Underworld literally takes place in an under-world of dingy subway tunnels, sewer systems and abandoned buildings hidden from the eyes of humans. In this secret world a centuries old war is being waged between vampires and lycans (werewolves). The leather clad Selene (Kate Beckinsale) is one of the elite “death dealers” whose specialty is tracking and killing werewolves. She is ***censored*** good at her job and even worries that she might be too good. After all, what is there to live for once she has destroyed all her hairy adversaries?

On a routine hunting mission, Selene inadvertently uncovers a lycan conspiracy to kidnap a human named Michael (Scott Speedman). In her efforts to unravel the mystery, she rescues Michael and the unlikely pair seem to fall for each other a little bit. This is where the much hyped Romeo and Juliet aspect of the movie comes into play. If the lovey-dovey stuff isn’t your style, don’t worry. The romance barely registers amidst all the vampire vs. werewolf violence.

Underworld is packed with wall-to-wall mayhem. All the shooting, jumping, kicking and morphing are almost enough to make you overlook the lackluster storyline. Character development is definitely sacrificed for an overly-complicated plot that involves the genesis of the Vampire - Lycan conflict and a conspiracy to unify the bloodline. It’s an interesting concept, but it sells the characters short. Selene and Michael are important characters in the mythology this movie is creating, but they are never fleshed out. And the fact that they are supposedly falling in love with each other seems highly implausible given all that is happening around them. There is a definite set-up for a sequel, but unfortunately we don’t know these characters well enough to care if they will be back for part 2.

In contrast to the lack of character development, the “world” of these characters is so fully developed, Underworld sometimes feels like a manual for a role-playing game. The vampires are a bunch of pasty faced wimps dressed in victorian clothes.  It’s like all the wimpy theater geeks from high school got superpowers and decided to sit around in a mansion having tea parties and drinking blood from wine glasses. The cool vampires are the “death dealers”, who dress in skin tight leather and feel rightly superior to the rest of vampire wimps. When the death dealers aren’t out killing lycans, they spend their time inventing weapons to kill lycans even more efficiently. To continue the high school analogy, the lycans are kind of like the guys who spent all their time in shop class huffing paint fumes and have since graduated to cooking crystal meth in their trailer homes. They are greasy, hairy and have bad manners. So it’s probably clear by now why vampires and lycans are natural enemies. I have to admit, I was rooting for the werewolves in this one. And after watching this movie, I hope all the people who came to the theater dressed in black funeral clothes feel downright embarrassed.

Director Len Wiseman does a great job of bringing this elaborate world to life. While a lot has been made of this movies similarities in styles to The Matrix movies, the comparison applies to a few surface elements only.  And to be fair, there were plenty of dark sci-fi movies with people wearing black leather long before The Matrix. The action sequences here are a lot more grounded in reality and when slow motion or visual trickery is used it’s actually impressive instead of tedious. The gothic sets are large and detailed and give the film a sense of a much larger scope. It’s almost unbelievable to think that this movie was made for only $20 million dollars.

The thing that sinks every werewolf movie I can think of is the werewolf effects. The movie can be going along just great, but when it comes time to deliver the goods, the werewolf just sucks. That’s NOT the case with Underworld. These werewolves are big, scary and very cool. The transformation sequences are the most effective I’ve seen. Ever. Sure, it’s being accomplished by the universally reviled CGI, but here it works. To increase the effectiveness of these creatures, Wiseman shrewdly keeps them hidden in shadows for most of the film. The effects throughout the entire film are first rate… with one exception. I am totally sick of the Cube-inspired gimmick where a character (or piece of a character) is sliced in half, but they don’t realize it until their pieces separate about 30 seconds later. This is a stupid trick that has been way over-done. It’s so goofy and out-of-place that it takes you out of the movie during the important climax.

All that being said, Underworld is a fun movie going experience. It fits nicely into the genre made popular by the Blade movies. While I don’t think it’s necessarily as good as the first Blade, it will definitely appeal to fans of that film. Aside from the black leather, I don’t think the Matrix comparisons are really all that fair. Underworld is a highly effective action movie with serious horror overtones. The script could stand improvement, but the sight of Kate Beckinsale dressed in black leather blasting the crap out of big werewolves will help you overlook any shortcomings.

---

Directed by: Len Wiseman
Starring: Kate Beckinsale, Scott Speedman
Screenwriters: Danny McBride, Kevin Grevioux
Distributor: Screen Gems (Sony)

I am going to come right out and say it: Once Upon a Time in Mexico is the coolest film ever made. Much like Eastwood’s Man with No Name or McQueen’s Bullitt, Robert Rodriguez has created the ultimate cool action anti-hero in El Mariachi. Third in the El Mariachi / Desperado trilogy, Rodriguez ups the ante in this all-star, explosive chapter, creating a huge, sprawling neo-western epic on par with, if not exceeding, the best of Leone (as a matter of fact, this film owes more than a tip of it’s hat to The Good, The Bad and the Ugly).

