Movie Review #46

Snatch (2000)
Written and Directed by Guy Ritchie

Rating: 8.50/10.00 or *** 1/2

Avi: You got a toothbrush? We're going to London. You hear that, Doug? I'm coming to London.
A ticket, a shot, and a plane ride later...
Doug: Avi...
Avi: Sit down and shut up, you big, bald fuck. I don't like leaving my country Doug, and I especially don't like leaving it for anything less then sandy beaches, and cocktails with little straw hats.
Doug: Avi, we have sandy beaches...
Avi: So? Who wants to see 'em?

Guy Ritchie is the indisputable master of the caper. As his follow-up to the brilliant Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, Ritchie scores once again in this laugh-a-second thrill ride through London's underworld of crime, illegal boxing, botched robberies, scavengous swine, and infinite idiocy. Ritchie brings this world alive with a zealousness that few, if any, directors could achieve. With clever, persistently stinging dialogue, Snatch never ceases to entertain. There is not one decent soul in this film, but with the buffoonery afoot in this flick, one can't help but like every one of these characters, too.

In a relative sense, there are "good guys" and "bad guys" in this movie...and Ritchie has quite possibly crafted the most sinister villain in the caper genre. The villain is known as Brick Top, a slurry, vicious, and cold-blooded ruler of the gambling/boxing underworld. As the "protagonist" of the film describes, "Brick Top's way of doing business is with a stun gun, a plastic bag, a roll of tape, and a pack of hungry pigs." Alan Ford's portrayal of Brick Top is mind-blowingly scary. He just screams evil every time he's on screen.

The protagonist, meanwhile, is Turkish (Jason Statham). A smart, if not slightly toolish, man who has gotten himself into a real jam. It all started with a boxing match starring his chosen fighter, Gorgeous George (Adam Fogerty). So how in the world did he come across Doug the Head and an 86-karat diamond? Well, let's pull back a minute and describe the plot in stream-of-conscious style...

A bunch of thugs led by Frankie Four Fingers (Benicio del Toro) steal an 86-karat diamond from a presitgious bank in Antwerp. Frankie then goes to London, where he is supervised by Doug the Head (Mike Reid). Frankie is tipped off that he should meet Boris the Blade (Rade Serbedgia), who shall provide excellent hospitality before he returns to the U.S. to provide Avi (Dennis Farina) the stone. Meanwhile, Boris the Blade is aware that Frankie has the diamond. Using a tip that Frankie is quite the gamblin' man, Boris sells Frankie a gun in exchange for a bet on a certain illegal boxing match since Frankie becomes quite the wild one after his gambling begins. We now have a connection to Brick Top, Turkish, Turkish's partner in crime Tommy (Stephen Graham), Gorgeous George, and supporting crews.

Turkish needs a new office (i.e., caravan). So he sends Tommy and Gorgeous George out to a Gypsy farm. We now meet Mickey (Brad Pitt), who swindles Tommy and George into buying an immobile caravan. When Gorgeous George challenges Mickey to a duel, we find that Mickey is capable of knocking a big man unconscious in one swing. Unfortunately, Gorgeous George becomes incapable of fighting in the upcoming boxing match. So now Turkish has to report to Brick Top that he must change fighters...

Brick Top: I don't care if he's Muhammad I'm hard Bruce Lee. You can't change fighters.

So now Turkish owes one to Brick Top, a position he most certainly did not want to be in. But when Mickey does not do what Brick Top asks Turkish to have him do, the trouble really begins. Of course, I haven't even begun to introduce Sol, Vinny, Tyrone, and Bullet Tooth Tony...and still haven't shown why Turkish would be directly involved with the 86-karat diamond and a big, bald guy named Doug the Head.

Don't worry, though, because the film is amazingly easy to follow. And even if it isn't, it's still a grand ol' time.

One thing that is not easy to follow, however, is the coherence of the dialogue. It requires much attention, especially with the thick English accents and the quickened pace of the film. However, it becomes much easier to understand as the movie progresses. All except for Mickey, of course, who was purposely made incomprehensible (sort of as a retort by Ritchie to critics of Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels).

The point here is that Ritchie wants the viewers to have fun. The film is nearly completely comedic in tone, and Ritchie delivers some whoppers. Boris the Blade, a.k.a., Boris the Bullet Dodger (Avi: Why is he called the Bullet Dodger? Bullet Tooth Tony: 'Cause he dodges bullets.), provides some of the most uproarious moments with his tangent, mumbling commentary and bullet-dodgery antics. Dennis Farina is phenomenal as Avi; Farina relishes his role and delivers with line after line. "I'm gettin' heartburn. Tony, do something terrible."

