ulmerspirit Reviews

Intersection (1994)

patience and reward

[16 December 2002]

This unpopular film showcases wonderfully nuanced performances that flesh out a simple story with an interesting twist. Multiple flashbacks (or shifting timescape) delineate the story, making for a complex movie, but the patient viewer is rewarded in the end.

Richard Gere, Sharon Stone, and Lolita Davidovich breathe life into the three corners of a love triangle. Stone is especially good as the calculating Sally, whose formidable personality holds together only at the fast pace of high-end social and professional success. Gere manifests the ambiguity of a man who must choose not only between women but between parts of his soul. Spirited Davidovich is very appealing as a vital woman deeply connected to fundamental contentedness and freedom.

Some philosophy is in order when considering this intimate, thoughtful film. It portrays various aspects of the human condition without embodying them. For instance, Richard Gere plays a man in the grip of profound indecision, but director Mark Rydell's hand is sure and his intent clear (`Whatever you're going to do, do it!'). The movie compresses the many small but meaningful moments that make up a lifetime into a taut montage of images flashing before the viewer's eyes, evoking the close link between life, time, and death. It shows how the simplest, smallest gesture can trigger an epiphany of profound meaning as someone struggles to find clarity in their life. Best of all, the movie illustrates how, even in tragedy, everyone can come away with something positive worth clinging to, whether it's a message on an answering machine, a hurtful letter undelivered, or a plunge into the depths of peace.

Starship Troopers (1997)

verhoeven's finest moment

[13 December 2002]

Starship Troopers is a superior movie, and it might be the most subtly subversive anti-war movie ever produced. Its worldwide box-office take was little more than what it cost to make the film. Many moviegoers and critics disliked the film, claiming that it was too fascistic, too unrealistic, too much like U.S. propaganda, too far from the novel it was based on, etc. The point that many missed would have been clear had they examined in any detail what director Paul Verhoeven achieved: an intelligent, visually exciting extravaganza consistent in theme and purpose with the best science-fiction concepts.

The meticulous care that went into the making of Starship Troopers is evident throughout the film. The curious viewer can watch multiple times and glean new details at each iteration, to a far greater extent than is possible with similar sprawling sci-fi or fantasy movies. Several dynamic crowd scenes were not so much staged as they were choreographed, made all the more impressive where live action blends with CGI animation and articulated props. In all fairness, the movie's copious amounts of spurting organic fluids are not for the squeamish viewer. Overall, however, Starship Troopers set standards for audiovisual realism in fantastic subject matter that have yet to be matched by any movie, including the Star Wars cycle.

The plot is just as meticulously outlined. The story of how a war unfolds is carefully laid out using standard narrative flow, flashback, and (most importantly) segues to news-program-type `videobytes' supposedly accessed by an interested (or not) viewer during the war itself. The news programming tells the movie's real story. The clear picture of the nature of the war, the government that wages it, and the filmmakers' intent emerges as on-camera citizens evoke a society that sometimes questions, more often embraces aggression, all with superficial wholesomeness. These scenes amount to the reality television of a possible future. The speculative concept is half of what makes the film outstanding science fiction.

The other half, Starship Troopers' didactic tone, also blooms in the movie. Amidst all the flashy spectacle, a cautionary message emerges: humanity in general, and the USA in particular, might take heed of its aggressive ways before expanding outward with self-absorbed, self-justified purpose. The movie's training-film-style imagery and dialogue effectively depict clean-cut, gung-ho youth used by a government to fulfill an agenda of insidious aggression disguised as defense. The final line, `They'll keep fighting! And they'll win!' imparts an ominous chill that might be lost on some viewers. Regardless of individual tastes and perspectives, the message is there for those who choose to reflect upon it. Starship Troopers is great science fiction, outstanding moviemaking, and a wonderful mixture of visceral fun and thematic weight.

Never Say Never Again (1983)

on its own merits

[12 December 2002]

Never Say Never Again (NSNA) is a partially successful, one-shot reinterpretation of James Bond movies. Some elements are enjoyable and recommended, but substantial drag might bore some viewers. The good points: Klaus Maria Brandauer and Barbara Carrera as a couple of amusingly wacko villains. The weak points: the music, the direction, and Kim Basinger as a pretty but bland heroine.

The during-credits sequence is one of the highlights of the movie. It also has the advantage of being set to reasonably engaging music, which is more than one can claim for most of the film. NSNA amply demonstrates the importance of a musical score in creating or destroying mood. The music throughout the film is annoyingly heavy on jazz orchestrations and light on emotional resonance, which worsens the effect of Irvin Kershner's flat direction. The slow-paced fight scene in the Shrublands health clinic is set to no music at all, and the action proceeds at a snail's pace when Bond's opponent walks slowly across various rooms. The North African action scenes drag before the action goes underwater, at which point the pace just about dies as the music limps on. It's a rather dreary experience. Besides the opening, there is one sequence during which the music and direction combine well and provide excitement: the motorcycle chase from the French villa to the harbor.

Sean Connery looks great in the role he helped create, and he is convincing as an aging Bond who still has what it takes. At this early point in her film career, Kim Basinger is nowhere near enough actress to balance Connery as a female lead. Carrera is a much better larger-than-life counterpart for him. The fun of the movie comes from watching Carrera and Brandauer chew scenery. Brandauer is especially good as a villain who seethes with determination one minute, then drifts into glassy-eyed musing, buoyed by currents of insanity at which one can only guess. He injects fun into goofy lines such as `You were a very good secret agent.' All told, there's entertainment in NSNA, but a viewer should prepare for an uneven, somewhat slow ride before climbing aboard.

