaker as actors than the females (Natalie Hart and Katie Vaughan), but honestly, we're still light years above the average Brad Sykes actor. And at least no one resorts of pointless "head clutching," the most ridiculous way to express "fear and panic" as discussed way back in 1998 when we reviewed Todd Sheets shot on video micro-budget horror "classic" Goblin (although there is a little too much of the runner-up, "curling up into fetal position). In fact, if you want all my reflections on DIY horror films and the trials of making such a movie, then rather than repeat myself here, I suggest you also take time out to read the reviews both of Goblin and Twisted Issues. Actually, reflecting on Goblin and comparing it to something like Blood Oath makes me realize how far we've come in many respects. I mean, I even liked Goblin, but it's obvious Blood Oath represents a quantum leap above the beloved shot-on-video homebrew horror films of my younger days. Acting may still be bad, but many micro-budget films now have access to a network of independent horror film regulars that almost count as a professional pool of talent. Editing is light years ahead, thanks largely to the advent of digital video and editing, which frees the editor from having to deal with bulky, difficult-to-control linear VHS editing systems that meant you could only have a maximum one or two passes at a film before the VHS would degrade to the point that it would start becoming unusable.
Blood Oath does boast decent editing, better even than many of its contemporary films that tend to linger pointlessly on boring scenes because someone was too lazy to edit the scene down. The only time Blood Oath lingers pointlessly is during its gratuitous nudity (courtesy of a group of female hikers who pop up out of nowhere specifically to show their boobs and get killed), but as you all know by now, pointlessly lingering over gratuitous nudity is something of which I whole-heartedly approve. Director Dave Buchert shows some real talent for his chosen profession. Inexperienced directors tend to either demand way too much directorial/camera intervention, resulting in intrusive direction similar to what you get in most bigger-budget horror and action films, or they set their camera up on a tripod and film scenes as if they were being acted out on a stage, with no edits and no motion at all. Buchert moves the camera around, but we're not delving into shaky-cam territory or anything. He goes for interesting angles and framing and seems to actually be trying to do a good job, as opposed to many micro-budget directors who turn in directorial jobs that stink of, "I have no talent and don't give a damn about this movie anyway." Buchert obviously has some talent, and he obviously gives a damn, and that results in a much more enjoyable movie. The film's psycho, once revealed, is more irritating than terrifying (and the rags in which it is clad look less like the rags of a forest-dwelling psycho and more like a nice, clean patchwork quilt -- quite a feat for a freak chopping up wayward campers and with apparently only the one set of clothes), and the "final girl" twist that gets introduced doesn't really seem to have much of a point. Although the film manages to avoid eye-rolling "why the hell would anyone do that" moments for most of the running time, that starts to fall apart during the end when characters run back into the murder house for no other reason than the script demands it of them. And people do tend to linger and take a break at moments when any other person would just high tail it out of there. Once again, the predictability of the script works against the movie and one finds oneself getting impatient with the running about, since we already know where it's going to lead. I find myself sometimes shouting, "Get on with it!" even when something is happening. The script just makes it seem like the movie isn't getting on with things, even when it is. Lest it sound like I'm kicking the screenwriter too much (writers are always meanest to other writers, after all), I should point out that, aside from decently likable characters, there are several things the script does well. For starters, it manages to generate some moments of genuine suspense. Well, maybe suspense isn't exactly the correct term. Something close to that. Although I've already picked on the fact that the plot is strictly by-the-books and thus makes the movie seem slower in spots than it really is, there are also points at which the predictability of the action contributes to heightening the tension, especially during the scenes where our intrepid quartet of Scoobie Doo kids explore the inevitable derelict farmhouse. We know it's going to end bad, and in this case -- at least for me -- that serves to make these moments sort of fun. Of course, there's the obligatory "what the hell?" moment where, after escaping the house of terrors and the killer within, some of the characters turn around and run back inside the house. I always hate it when scripts demand that characters so something colossally stupid just to move the story along, and running back inside the house where you know a killer in a bad dress is rampaging about has got to rank up there pretty high on the list of dumb things you can do, right below killing Sho Kosugi's son or stealing something from Tony Jaa's village.
Back to the good, however, the finale is pretty well paced and well-shot, and is an example of how you can take the well-worn scene and make it good simply by executing it well. Once the film hits the final dozen minutes or so -- ie, when the action takes over from the plotting -- the editing, direction, acting, and pacing all click. How the movie is going to end was never in doubt, but Buchert and crew manage to make it a pretty fun ride regardless. Nailing the ending means that it becomes easy to forget the film's missteps throughout the rest of the running time, and the result of that is that I turned the film off, shrugged my shoulders, and thought to myself, "Well, that wasn't half bad." Blood Oath also has the wisdom to stick to the woods and an abandoned house. Many are the micro-budget films that flaunt their cheapness by trying to pass someone's unfinished basement off as a strip club or their bedroom off as an FBI office. Horror films often stick to the woods because they're free and you don't have to do much work on sets. They allow you to mask the fact that you don't have much money by putting you in a position where you don't have to show off sets. Like Versus, Blood Oath successfully masks budgetary restraints by living within its means and not trying to pass off someone's dining room as a top secret government research facility. At the end of the day, Blood Oath is the rare micro-budget horror film that is more good than bad, and though it has obvious flaws in the scripting and acting departments (and the acting is never so egregiously bad that I can't just roll with it), it manages to be a more enjoyable horror film than most horror films I've watched recently (and that includes not just micro-budget junk like Goth, but also big-budget junk like Hostel and those Saw movies -- oh, how I loathe you, Hostel and those Saw movies). It's well-directed, decently edited, and boasts characters you can easily tolerate. These "killer in the woods" films are sort of a horror filmmaker rite of passage. I think everyone has to make one before they can move on to anything else. Blood Oath doesn't do anything different or overly interesting with the formula, but it does apply the formula in a decent fashion. Even if Dave wasn't a friend of mine, I'd probably still be giving Blood Oath high marks for directing and overall technical craftsmanship. And even though as a writer I harp endlessly on the relative weakness of the script, I still came out of Blood Oath heaving a sigh of relief over the realization that I really did think the film was all right, and I could write an honest review of it and not feel like I was sticking a dagger into someone's heart. Well, at least not very far. Labels: Horror: Microbudget, Horror: Slashers, Horror: Vacation Horror, Year: 2006 posted by Keith at 11:58 AM | 5 Comments |
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