Category Archives: 1999

The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999, Katt Shea)

My favorite moment in The Rage: Carrie 2–and favorite is a stretch–is when the camera pans over a hippy playing guitar as the soundtrack plays ska. There’s a disconnect between the audio and visual; it’s disruptive, the kind of subtle move utterly absent in director Shea’s terrible work.

Shea’s a female director so one might think she’d be better-suited for the film. Instead, she lingers on the rampant misogyny of the thirty-year olds playing high school boys, using it as humor. Of course, Shea also makes fat jokes… she’s uninterested in subtle black comedy. Though I did like the implication high school football coaches sexually abuse their players.

Lead Emily Bergl, while in her mid-twenties, doesn’t look too old for the part. Shem her acting’s bad. Jason London, as her love interest, looks like her guidance counselor. Still, he easily gives the best performance (well, until the finish).

When Shea’s being thoughtlessly exploitative, her direction’s better than when she’s going for sincere. As for the supernatural moments… Shea’s unbelievably maladroit.

The Rage‘s major failing is its pointlessness. Writer Rafael Moreu contrives connection to the first movie, but doesn’t come up with a story for his characters. Amy Irving, the only returning cast member from the original, is pitiably bad.

Lousy supporting turns from Zachery Ty Bryan, Dylan Bruno, Eddie Kaye Thomas and Mena Suvari.

The Rage is bad, boring and incompetent. Terrible music from Danny B. Harvey too.

However, Donald M. Morgan’s photography is excellent.

CREDITS

Directed by Katt Shea; screenplay by Rafael Moreu, based on characters created by Stephen King; director of photography, Donald M. Morgan; edited by Richard Nord; music by Danny B. Harvey; production designer, Peter Jamison; produced by Paul Monash; released by United Artists.

Starring Emily Bergl (Rachel Lang), Jason London (Jesse Ryan), Dylan Bruno (Mark Bing), J. Smith-Cameron (Barbara Lang), Amy Irving (Sue Snell), Zachery Ty Bryan (Eric Stark), Gordon Clapp (Eric’s Father), Rachel Blanchard (Monica Jones), Charlotte Ayanna (Tracy Campbell), Justin Urich (Brad Winters), Mena Suvari (Lisa Parker), Eli Craig (Chuck Potter), Clint Jordan (Sheriff Kelton), Steven Ford (Coach Walsh) and Eddie Kaye Thomas (Arnie).


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Sleepy Hollow (1999, Tim Burton)

For the majority of the running time, at least Sleepy Hollow isn’t boring. Burton gets in an event every ten minutes, which keeps it moving. It often gets really stupid and watching Johnny Depp’s histrionics get tiresome after the first five minutes, but at least it moves. Until the finale, which drags incredibly. Since the film is constructed as a mystery, once the villain’s identity is revealed, it becomes a lot less interesting. Burton could have done something better, but not much in Sleepy Hollow suggests he cares enough to bother.

Besides the supporting cast and the production design—and Emmanuel Lubezki’s photography, which is lovely—there’s nothing special about the film. For a lot of it, Depp is running around with costars Christina Ricci and Marc Pickering, looking like their babysitter. Ricci’s playing the love interest though, which would come off as odd if Depp was for one moment trying to create a believable character. Watching him primp around—his facial expressions could power a small town alone—is mind-numbing.

But the supporting cast features some excellent performances—Michael Gough, Ian McDiarmid and Richard Griffiths are all wonderful. Michael Gambon doesn’t do well though, neither does Jeffrey Jones. Miranda Richardson has some good moments and some awful ones.

The script’s stupid, but it’s unclear if any of the problems are Burton’s fault. His sensibilities—besides the production itself—are reined in. He even rips off a moment from Total Recall.

It’s a lame, worthless movie… but not intolerable.

CREDITS

Directed by Tim Burton; screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker, based on a screen story by Kevin Yagher and Walker and a story by Washington Irving; director of photography, Emmanuel Lubezki; edited by Chris Lebenzon and Joel Negron; music by Danny Elfman; production designer, Rick Heinrichs; produced by Scott Rudin and Adam Schroeder; released by Paramount Pictures.