Antonio Banderas returns as El Mariachi, the haunted ex-guitarrista with a case full of guns and ***censored***-load of bad-***censored*** moves. Taking up where Desperado left off, we find El back on the killing trail after Gen. Marquez kills his wife (once again reprised by the transcendent Salma Hayek) and child. He is hired by three-armed, double-dealing, one-line spouting CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp being brilliant, once again) to assassinate Marquez, who’s planning to assassinate el Presidente who wants to oust a creepy-***censored*** cartel leader played by the creepy-***censored*** Willem Dafoe. And much like the aforementioned The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, each character is never playing straight with another character and you never quite know which character is going to turn on the other.

And between it all is cool dialogue, deftly staged stunts and a wholly engaging plot. But the key element that makes Mexico so enthralling is the expert casting. Banderas speaks in actions-it seems like every move he makes is cool. Johnny Depp is the comedic heart of the film, tossing off the best lines, until his 180-El Topo homage at the film’s climax. Salma once again ignites the screen just by being herself, and Willem Dafoe and Mickey Rourke are their usual, believably slimy selves. But the stand-out performance has to be from Ruben Blades as the FBI agent looking for revenge. His subtle sadness and quiet demeanor is a welcome contrast to all the manic gunplay surrounding him. Just look at the scene where he’s about to take down Rourke at the taco stand. (As a matter if fact, Blades’ character reminds me a lot of Robert Forster’s Max Cherry from Jackie Brown).

Maybe it’s because of all these interweaving storylines that critics’ main complaint of Mexico has been its “complexity.” They say they get lost in the characters. They say there’s too many plot holes. What plot holes? What complexity? How do you not follow this film? And even if the plot were ***censored*** (which I assure you, it’s not), just kick back and dig the pure eye-candies that burst out of this bloody piñata. The visuals, always a Rodriguez strongpoint, are in full form here. From El Mariachi’s silhouette in the sun to the sweeping image of Sands’ last stand; it’s as if every shot is meant to be the coolest shot ever, a goal to which it remarkably and consistently surpasses. And on top of that-the action. One Hong Kong level stunt-piece after another. From kneecaps blown off to bullets in the head, the violence is stylized as ***censored***, proving that the Spy Kids franchise hasn’t mellowed Rodriguez out yet.

But perhaps, on a social level, I feel so enamored with the El Mariachi films (and perhaps Rodriguez in general) in the fact that it is so Latino-centric. Much like his Spy Kids films, 95% of the characters are Hispanic, both heroes and villains, all creating a new mythology and genre that had been previously unattainable and unavailable. No one plays the maid here-and if they did, she’d brandish a sawed-off and maybe some throwing knives.

Overall, Once Upon a Time in Mexico may not go down as the best film of the year, but it will definitely be the coolest, for now and years to come.

---

Louis Fowler is a frequent contributor to Cinema Eye and Hitch Magazine. He is also the publisher of Damaged Magazine, a new issue of which is coming soon. 

Besides Alien, has Ridley Scott ever truly made a good movie? Blade Runner is overrated, Gladiator is laughable and Legend, well the less said about that the better. Did I hear someone say GI Jane, 1492 and Hannibal? Oh, well those suck too. And Top Gun, you say? That was his brother Tony, and well, he sucks too.

So basically what I’m trying to say is that Ridley Scott is extremely ***censored*** overrated. Which brings me to his latest exercise in silliness, Matchstick Men, a movie so lame Shriners should be giving it money.

Nicolas Cage is an obsessive compulsive (the overacting kind Hollywood loves) con-artist (the nice kind Hollywood loves) who teams up with his annoying daughter (the ever-so-shrill Alison Lohman) to grift old people and the greasy Bruce McGill. I hated this movie the first time I saw it when it was called Paper Moon, but then Scott adds the cloying Sam Rockwell to the mix and it all goes to Hell.

The movie is at it’s best when examining the dynamics of the con game between father and daughter, but those scenes are few and far between, all leading up to the most ludicrously stupid ending ever. Even though I hated the movie, I was still pissed-off by the ending. It felt like something written by someone in a sixth grade creative writing class. I’m surprised it didn’t have an “it was all a dream… or was it!?!” type ending. Did it remind anyone else of Freddy Got Fingered? Oh, I’m the only one?

My main complaint is with Lohman. She first screeched her way into hearts in the abysmal White Oleander and now writhes and jumps around, acting like an annoying 8-year-old, but the sad fact is she’s an annoying 24-year-old playing an annoying 14-year- old. But more than anything else, it was her little-girl frame (completely sexualized in the epilogue) and no chest that made this have a disturbing Lolita spin that made for an even more unsatisfying film.

