After half a dozen movies together, it’s official: Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson are the new Abbott & Costello. And, like those guys and other screen comedy teams, not everything they do is fall-down funny. Like, say, Starsky & Hutch.

Ostensibly a parody of the ‘70s cop TV series starring Paul Michael Glaser and David Soul, S&H serves as a prequel, showing how the uptight, by-the-book permed detective Starsky (Stiller) became partners with the laid-back, loosey-goosey chick magnet Hutch (Wilson). Their first assignment is finding out who killed a floater in the Bay City river, and their questionable investigative skills soon lead them on the trail to smarmy drug dealer Vince Vaughn, who is set to market a new type of cocaine undetectable by drug-sniffing dogs.

Assisting them are police chief Fred Williamson and pimped-out club owner Huggy Bear (Snoop Dogg) and, in other matters entirely, cheerleaders Carmen Electra and Amy Smart. Cameos abound by Chris Penn, Molly Sims, Playboy Playmate Brande Roderick and, in easily the film’s best scene, Will Ferrell, as a dragon-obsessed convict.

The plot is really secondary, minimal enough to get the characters from one comic situation to the next. There are some great bits – including the aforementioned Ferrell appearance and the boys’ encounter with a knife-throwing Asian boy – but most of the humor is merely okay. The disco dance-off isn’t too far removed from a similar bit in Zoolander, and Starsky’s Finkel disguise is a
character Stiller used to do on the late, great Ben Stiller Show; they’re not as amusing the second time around. Since I’ve only seen one episode of the original show in my lifetime, perhaps there are great gags that escaped me, but somehow I doubt it.

It’s just not as fresh as Stiller and Wilson can be when they’re just ad-libbing, nor as alive as Todd Phillips’ previous film, the just-gets-better-with-age OLD SCHOOL. Part of the problem is that in going for a ‘70s look, it’s too authentic, lending the film a flat, ugly cheapness that mitigates its
spirit.

All in all, it’s not a bad movie – just merely a good one when the principals involved would have you think it’d be great.

Review by Rod Lott.

Denmark/UK 2003
Director: Lars Von Trier
Score: ***** (Year’s 10 Best)

Bad Dane Lars Von Trier’s latest is the first of a trilogy on the subject of the land of opportunity.  Ironically, he sets his first and really bleak parable during the depression era with a sad tale of the township of Dogville.  Von Trier has dismissed the Dogma 95 treatment as is apparent from the over-use of voice-over (narrated by John Hurt), artificial lighting and titles throughout the film – though the hand held camera technique is predominantly employed.

DOGVILLE is sparse looking - filmed in one sound stage with the characters moving in and out imaginary houses and walking down imaginary streets.  Because there are no walls, all the actors had to be present throughout the entire 6 weeks of the film shoot.  It is as if Von Trier is taking revenge on the critics for condemning him for making DANCER IN THE DARK about the USA without (him) having set foot in America.  But it is a neat, though hardly novel idea that works well as Von Trier clearly controls his material with expertise.  The rape scene is particularly effective as the township can be observed in full view while the deed is being done, as if everyone is fully aware.  Von Trier claims to have got his inspiration from the RSC’s (London’s Royal Shakespearen Company) production of NICHOLAS NICKELBY.  The story, told with a prologue and nine chapters concerns the mysterious arrival of a fugitive, Grace (Nicole Kidman).  With encouragement from influential resident Tom Edison (Paul Bettany of GANGSTER NO.1 and “A BEAUTIFUL MIND) who eventually falls in love with her, she agrees to work for the town in return for shelter.  But matters escalate out of control till the truth rears its ugly head.

The cast selection is exceptional.  Veterans Ben Gazarra and Lauren Bacall add an ominous presence to the roles as the blind Jack McKay and Ma Ginger as does James Caan in his ‘Godly’ task.  Kidman, always good, balances vulnerability with a strength that keeps her survival.  The other international cast of Udo Kier, Patricia Clarkson, Philip Baker Hall and Stellan Skarsgard perform just as well with all their nasty relish. 

The film’s minor flaws lie in the narrative.  The motive of Grace not revealing the real reason for her demise is unconvincing.  While the unexplained poster of Grace being ‘wanted’ is also left hanging, the ploy is necessary for the latter events to unfold.

The pleasures, however are plentiful from the sarcastic and humorously dry voiceover, ensemble acting to the dimly lit sets and deliberately clichéd depiction of small town America complete with old Ford trucks and barking dog.  Von Trier also teases the viewer to figure the deeper meaning of the seven figurines and the final appearance of the barking dog.  His filming of DOGVILLE in sequence shows as the acting, plotting and drama intensifies as the chapters progress towards their conclusion.