There are multiple side-splitting gunshot scenes. "Avi, pull your socks up" begins one of them; Avi ends another one. Perhaps the best physical humor comes during a multiple car/single pedestrian accident, though (I realize how terrible it sounds, but the hilarity of the scene only shows the brilliance behind it). The physical humor is far outdone, however, by the oral comedy. Ritchie's dialogue is full of cadence, which gives the film an edgy, energetic feel enhancing each scene's inevitably hilarious outcome.

Snatch is a wonderfully fun film. It's impossible not to smile at the incompetence these men exude in the gritty back streets of London. The actors must have had a blast when filming, and the energy that they show on screen definitely heightens the fun had when one watches it. This motion picture is a must-see.

Movie Review #45

Once Upon a Time in America (1984)
Directed by Sergio Leone
Written by Leonardo Benvenuti & Piero De Bernardi & Enrico Merdioli & Franco Arcalli & Franco Ferrini & Sergio Leone
With Extra Dialogue by Stuart Kaminsky
Uncredited: Ernesto Gastaldi
Based on the novel "The Hoods" by Harry Grey

Rating: 9.25/10.00 or ****

There are numerous great movies, but there are very few masterpieces. The difference between a great movie and a masterpiece is difficult to describe. Like the Supreme Court's definition of pornography, I know the difference when I see it. Once Upon a Time in America has the distinction of eliminating those differences. It is a great movie, and it is most certainly a masterpiece.

I've been pondering how to review the film. I could describe the progression of the film, but that would over-simplify the complex and masterful structure director Sergio Leone developed. I could describe the style in which the film is presented, but words are not enough to credit the filmmakers. I could describe the acting, but the acting was much more of an envelopment of the characters than a representation of them.

There are only a select number of films in which the development and transitions have been presented so smoothly. What is even more impressive is that the film approaches four hours in length. There are rumors out there that Sergio Leone's original plan was for a 10-hour epic. Adding 6 hours to this film would not necessarily be harmful since the complexity of the four hours we are shown is mind-blowing. Once more, Leone never once let the film drag. I've squirmed in my seat during a 90-minute movie, but I never once checked my watch or drifted my attention away from this approximately 240-minute tale.

The opening thirty minutes of the film is a series of short but brutally powerful sequences involving most of the major players in the film. The first scene involves the cold killing of a woman. The second scene involves the torture of a man who must give away the answer to a most important question. And then we meet Noodles (Robert De Niro), who finds his way into a Chinatown opium den. He has a lot on his mind. He has found out about the murder of his girl, he has no money left for him, but there's something else that bothers him more. We can see it in his eyes. And then a sound effect to tower above its competition from that point forward. The simple ring of a phone.

What follows is a lengthy bit-by-bit sequence of visuals that tell the tale of the story without any help from dialogue and chronology. We are given a montage and are asked to remember each and every part of the montage until the film unwraps itself. Through all of the brief glimpses of settings, people, and emotions, we hear that phone ring. And it rings...and rings...each time becoming slightly more elevated in intensity. The ability to take in each scene is slowly eliminated. The thought on my mind: Who will answer that phone?

Leone's mastery of storytelling is evident here. He can show you everything in the world, but he allows the viewer to focus on one thing. The film is narcotic; you become so attached to the screen that there's nothing in the world to take you away from it. Leone's ability to do this for four hours is beyond question amazing.

Noodles finds his way to a train station and exits. This is the end of the story, but it is only the beginning of the details. Slowly we find that there are three stories to be told, one in Noodles's childhood, one in his young adult life, and one in his old age. The stories involve friendship, loyalty, crime, greed, passion, and betrayal. Leone effortlessly intertwines the stories into a coherent web. Transitions are second nature; every scene makes sense and could not possibly be presented in a different order. Some of Leone's transitions are startling (One involves a frisbee), but none of them are forced.

It amazes me to learn that the film was originally edited for American theaters in which over an hour of the film was completely cut and the film was presented chronologically. I personally would like to punish the editors responsible for that product by locking them in a room with no key with the edited version of Once Upon a Time in America playing over and over again. How could the thought have ever been considered with such a tremendous motion picture?

As much as I love the opening thirty minutes of the film, it is the last thirty minutes that are the most astonishing, the most impressive, and the most memorable. It involves two aged men, both unbelievably wrought with regret for similar reasons. As we watch these two men, we remember those first 30 minutes, we hear that phone ring, and we dread the point that the film has inevitably reached. The film has come full circle. The final scenes are a powerful blow to the stomach. Leone uses a sense of mysterious simplicity here. The film finally begins to breathe at this point, but in so doing, we are frozen--unable to make a sound.