Starring Johnny Depp (Ichabod Crane), Christina Ricci (Katrina Van Tassel), Miranda Richardson (Lady Van Tassel), Michael Gambon (Baltus Van Tassel), Casper Van Dien (Brom Van Brunt), Jeffrey Jones (Reverend Steenwyck), Richard Griffiths (Magistrate Philipse), Ian McDiarmid (Doctor Lancaster), Michael Gough (Notary Hardenbrook), Marc Pickering (Young Masbath), Lisa Marie (Lady Crane), Steven Waddington (Killian), Claire Skinner (Beth Killian), Christopher Lee (Burgomaster), Alun Armstrong (High Constable) and Christopher Walken (Hessian Horseman).


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Muppets from Space (1999, Tim Hill)

Muppets from Space is definitely missing some important elements (like subplots and a first act), but it usually doesn’t matter. Even though Hill is a poor director–the film doesn’t just lack personality, it looks like a TV show–the Muppet performers are incredibly strong and the script has a bunch of great lines.

The film focuses on Gonzo, which might be the major problem. The Muppets are a team and, while everyone else gets into the act (to some degree), it’s mostly Gonzo’s show. And there’s not enough for him to do. The script lacks narrative ambition–Gonzo gets kidnapped by the Men in Black and the Muppets free him. Then there are space Muppets.

A little bit more happens at the beginning, but that description pretty much covers it all. It’s as though the screenwriters know they can get away with certain things–like not giving the rest of the Muppets story arcs–and still be genially okay. They’re right… but geniality doesn’t make up for ambition.

For the Muppets, Pepe, Bobo and Miss Piggy are the standouts in this one. Most of the cameos are with Piggy–she has great scenes with Ray Liotta, Andie MacDowell and Josh Charles.

In the primary human role, Jeffrey Tambor is funny. David Arquette and Rob Schneider work well too, probably because they’re only slightly less manic than the Muppets.

The funk soundtrack is occasionally amusing but a little forced (original songs would’ve helped).

It’s perfectly fine… just feels like television.

CREDITS

Directed by Tim Hill; written by Jerry Juhl, Joey Mazzarino and Ken Kaufman; director of photography, Alan Caso; edited by Richard Pearson and Michael A. Stevenson; music by Jamshied Sharifi; production designer, Stephen Marsh; produced by Martin G. Baker and Brian Henson; released by Columbia Pictures.

Starring Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson, Kevin Clash, Bill Barretta, Kevin Clash and Frank Oz as the Muppets.

Starring Jeffrey Tambor (K. Edgar Singer), Andie MacDowell (Shelley Snipes), Pat Hingle (General Luft), David Arquette (Dr. Tucker), Rob Schneider (UFO Mania TV Producer), Josh Charles (Agent Baker), Hulk Hogan (Man in Black), Ray Liotta (Gate Guard), Kathy Griffin (Female Armed Guard) and F. Murray Abraham (Noah).


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Galaxy Quest (1999, Dean Parisot)

I can’t imagine not liking Galaxy Quest, but I suppose appreciating it does require on a certain level of previous knowledge. I can’t imagine how it plays to people who aren’t familiar with “Star Trek,” not to mention knowing William Shatner’s an egomaniac and “Trek” fans have big, weird conventions. Having some passing knowledge of cheesy late seventies science fiction shows wouldn’t hurt either (Sigourney Weaver’s character doesn’t have a “Star Trek” analog).

By creating the animosity between Tim Allen (as the Shatner analog) and the rest of the cast, the film sets up a really simple proposition—there’s no deep redemption here, he just has to stop being such a dip. And whisking them off to space to fight an intergalactic despot, it seems like a non-dip move.

Galaxy Quest is very assured. The details are important, not the characters. They’re funnier as caricatures and some deep human reality doesn’t have a place. By casting Allen opposite Weaver and Alan Rickman, the filmmakers create a wonderfully playful disconnect. It’s absurd and creates a great atmosphere.

All of the acting is excellent—Sam Rockwell and Tony Shalhoub are phenomenal. Both are perfectly casted for the roles—the writing is strongest at creating these funny people to watch. Only Daryl Mitchell “suffers,” but not really. He just doesn’t have enough to do.