The last chapter (the debate on arrogance) is particularly disturbing though it provides the necessary satisfying ending where all is revealed.  As such, on the matter of arrogance (or pride) and forgiveness, DOGVILLE stands as an unlikely companion piece to THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST.

Review by Gilbert Seah.

USA 2004
Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Cast: Ron Perlman, Selma Blair
Score: ***

The scene where FBI agent Jeffrey Tambor lights Hellboy’s (Ron Perlman) cigar with both thanking each other after being at logger heads throughout the first half of the movie sums up in one word what HELLBOY is all about.  Compromise!

Guillermo Del Toro made his best films in Mexico and rose to fame with small budget but creative horror pieces like CRONOS and THE DEVIL’S BACKBONE.  His has compromised his artistic roots by moving to Hollywood and directing less satisfying Hollywood flicks like BLADE II and MIMIC.  HELLBOY, based on Mike Mignola’s popular Dark Horse Comics series of the same name, is a tame action adventure more fantasy than hellish, geared more towards the Disney style of film, probably to appeal to a larger family audience.  The curse words “Aw, Crap!” uttered countless times by Hellboy say it all.

HELLBOY, however, is still interesting enough, while playing it safe, comic book wise.  It begins with the origins of the superhero, doomed to be hidden from the society he is sought to protect.  Brought out of the dark recesses of hell by the Nazis in 1944 Scotland (here, the ‘middle-ground’ English spoken is still strongly American so that all audiences can understand) but rescued by Allied Troops, Hellboy is reared by Dr. Broom (unrecognizable John Hurt) as a family at the Bureau of Paranormal Research together with other freaks such as Abe Sapien (Doug Jones) and Liz Sherman or Firestarter (Selma Blair).  Like the other superhero SPIDERMAN, also brought to the screen by Columbia Pictures, the plot follows Hellboy through his love for Liz and his loss of both his foster parent, Dr. Broom and his good friend FBI agent Clay. The dialogue is corny at times but occasionally rises above expectations. “I’ll never give you up – ever!” These are simple effective words spoken of love by Hellboy. The action scenes are exciting enough, particularly the initial sequence involving a fight beneath the New York subway amidst speeding trains. The special effects and make-up by Oscar winner Rick Baker (MEN IN BLACK and AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON) are amazing enough. It is a pity the script (written by Del Toro) neglects Abe Sabien, the more interesting character, and fails to examine the darker aspects of the father/son relationship of Dr. Bloom and Hellboy.

With so many comic book films out including the new SPIDERMAN 2 by the end of June, it is tough competition for Hollywood comic book films.  HELLBOY is convincing entertainment despite a lackluster climax emphasizing the point that audiences have already seen it all in one action flick or another.

Review by Gilbert Seah.

All of a sudden, everything old is new again. And while this is usually nothing surprising, in the past month, it has been more evident than ever. In the last few weeks, we’ve seen the remake-releases of ‘70’s stalwarts Starsky and Hutch and Dawn of the Dead. Scooby-Doo 2 is hitting theaters as you read this. Let’s go ahead and add Walking Tall to this ever-growing list.

Loosely based on the 1973 non-Mitchell Joe Don Baker hicks-ploitation classic, which itself was loosely based on the life of real-life one-man wrecking crew Sheriff Buford Pusser, the 2004 version, while changing just about everything from the original, is a fun, kick-***censored*** redneck-beating good time. It’s just hard to not like this movie.

For those who don’t know, Buford Pusser was a Tennessee sheriff, who, after seeing all the good ‘ol boy corruption that was destroying the small town he lived in, famously took a two-by-four and cleaned house, wiping out the local casinos and brothels with more than a few swats from his boom-stick. In addition to being stabbed and shot over 20 times, his wife was murdered in an ambush and in ’74; Pusser met his own demise when his brakes went out and the car mysteriously crashed.

In the era of Billy Jack, where a grass-roots, independent film could actually be put in theaters and make loads of cash, the movie of Pusser’s life, Walking Tall, was released and became a huge hit. While it was a tad fictionalized (and at times, admittedly, pretty cheesy (especially the end when Pusser, in a half body-cast, avenges his wife’s murder)), it was still one of the best action films to come out of the ‘70’s and holds up remarkably well today. Whereas Billy Jack had to be pushed into violence, Baker’s Pusser was more than ready, armed with his larger than life stick of cedar and a penchant for slamming it into the skulls of white trash criminals. Two lesser sequels (with the decidedly un-Baker Bo Svenson) soon followed.

Now that the history lesson’s over, that brings us to the 2004 remake (or, as Hollywood’s fond of saying these days, reimagining).

