Copyright © 2000 by Michael
Segers, all rights reserved
Several
"chick flicks" have come to market lately, Erin Brockovich and Where
the Heart Is, most notably. Now, Hollywood is giving us three testosterone
injections, in some boy-joys, to prove, as ‘Enry ‘Iggins sings, "By and
large, we are a marvelous sex." We have Frequency promising to make
grown men cry, and U-571 finally answering the question, "How many
submariners does it take to kick Erin’s butt out of the number-one spot?"
Although the answer is a whole submarine full, we can be glad about Gladiator.
For this week’s links to other online critics, I’m looking to women who can
keep our dry feet firmly on the ground. Bless their hearts full of noble
thoughts, it sometimes takes a woman to do that.
Frequency
Starring:
Frank
Sullivan - Dennis Quaid
John
Sullivan - James Caviezel
Written
by Toby Emmerich
Directed
by Gregory Hoblit
Runtime
117 minutes; rated PG-13 for violence
Sometimes, the pressure of several tons of water on a sub is nothing compared to the pressure of, oh, something as insignificant as a little common sense on a movie plot. I can sink to the depths of the absurdity of the plot of U-571, but try as I might, I just cannot get below the surface of Frequency. It is a good enough, decent enough film, I suppose, but it seems to fall into a strange little movie trendlet these days, the warm and fuzzy horror film, which aims not for the jugular but for the heart. Think of The Sixth Sense and The Green Mile. It’s hard to get as cozy with a film about a serial killer as the film invites us to be, and it’s just as hard to swallow some of the absurdities of the plot.
In 1999, John, a policeman, manages (don’t ask how) to get in touch with his fireman father Frank who died in a fire thirty years earlier. John actually figures out a way to help his father avoid his death that—are you still with me?—gets us (yes, you are a part of this) involved with a serial killer. Gee, I’m sorry. I was really cheering this film on. I wanted it to work. I was even willing to work with it, swallow my pride and my disbelief… but I could not swallow a bunch of other stuff. Everything just seems thrown together. It’s a sad fact, but when you start tampering with the most basic laws of cause and effect, not to mention messing with the orderly flow of time, you have to be very careful. Unfortunately, director Hoblit and writer Emmerich aren’t.
Since the Aurora Borealis is something of a star in this film, check out this incredibly detailed article (which even touches on the mystical beliefs associated with the phenomenon in this film and in folklore) from a Norwegian magazine in English, the default language of the Internet—
http://www.imv.uit.no/english/science/publicat/waynorth/wn1/contents.htm
Susan Granger offers her insights on this film and several others (you’ll have to scroll down) at her entertaining and informative site—
http://www.susangranger.com/reviews.htm
U-571
Starring:
Lt.
Andrew Tyler - Matthew McConaughey
Lt.
Commander Mike Dahlgren - Bill Paxton
Chief
Klough - Harvey Keitel
Lt. Pete Emmett - Jon Bon Jovi
Written
and directed by Jonathan Mostow
Runtime
115-120 minutes; rated PG-13 for violence
Hollywood
is stuck in a time warp, with several films of the
"they-don’t-make-movies-like-this-anymore" variety coming along
recently. The somewhat soggy U-571 reminds us that submarines have a
built-in dramatic energy, which filmmakers have recognized in films ranging from
Run Silent, Run Deep to The Hunt for Red October. But U-571
sinks beneath the weight of its lack of characterization and its reliance on an
old-fashioned jingoism that lets a handful of Americans whip up on a whole lot
of Nazis who seem strangely unable to respond.
That’s
a quibble. This is almost an edge-of-the seater, except everything is so clearly
stacked that we know that our boys will somehow get through. Well, they
certainly have plenty to get through—stuck in a German submarine, after their
own (American) sub is destroyed. But, these are American boys, after all. In
less time than it would take them to figure out how to change the tire on a
German car, they are putting the German submarine they’ve captured through its
paces, not too bad considering that the sub was disabled when they commandeered
it.
Hazards
and problems pile up so fast that we never have time to realize that we don’t
know enough about the characters to care whether they sink or swim. They don’t
have personalities, just attributes: one is half-German, one is small, one is
black, and one is old. And the plot doesn’t have development, just more leaks,
more torpedoes, more depth charges, more groans of the submarine under the
increasing pressure of the water.
Matthew
McConaughey’s emotionless posing serves the script well, because his character
is no character at all. Harvey Keitel, who could sustain a meatier role, is
reduced to a condiment in this submarine sandwich by the script, a rather salty
condiment, but his talent is sadly wasted. Maybe I can’t let go a dreadful
metaphor, but McConaughey is very white bread. Except for McConaughey, who has
never demonstrated any more acting ability than he does here, the cast members
give it their best, in an ensemble performance that holds up to the pressures of
the water and the script alike.
The
technology roars over any human shortcomings, and this movie is nothing if not
loud. Explosions, torpedoes, and depth charges keep things rolling along, while
we are treated to some fairly convincing images of the sub itself. This would be
a pretty suspenseful enterprise, except it is so predictable. The good
guys—and there is never any post-Vietnam doubt about who the good guys
are—will prevail, even if we, I mean, they, only have one torpedo left.
Eventually, the sub wasn’t the only source of groans, as I watched in
disbelief that the filmmakers don’t take our disbelief into consideration. In
fact, the submariners lose some of their claim to heroism because they don’t
have to face themselves (a ten-second pep talk sends a scared kid to a suicidal
sacrifice) or even fair odds in battle.
And,
oops, there’s another leak. This film has just about the leakiest plot of all
time. But, if you can keep your feet dry, it certainly has enough noble thoughts
to keep treading water for. Just don’t expect too much depth. For over 5550
pages of historical background, sink into "The U-boat War:
1939-1945"—
http://server1.uboat.net/index.html
Look
for another film about a U-boat, based on James Lee Burke’s Dixie City Jam
and starring Tommy Lee Jones—
http://webfic.com/jlb/tvfilm.htm
To
get the perspective of "The Flick Filosopher: Girl Movie Critic"
(whose gutsy comments make one wonder which is the gentler sex) on our
brave boys in this film, check out—
http://www.flickfilosopher.com/flickfilos/archive/002q/u571.html
Considering
how long I’ve raved and how far I’ve roved, I suppose I had better say, see
you later, Gladiator,
and we will, and I hope to see you, too. So, please, no matter where you rove or
how loudly you may rave, keep your browser set to return to the
coziest little site on the Internet.