If these Matchstick Men were strike anywhere, I’d aim for the face and neck, and then set all the negatives on fire. Don’t waste your time.

---

Louis Fowler is a frequent contributor to Cinema Eye and Hitch Magazine. He is also the publisher of Damaged Magazine, a new issue of which is coming soon.

American Splendor is a lot like its subject, VA file clerk turned comic-book writer Harvey Pekar: funny, craggly and sometimes miserable.

The film is an adaptation of Pekar’s based-on-his-so-called-life comics, but it also intersperses interviews with the real Pekar, archive footage of him on Late Night with David Letterman and animated sequences. Somehow, these jarringly different methods of telling a story do. They all work together to shape a true tale about an eternally unhappy man, even when success (or at least a semblance of it) shows up at his door.

Character actors Paul Giamatti—a player in everything from Private Parts to Planet of the Apes—has the best role of his career as Pekar, a down-on-his-luck schmo who’s been through two divorces when he gets the bright idea to turn his everyday doldrums into comics. Carrying the title of American Splendor, they’re strictly an underground sensation, but eventually garner him mainstream recognition with a series of memorable Letterman appearances. More importantly, however, they bring him to Wife No. 3, Joyce Brabner, played by Hope Davis. They get married immediately after meeting, despite having awkward chemistry and generally not getting along very well. But somehow, they manage to be the constant in one another’s life, even through a cancer scare, which they documented in a graphic novel.

One problem with the film is that in sticking so closely to the Pekars’ lives, there’s no real climax. Given that Harvey narrates his own film, we know ***censored*** well he’ll survive the cancer. But the epilogue showing the real Harvey at his retirement party surrounded by family and co-workers, is bittersweet. As much as he’s unable to like himself, there are plenty of others who like Harvey.

Giamatti does an excellent job as Pekar, inhabiting his every tic, from perpetual frown to scowling brush-off. While every bit as accomplished an actor, Davis was more of a distraction, having to act under an obvious (and hideous) black wig. And as good as they are, the cast member who most resembles his real-life counterpart is Judah Friedlander, delivering a dead-on impersonation of Pekar’s ulti-nerd coworker Toby Radloff.

Overall, I liked American Splendor a lot. If it weren’t so relentlessly downbeat, I might have loved it. But then again, without the depression, it wouldn’t be true to its subject.

I can guarantee you this… the more you know about Matchstick Men the less satisfying your moviegoing experience will be. With that in mind, I will do my best to leave out any plot details that aren’t obvious from a casual viewing of the trailer.

The setup is simple. Nicolas Cage is Roy, a con man who suffers from a myriad of quirky psychological problems and phobias. He’s got his life pretty much in order, when he’s taking his medication. He runs low-level cons on unsuspecting people and makes a good living. However, just as he is on the verge of pulling off one last big swindle, his carefully ordered life becomes disrupted by the arrival of his 14-year old daughter Angela.

That’s all I’m going to tell you about the details of the plots. You will see the twists and turns coming from a mile away but I want to leave you a little suspense.

Like most of director Ridley Scott’s body of work, Matchstick Men looks great but is ultimately pretty mediocre. It is, however, highlighted by a couple of great performances and a very engaging visual style. 

The real highlight of the film is Nicolas Cage’s twitchy and agitated performance as the phobia addled con-man. It’s great to see Cage ditching the action-hero schtick and reverting back the full-on freak mode that made his earlier work so interesting.

Also of note is Allison Lohman’s dead on portrayal of Roy’s 14-year old daughter. Lohman is actually 24 years old but she is absolutely believable in this role, capturing both the look and mannerisms of a teenager. Lohman is so cute I found myself strangely attracted to her and therefore in somewhat of a moral quandary. Is it “okay” to be attracted to her, knowing she is actually 24 in real life. Or am I becoming even more of a creepy perv? (Please discuss in the forums)

Scott brings an impressive visual style and rhythm to the film. His use of jump cuts, extreme close-ups and color shifts allow us to experience Roy’s phobias first hand. And its is when the film focuses on Roy that it is most interesting. The combination of Cage’s powerful performance and Scott’s expressionistic direction bring the character vividly to life. We can feel for this character and empathise with his desire to be a father to his daughter and lead a better, more honest life. The relationship between Roy and Angela is also very engaging and believable.

However, it’s the plot that ultimately fails this film. After investing almost two hours becoming emotionally involved with these characters, we are subjected to an ending that feels like a cop-out. Sure you can see it coming, but it’s so obvious that you kind of hope the filmmakers have something better in store.

In the end, it’s the audience that has been emotionally conned by these Matchstick Men.

---

Directed by: Ridley Scott
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Alison Lohman, Sam Rockwell
Screenwriters: Ted Griffin, Nick Griffin, Eric Garcia, Nicholas Griffin
Distributor: Warner Brothers