I turned away from the screen more than watched it when I went to see Saw III today. Here's the man chained to the walls of a small room with hooks piercing his arms, legs, ankles, sides and chin. A bomb will blow in a minute and some change and he must rip those hooks off to get out in time.
A woman trapped in a contraption hooked into her ribcage must dip her hand into acid to retrieve a rapidly dissolving key at the bottom.
And a naked woman is chained in an ice room as freezing water is sprayed on her. And all of this is the work of our villain played ably by Tobin Bell.
The first movie had one hell of a devilish twist, and Saw II boasted a nice performance by Danny Walhberg, but the third, while at times clever, shows that this series may have run its course.
After all, you know what you're going to get: a series of nasty little tests that end with somebody's head crushed or arm twisted almost clear off. And though it might be fun to think what you might do in any of those crappy situations where you have to decide between screaming your head off or smashing your foot in to get out of an ankle chain, you don't want to keep seeing the same thing over and over again.
Bottom line: for all of its twists and turns, Saw III is horrifying only in its predictability. The graphic violence is not meant to scare but to shock.
Nowhere is there any sense of tension. Nowhere is there any investment in character. Nowhere is there much good acting, unless you count Tobin Bell's skin-crawlingly creepy performance.
A co-worker couldn't believe I liked Hostel. She thought it was close to pornography with all the gratuitous nudity. And yes, there is gratuitous nudity.
But I will argue that the movie's second half is thick with suspense, and the first time I saw it, I didn't know what was going to happen. I squirmed, I jumped and I was completely undone by the movie's final beyond-intense 15 minutes.
From Saw III, all I got was a tease for another sequel. I think it's time to put an end to this franchise. Please. This can't go on like Friday the 13th.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Saturday, October 07, 2006
The Departed
Martin Scorsese doesn't make movies easy to watch. You squirm in your seat, but just like a car wreck on the road, you can't turn your eyes away. In fact, you slow your car just to get a better look.
And Scorsese's new movie, The Departed, is that way. In many ways, this is vintage Scorsese, a movie that delves into the grittiness of life and finds poetry.
The Departed is actually a remake, or better yet a reimagining, of a Hong Kong movie called Infernal Affairs.
Leonardo DiCaprio, who has appeared in Scorsese's past two movies, is Billy Costigan, a kid from South Boston whose family upbringing wasn't the best. Nevertheless, he wants to become a cop and ends up going undercover to infiltrate mob boss's Frank Costello's inner circle.
Matt Damon is Colin Sullivan, another ambitious cop who is also a rat for Costello, played with eye-brow raising bluster by Jack Nicholson.
Costigan and Sullivan have never met but their lives are destined to collide, as Costigan borrows deeper into the Costello and Sullivan is entrusted to find the undercover cop Costello suspects is working against him.
This is a movie about corruption that runs deep and wide and rips apart everyone in its path, even those who try to do the right thing.
The performances are raw and the language vibrant, tought talk masking vulnerability.
And Jack Nicholson, as he always does, is hilarious and sinister all in the same time, snarling out his lines with gusto.
No, there is no happy ending in this movie, but with most Scorsese movies, there rarely is.
But the journey is one well worth taking because with Scorsese, the beauty lurks in the ugly.
And Scorsese's new movie, The Departed, is that way. In many ways, this is vintage Scorsese, a movie that delves into the grittiness of life and finds poetry.
The Departed is actually a remake, or better yet a reimagining, of a Hong Kong movie called Infernal Affairs.
Leonardo DiCaprio, who has appeared in Scorsese's past two movies, is Billy Costigan, a kid from South Boston whose family upbringing wasn't the best. Nevertheless, he wants to become a cop and ends up going undercover to infiltrate mob boss's Frank Costello's inner circle.
Matt Damon is Colin Sullivan, another ambitious cop who is also a rat for Costello, played with eye-brow raising bluster by Jack Nicholson.
Costigan and Sullivan have never met but their lives are destined to collide, as Costigan borrows deeper into the Costello and Sullivan is entrusted to find the undercover cop Costello suspects is working against him.
This is a movie about corruption that runs deep and wide and rips apart everyone in its path, even those who try to do the right thing.
The performances are raw and the language vibrant, tought talk masking vulnerability.
And Jack Nicholson, as he always does, is hilarious and sinister all in the same time, snarling out his lines with gusto.
No, there is no happy ending in this movie, but with most Scorsese movies, there rarely is.
But the journey is one well worth taking because with Scorsese, the beauty lurks in the ugly.
Monday, October 02, 2006
No Flavor in Love
I try not to watch Flavor of Love. But I can't help it. Same thing with The Bachelor. Both shows have pretend-to-be ladies nearly falling out of their dresses (okay, on Flavor of Love, the women most times have barely anything on in the first place) for some guy.