Charismatic WWE-superstar (is he even a wrestler anymore?) The Rock is Chris Vaughn, returning to his small Washington state logging town after a 10-year stint in the military. What was once an idyllic, Norman Rockwell community has become a mini-early ‘80’s Times Square: the sawmill has closed down and the drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes, sex shops and gambling joints have moved in. Upon arrival, he quickly learns that the town is owned by his high-school rival, Jay Hamilton, Jr., a near-albino rich ***censored*** who’s bleeding the town dry from his casino slash whorehouse. Behind Hamilton is his team of redneck “employees” who, after Vaughn catches them playing a rigged game of blackjack at the casino, slash his chest and face up with a box-cutter, leaving him for dead on the side of the road.

The law won’t do anything because, like I said, Hamilton owns the town. Vaughn decides to take the law into his own hands by becoming sheriff (the easiest way to take the law into your own hands, when you think about it) and, along with buddy Ray (a brilliantly cast Johnny Knoxville) beat the criminal element to a pulp using the famous two-by-four, a few chainsaws and fists galore.

I really loved this movie. It’s probably the first truly great theatrically-released action movie I’ve seen so far this year. It’s extremely fast-paced, never boring, surprisingly funny and plus, c’mon: everyone loves to see a blond haired, blue-eyed upper-class Nazi poster boy and his yokel goons get their asses handed to them by getting smacked with a block of wood upside their head. I know I do.

The Rock, regardless of whether you like wrestling or not (and I happen to really not), is a great cinematic action hero. He’s got the stature, the charm and the believability. Plus he’s just fun to watch on-screen. As his pal Ray, Johnny Knoxville is perfect, mixing his Southern wise-***censored*** humor well with the Rock’s straight-man role. But perhaps the most perfect casting of the movie has to be Neal McDonough as the previously mentioned Nazi / town dictator. Not since that British guy in The Patriot have a truly hated another human being more on screen. If I see him walking down the street, I may take a stick to his head myself—he’s that good.

Walking Tall is a highly-entertaining throwback to old-school, man’s man action flicks that succeeds on all levels. From the first frame to the last credit, I guarantee you haven’t seen a better action movie since last year’s Once Upon a Time in Mexico—and that’s saying something.

Review by Louis Fowler.

USA 2004
Director: Joel and Ethan Coen
Cast: Tom Hanks, Marlon Wayans
Score: ***

The Coen Brothers’ latest offering is an adaptation (not a remake) of one of the best of the British Ealing comedies THE LADYKILLERS directed by Alexander Mackendrick starring Alec Guinness with a host of comedic geniuses that included Peter Sellers and Frankie Howerd in bit parts.  I was fortunate to have recently viewed it again last Christmas in London when it was aired on television.  Still fresh, funny and innovative for its time, THE LADYKILLERS will always remain as one of Britain’s best!

So, it remains a daunted task for the well-known Coen Brothers (INTOLERABLE CRUELTY, O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU? and FARGO) to fiddle with a much loved classic.  But the story, now set in the U.S. is basically unchanged.  A shifty professor of sorts, G.H. Dorr (Tom Hanks) appearing out of nowhere, rents a room from a church-going harmless, but loud, old lady Marva Munson (the late Irma P. Hall) to obtain access to the basement so as to tunnel towards $1.6 million in cash.  His cohorts forming the ladykillers, disguising themselves as a Renaissance orchestra, are a symphony of excesses; a venomous chain smoking Indo-Chine (Tzi Ma), a dim-witted footballer (Ryan Hurst), a military veteran (J.K. Simmons) with IBS and a foul-mouthed Gawain (Marlon Wayans).  When Marva eventually discovers the truth, the gang is unable to dispatch her off.  It is a grand old ageless yarn that can hardly go wrong in its re-telling.

The Coen Brothers play it safe in the beginning.  The opening of the original showed Guinness walking across a London street, the mood and atmosphere of the people and times clearly established just as this film takes its time to do the same in the Bible belt of the brothers’ middle America.  Some scenes like the one with the rendering of the Gospel tune “Let the Light from the Lighthouse Shine on me” are long and overdone, though spirited and entertaining.  The images are filled with color (the original was black and white) and the cinematography by Roger Deakins - particularly in the early sequences – breathtaking.  Unmistakable too, are the Brothers’ brand of humour (the broad ***censored*** jokes like the major suffering from irritable bowel syndrome; the dismembered finger etc.) and distractions (the multiple explosions) to the plot.

Inevitable comparison between the two films renders quite the differences.  For example, when the old lady bursts unannounced into the cellar with cookies and tea, the original had the members scrambling around to find their instruments to fake their playing.  In this version, the immediately following scene has all the members already seated with their instruments in hand.  Minor variations include the way the corpses are dispatched (to a moving train in the original and here to a barge carrying trash). But the Coen Brothers know their comedy is broader and quirkier and the laughs are consistent throughout their film.

For all that its worth, THE LADYKILLERS is amusing enough, but it still lies in the shadow of the British original.

Review by Gilbert Seah.