Parisot does a good job. It’s all very professional, never letting himself get in the way of the actors.

The special effects are excellent.

It’s a great time.

CREDITS

Directed by Dean Parisot; screenplay by David Howard and Robert Gordon, based on a story by Howard; director of photography, Jerzy Zielinski; edited by Don Zimmerman; music by David Newman; production designer, Linda DeScenna; produced by Mark Johnson and Charles Newirth; released by DreamWorks Pictures.

Starring Tim Allen (Jason Nesmith), Sigourney Weaver (Gwen DeMarco), Alan Rickman (Alexander Dane), Tony Shalhoub (Fred Kwan), Sam Rockwell (Guy Fleegman), Daryl Mitchell (Tommy Webber), Enrico Colantoni (Mathesar), Robin Sachs (Sarris), Patrick Breen (Quellek), Missi Pyle (Laliari), Jed Rees (Teb) and Justin Long (Brandon).


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Galaxy Quest: 20th Anniversary The Journey Continues (1999, Chris Harty)

It’s hard to unravel the layers of this television special. It’s supposed to be a promotion for the Galaxy Quest movie—but from the reality there was a show. It’s not clear if the movie promoted is the actual movie (where the sci-fi TV actors actually go to space) or if it’s some other movie. If it’s the first, it’s another layer of spoof. Or it’s one less.

Most of the special has nothing to do with the movie, thankfully (because those sections get confusing), and concentrate on the fictional history of the television show. It’s basically like the first “Star Trek” series, only bad.

Most of the film’s principals show up, in character, to give interviews; those are the special’s strongpoints. Tim Allen is a natural acting like an ass, but Sigourney Weaver and Alan Rickman clowning? They’re amazing.

Unfortunately, Daryl Mitchell isn’t very good.

It’s real funny.

CREDITS

Produced and directed by Chris Harty; written by Andy Marx; edited by Richard Erbeznik; released by E!: Entertainment Television.

Starring Tim Allen (Jason Nesmith), Sigourney Weaver (Gwen DeMarco), Alan Rickman (Alexander Dane), Daryl Mitchell (Tommy Webber), Sam Rockwell (Guy Fleegman) and Stan Winston (Stan Winston).


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The World Is Not Enough (1999, Michael Apted)

Denise Richards is not convincing as a nuclear physicist. That statement made, Apted might get her best performance ever in this film. It’s still awful. Her lack of charisma is painful; one has to wonder how Brosnan and Apted were able to put up with it, given the rest of the film’s considerable accomplishments.

The World is Not Enough probably has ten great action sequences. Something about Apted’s direction lets him ground the general Bond absurdity and create these transfixing sequences. Not all of these scenes are important–there’s a couple for pure padding purposes–but Apted makes them work. Given he’s not known as an action director, it’s interesting to see his sensibilities translate so well to the genre.

Besides the direction, the film’s got a pretty solid script. It’s got some goofiness–it’s not particularly believable Judi Dench is a sentimental moron–but it’s fine. There’s some smiles, if not laughs, and it moves well.

And besides Richards, the supporting cast is excellent. Sophie Marceau gets the primary female role and does well with it. The other principle is Robert Carlyle, who gives one of his great, chameleon performances here. While it might have been simpler just to mimic his Trainspotting performance, he instead creates a nearly sympathetic, utterly evil villain. And Robbie Coltrane’s back. He’s hilarious.

The film survives Richards mostly thanks to Brosnan, who carries the weight of their scenes all himself. But he’s also just very assured here.

Still, I can’t help wondering who else auditioned for Richard’s role.

CREDITS

Directed by Michael Apted; screenplay by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Bruce Feirstein, based on a story by Purvis and Wade and characters created by Ian Fleming; director of photography, Adrian Biddle; edited by Jim Clark; music by David Arnold; production designer, Peter Lamont; produced by Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Starring Pierce Brosnan (James Bond), Sophie Marceau (Elektra King), Robert Carlyle (Renard), Denise Richards (Dr. Christmas Jones), Robbie Coltrane (Valentin Zukovsky), Desmond Llewelyn (Q), John Cleese (R), Maria Grazia Cucinotta (Cigar Girl), Samantha Bond (Miss Moneypenny), Michael Kitchen (Tanner), Colin Salmon (Robinson), Goldie (Bullion), Serena Scott Thomas (Dr. Molly Warmflash) and Judi Dench (M).