Now on The Bachelor, the guy is reasonably good looking.
On Flavor of Love, the guy is Flavor Flav, once the best hype man any politically conscious rap group like Public Enemy can have. Now, the 47-year-old recovering drug addict is an enemy to himself, a has-been who has morphed into a caricature.
But who cares what the guy looks like. This is reality television and viewers are lulled into believing romance is women acting like fools for some guy they just met, that soulmates will be found when relationships from these reality television shows wither the moment the cameras vanish.
Of course, this is a guy's fantasy, to have dozens of women clamoring for the chance to be his bride forever, or at least for the moment. And we in our living rooms have great fun laughing at the women snipe and bitch and claw at each other like dogs fighting over the last chicken bone.
And I wonder as I look at all of this what these shows say about women. Of course, some will argue that these women choose to go on this show, for whatever reason. It could be that they really dig the guy (hard to believe, I'm sorry to say, about Flavor Flav). Some hope this will be their big break. Or they think this will be something to tell the grandkids when they're older.
Regardless, the fact is that these women are in a sense degrading themselves. Yes, that's a strong statement but what else can you call it.
What woman, in her right mind, would voluntarily give away all the power in the dating situation that she has in real life?
See, in real life, the guy is supposed to ask the girl. He's supposed to brush off that nagging fear of rejection and talk to that girl in the bar, the bookstore, wherever, talk to her and get her number and call her later and ask her out and try to kiss her, knowing all the while that the woman has the right and the power to say no. And the guy has to pick his ego off the floor when "no" in whatever polite way the woman says it comes from her lips and he has to move on to the next woman and the next woman until he gets that "yes."
I mean, that's what real life is. Real life isn't a man having a pick of 25 women and he gets to eliminate half the first night and the remaining 11 have to smile, bat their eyes, shake their behind, and laugh at bland jokes until they get their man. What crap.
A female friend of mine nagged a boyfriend by being a real bitch. She ignored him ruthlessly for weeks and when she finally did give the guy a chance, she wouldn't let him kiss her for a long time.
Okay, maybe that's a bit too far but you get the idea.
I want a woman who I feel comfortable approaching but I also want a woman who leaves me wanting more. So sorry, the girl who has her breasts falling out so much you can see nipple or who has the tip of her thong hanging out of her too-tight pants ain't going to get any play. Smells desperate.
Now on The Bachelor, the guy is reasonably good looking.
On Flavor of Love, the guy is Flavor Flav, once the best hype man any politically conscious rap group like Public Enemy can have. Now, the 47-year-old recovering drug addict is an enemy to himself, a has-been who has morphed into a caricature.
But who cares what the guy looks like. This is reality television and viewers are lulled into believing romance is women acting like fools for some guy they just met, that soulmates will be found when relationships from these reality television shows wither the moment the cameras vanish.
Of course, this is a guy's fantasy, to have dozens of women clamoring for the chance to be his bride forever, or at least for the moment. And we in our living rooms have great fun laughing at the women snipe and bitch and claw at each other like dogs fighting over the last chicken bone.
And I wonder as I look at all of this what these shows say about women. Of course, some will argue that these women choose to go on this show, for whatever reason. It could be that they really dig the guy (hard to believe, I'm sorry to say, about Flavor Flav). Some hope this will be their big break. Or they think this will be something to tell the grandkids when they're older.
Regardless, the fact is that these women are in a sense degrading themselves. Yes, that's a strong statement but what else can you call it.
What woman, in her right mind, would voluntarily give away all the power in the dating situation that she has in real life?
See, in real life, the guy is supposed to ask the girl. He's supposed to brush off that nagging fear of rejection and talk to that girl in the bar, the bookstore, wherever, talk to her and get her number and call her later and ask her out and try to kiss her, knowing all the while that the woman has the right and the power to say no. And the guy has to pick his ego off the floor when "no" in whatever polite way the woman says it comes from her lips and he has to move on to the next woman and the next woman until he gets that "yes."
I mean, that's what real life is. Real life isn't a man having a pick of 25 women and he gets to eliminate half the first night and the remaining 11 have to smile, bat their eyes, shake their behind, and laugh at bland jokes until they get their man. What crap.
A female friend of mine nagged a boyfriend by being a real bitch. She ignored him ruthlessly for weeks and when she finally did give the guy a chance, she wouldn't let him kiss her for a long time.
Okay, maybe that's a bit too far but you get the idea.
I want a woman who I feel comfortable approaching but I also want a woman who leaves me wanting more. So sorry, the girl who has her breasts falling out so much you can see nipple or who has the tip of her thong hanging out of her too-tight pants ain't going to get any play. Smells desperate.
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