After one of the most powerful sequences ever to be shown on screen, the film concludes with a return to the opium den, and young-adult Noodles awakens from a drug-induced trance. He develops a smile. Touche.

Movie Review #44

The Big Kahuna (1999)
Directed by John Swanbeck
Written by Roger Rueff, based on his play, "The Hospitality Suite"

Rating: 7.75/10.00 or *** 1/2

The Big Kahuna is a look at three people's lives in different stages while they attend a business convention in Wichita, KS. The set, for the most part, is a hotel suite that the company they work for (Lodestar Laboratories) reserves. The goal of the business convention is to woo a high-stakes businessman into buying industrial lubricants from the company. This high-stakes businessman is referred to as "the Big Kahuna."

It becomes clear fairly quickly into the film, however, that the three people asked to represent Lodestar Laboratories have different intentions due to their differing (and often clashing) personalities as well as their corresponding stages in life. Bob (Peter Facinelli) is at his first convention. Although somewhat modest, he occasionally shows a blatant arrogance that often clashes with the other two. Bob is young, deeply religious, fairly confident in himself, and unknowingly blind to others' needs and desires.

Larry (Kevin Spacey) is blunt, driven, and somewhat paranoid. He has reached middle age, but his drive remains as fiery as a teenager. Larry is sarcastic, occasionally humorous, and outspoken; he's a true cynic. His friend and business partner for 12 years is Phil (Danny DeVito). Phil has apparently found his mid-life crisis, as he faces a tough divorce and an overwhelming sense of regret with his life. Phil is quieter than the other two; he is also the wisest.

The Big Kahuna does not focus on the sale of industrial lubricants to a rich businessman. This is simply the backdrop...the reason the three characters are together. The Big Kahuna is an extended conversation among the three of them, sometimes all together and sometimes two at a time. By the conclusion of the movie, topics ranging from religious beliefs to personal troubles to the purpose behind business conventions are discussed.

Roger Rueff (who wrote the screenplay based off his play) interestingly intertwines the topics of conversation, showing the similarities and differences between religion and business. It becomes clear that the best businessman of the three may be Bob, but his product is not industrial lubricants. His product is religion. Larry's focus is on the sale of the company's product. Phil's focus is on understanding the two "products," not in selling them. The Big Kahuna looks at three characters that could just be one person at three different stages in life.

Thus, the real brilliance of The Big Kahuna is not the dialogue or the acting...it's the presentation. The three characters clash due to their desires, their beliefs, and their intent. Before long, however, Phil becomes the referee of the other two...as his growing understanding of life begins to take hold. Larry and Bob aren't entirely sure what life is nor how to act in it. Through all of this, however, it is fairly easy to see that the three characters are essentially the same character. This is especially noted in two scenes of the film, both involving either Larry or Bob personally conversing with Phil...when the transition to the next stage of life is hinted.

An especially provocative scene unfolds near the conclusion of The Big Kahuna. Larry and Bob "come to blows" due to their clashing personalities. After Larry leaves after voicing an apology, Phil defines "character" to Bob. DeVito nails this scene; as Phil, he subtly reprimands Bob for his actions and his behavior toward other people...but in a resoundingly personal way. Phil is reflecting on his own behavior when he was younger. Bob's reaction feels like a small dent in a solidly built car. The acting in this sequence is masterful, due largely to DeVito's hushed tone.

The Big Kahuna is virtually plotless and visually uninteresting. However, neither of these characteristics is the intent of the writer and the director of the film. A huge positive in the final product is that the writer and the director never detract from the heart of the movie. At no point in the film does the director become annoyingly artistic; similarly, the writer remains focused on the original intent. The film transpires smoothly and effectively.

However, the film's slow pace is at times more harmful than it is helpful. This is especially noticed about thirty minutes into the film when it seems as if Larry will never stop talking. He does, but it takes a while. Kevin Spacey performs well in this movie, but he relishes the role so much that at times the character he portrays is not really what the character is meant to be. Spacey seems to grow into his role, however, as the film transpires. His scenes alone with DeVito near the end of the movie are riveting.

In a world where religion and business seem to go hand in hand, a film like The Big Kahuna is not entirely suprising. However, The Big Kahuna's analysis at the links between the two and their resonance with three stages of life is intelligently presented. "As soon as you lay your hands on a conversation to steer it, it's not a conversation anymore; it's a pitch. And you're not a human being, you're a marketing rep." Who among us hasn't felt that way during a telemarketing call or in a conversation regarding religious beliefs? Concepts like these make The Big Kahuna a pleasantly poignant motion picture.