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Attack the Gas Station! (1999, Kim Sang-jin)

I’ve lost the desire to visit South Korea.

I’m not sure how to describe Attack the Gas Station! I suppose it’s a crime comedy, except the audience is supposed to laugh at the victims. The film lionizes its criminals–who spend the near two hour running time assaulting children, attempting the occasional rape and generally humiliating everyone they can.

But it’s okay, the filmmakers say, because the squares deserve it. The children–teenagers, I guess–all have part-time jobs, which makes them lame. The woman deserves to be raped because she’s a materialistic bitch. Everyone else is really lame too. But not our heroes. They’ve been mistreated–whether by loan sharks, teachers, coaches or parents–so it’s okay they’re criminals.

Oddly, they spend lots of time beating up other criminals–those are real “bad guys” though, who apparently don’t have social reasons for their disfunction.

Sitting and suffering through Attack the Gas Station, it occurred to me I’ve never seen a film more pro-violence. Any of those popular American films accused of glorifying crime and violence? They have nothing on this one.

Kim’s direction is, at times, sublime. When it goes over the top, it fails. But it’s very well-directed for about the first half. Really good performances from Lee Sung-jae and Park Yeong-gyu. The only bad performance is Kang Seong-jin.

It seems unaware of its general violent misanthropy and more specific misogyny, but I’m not sure if that ignorance is a good thing.

CREDITS

Directed by Kim Sang-jin; written by Park Jeong-woo; director of photography, Choi Jeong-won; edited by Ko Im-pyo; music by Son Mu-hyeon; produced by Lee Kwan Soo; released by Cinema Services.

Starring Lee Sung-jae (No Mark), Yu Oh-seong (Mu Dae-po), Kang Seong-jin (Ddan Dda-ra), Yu Ji-tae (Paint), Park Yeong-gyu (Gas station owner), Jeong Jun (Geon-Bbang), Lee Yu-won (Ggal-chi) and Lee Jeong-ho (Meek man).


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Payback (1999, Brian Helgeland), the director’s cut

I don’t know if I’d say I’ve been waiting ten years to see the director’s cut of Payback, but I guess I’ve been interested in it for ten years–it’s supposed to be the meaner version. Too bad Mel Gibson, even a good Mel Gibson, is Mel Gibson. Even when he’s being tough and mean, he’s got an element of cute. If you like Mel Gibson, you’ll probably like Payback.

It’s a tough guy movie set in a no name city, the film noir city of the 1950s, only Helgeland wastes a lot of time drawing attention to the city not having a name… (it’s Chicago). Helgeland’s direction is solid, but his establishing shots are really poorly framed, usually because he doesn’t know how to shoot the city. It looks like he doesn’t know how to do establishing shots, making it appear incompetent.

The most impressive thing about the film is acting. Helgeland’s rediscovery of Gregg Henry is something to be seen. Maria Bello’s good. Deborah Kara Unger is good. William Devane and James Coburn’s cameos are both great.

Unfortunately, the film gets to a point where there’s nowhere to go. The film’s philosophy just doesn’t work for making a successful picture. Played straight, it might have been better. Gibson’s character arc fails, as the character inexplicably develops emotional concern.

So, at that conclusion, when Helgeland’s run out of plot, he stops the movie. It’s a downhill slide from a rather strong opening. I suppose it’s a somewhat graceful decision.

CREDITS

Directed by Brian Helgeland; screenplay by Helgeland, based on a novel by Donald E. Westlake; director of photography, Ericson Core; edited by Kevin Stitt; music by Chris Boardman; production designer, Richard Hoover; produced by Bruce Davey; released by Paramount Pictures.

Starring Mel Gibson (Porter), Gregg Henry (Val), Maria Bello (Rosie), David Paymer (Stegman), Deborah Kara Unger (Lynn), William Devane (Carter), Bill Duke (Detective Hicks), James Coburn (Fairfax) and Lucy Liu (Pearl).


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Godzilla 2000 (1999, Okawara Takao)

The most surprising thing about Godzilla 2000 is learning the director had made other moves in the series before this one. The writers too. It’s a little surprising, since it’s so full of lame lifts from American blockbusters (including Independence Day, which seems a little strange, given Toho made Godzilla 2000 after the American bungling of the property), lamer lifts from the nineties Godzilla series (which was a lot classier, even the worst entries) and the cast is incredibly weak. Sano Shirô gives the only competent performance. The rest of the cast, which I’ll get to in a bit, is atrocious.

The film’s a reboot, maybe the first reboot of the modern era of reboots, with Godzilla just a fact of life in Japan, without any context. Like the Sony and Apple product placement (lots of iMac ads here), he’s part of the scenery.

Okawara’s direction is laughable. It seems like he’s trying to mix somewhat modern filmmaking techniques (i.e. bad CG) into the Godzilla mix and he keeps failing. There are all sorts of lame comic set pieces and the film feels really small, like there are only eight people in it.

Oh, the actors. Naomi Nishida, Suzuki Mayu and Murata Takehiro are all awful. Suzuki’s the worst, but Murata’s playing an ugly romantic lead, which is kind of funny. Abe Hiroshi badly essays the role of a bureaucrat obsessed with killing Godzilla.

And I’m forgetting Hattori Takayuki’s score (awful) and the Godzilla costume (awful).

It’s a terrible picture.

CREDITS

Directed by Okawara Takao; written by Kashiwabara Hiroshi and Mimura Wataru; director of photography, Kato Katsuhiro; edited by Okuhara Yoshiyuki; music by Hattori Takayuki; production designer, Shimizu Takeshi; released by Toho Company Ltd.

Starring Murata Takehiro (Prof. Shinoda Yuji), Abe Hiroshi (Katagiri Mitsuo), Nishida Naomi (Ichinose Yuki), Suzuki Mayu (Shinoda Io) and Sano Shirô (Prof. Miyasaka Shiro).


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Wing Commander (1999, Chris Roberts)

Watching Freddie Prinze Jr. court Saffron Burrows feels like some kind of archaic punishment. It’s the filmic equivalent of the rack.

Thankfully, not all of Wing Commander concentrates on the courtship, which might very well be the anti-Christ of screen romances–trying to decide if it’s Prinze or Burrows who gives a worse performance (Prinze through his abject incompetence in the acting profession and Burrows through her ludicrous posturing) can occupy a lot of the viewer’s time.

There isn’t really anything else to do during Wing Commander once Ginny Holder dies. She and Matthew Lillard are fantastic together and then she dies and then it gets worse. Sure, it’s always bad, but at least she and Lillard have this wonderful romance going; even with the film’s present action running something like sixteen hours, the two of them make it work.

Director Roberts created the source video game (I think) and directed the live action sequences for some of the video game sequels and that excellent experience shows. Though he does seem to understand how to construct a basic battle scene (the film owes a lot to World War II films, both submarine and air force ones), he can’t direct actors. With Lillard, it’s fine. With almost everyone else, it’s a disaster. Besides Lillard and Holder, the best performances are bit ones from Hugh Quarshie and Simon MacCorkindale. David Suchet looks embarrassed if not humiliated and Jürgen Prochnow has certainly seen better days.

It’s hard to believe it opened theatrically.

CREDITS

Directed by Chris Roberts; screenplay by Kevin Droney, based on his story and the video game created by Roberts; director of photography, Thierry Arbogast; edited by Peter Davies; music by Kevin Kiner and David Arnold; production designer, Peter Lamont; produced by Todd Moyer; released by 20th Century Fox.

Starring Freddie Prinze Jr. (1st Lt. Blair), Saffron Burrows (Lt. Cmdr. Devereaux), Matthew Lillard (Lt. Marshall), Tchéky Karyo (Taggart), David Suchet (Capt. Sansky), Jürgen Prochnow (Cmdr. Gerald), David Warner (Adm. Tolwyn), Ginny Holder (Lt. Forbes), Hugh Quarshie (Obutu) and Simon MacCorkindale as the flight boss.


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