The Living Daylights (1987)

a little night music

[11 December 2002]

The Living Daylights is enjoyable despite its sprawling, convoluted plot and a weak contingent of villains (each flaw might explain the other). The action is uniformly well staged, and the story contains genuine romance, which is somewhat rare in Bond films. The romance and musical elements are very classy and lend a waltz-like feel to the non-action sections. Bond's motivations have as much to do with old-fashioned chivalry as with intelligence operations.

The story is uneven: Bond's efforts to track down a would-be defector turn into a crusade against international oppression. There are a lot of characters and situations to keep track of as the movie unfolds. Neither Whitaker nor Koskov is very threatening as a villainous presence. One could claim that Whitaker is the `main' villain, but he's the weakest in the Bond series. Andreas Wisniewski as Necros exudes ruthless, deadly skill, especially when the character makes a mockery of an MI6 safe house. He's actually the most threatening presence in the film, far more a worthy Bond foe than his boss, Whitaker.

Much more successful is Timothy Dalton in his first Bond outing. The Gibraltar opening is one of the high points of the Bond series, serving extremely well as the introduction to a new Bond actor. Later, one can almost feel the fire in Dalton's eyes as he portrays deadly anger at the death of Bond's colleague. A popping balloon perfectly punctuates the powerful emotion. The very appealing Maryam d'Abo as the heroine lends an effective balance of naivete and spirit to her role as a young woman who has seen little of the world but is wise enough to live in it fully when she gets the chance. This is a worthwhile Bond movie.

Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

smooth, cool update of a proven recipe

[10 December 2002]

Tomorrow Never Dies is a successful update of the classic James Bond formula. It achieves a tenuous balance between gritty realism and outrageousness that characterizes the best of the Bonds, and it does so with an understated, breezy style that belies reported behind-the-scenes problems during its production. There are a few flaws that detract from the fun: usually excellent character actor Vincent Schiavelli is more laughable than threatening as a quiet psychopath; the drilling weapon and tilted helicopter stunt seriously fracture believability; and the Bond car has a few too many hokey gadgets. Otherwise, it's a smooth, enjoyable ride. Despite the movie's unbelievable elements, it's the most realistic of the four Brosnan Bond films to date.

Pierce Brosnan coolly embodies all the best characteristics of his predecessors. Jonathan Pryce as a villainous CEO hams it up without quite going overboard, putting a modern spin on megalomania. The beautiful, reserved, and formidable Michelle Yeoh is superior as the only Bond woman who's a flat-out equal partner for Bond. Götz Otto plays it straight out of the Red Grant and Oddjob school of henchmen, and Teri Hatcher adds a splash of brave, fatalistic sultriness to the mix. The title song and credits drip with a trippy melancholy that evokes her character's tragic theme.

Bruce Feirstein's writing balances wit, genuine drama, and mostly straightforward action, with a whiff of cautionary sociopolitical commentary thrown in. Except at the film's end, when the clatter of gunfire draws on too long, Roger Spottiswoode's direction is tight. The opening sequence is one of the best in the series, and the obligatory mission briefing scene soon afterward crackles with urgency as Bond and the MI6 crew exchange rapid-fire dialogue in a speeding car. All told, it's a treat!

The World Is Not Enough (1999)

high aim, hard fall (spoiler warning)

[9 December 2002]

Of all the James Bond films, The World Is Not Enough reaches the farthest toward genuine character exposition, particularly for a villainous character. Regardless of whether this goal is appropriate to a movie series that strives primarily for fun, it's a solid attempt to provide dramatic weight for more adult, discerning fans. Despite such aims, however, the movie ultimately bogs down in several flaws: implausible action, a poorly drawn heroine character, a bid to give high-caliber actors more screen time, and an unsettling exploration of dark minds. In short, the movie's not as good as the producers tried to make it.

Implausible action occurs in several places. On the ski slopes of the Caucasus mountains, para-ski vehicles fly precisely and elegantly until, foolishly and implausibly, they fly into a forest. In a missile silo, Bond stays just in front of (or just within) perfectly timed and choreographed explosions. A factory is destroyed by tree-trimming helicopters whose saw blades cut precisely along the exact center of objects in their way. A fight aboard a submarine is a chaotic jumble of silly technical contrivances.

More importantly, there is a drastic difference between the character development of Christmas Jones and that of Renard, M, and Elektra King. All three of the latter roles are played by excellent performers, and the producers commendably tried to give them more meaningful screen time than would normally be the case in a Bond film. This is not successful because it is at odds with (but unfolds within) the pervasive, core Bond formula: Bond, the central character, will triumph with a heroine by his side. The Christmas Jones part would have to be far better written to match the depth of the other three characters, and Denise Richards, game and spunky though she is, does not transcend her character's thin dimension or lame dialogue. The viewer is simply less involved with her than with Renard or Elektra. It's possible that the Christmas Jones part was written as an afterthought.

Boatloads of villainous character are on display in The World Is Not Enough, but darkness is not the same as depth. The twisted psychology at work is erratic and unconvincing. The moment when M receives a perverse gift is so jarringly inappropriate that it's uncomfortable to watch. And the idea that two kindred spirits, equally sociopathic as they may be, could form a loving, tender alliance to commit mass murder is more creepy than over the top. All told, the movie means well but falls fairly hard, proving how difficult it is to pull off a Bond movie that is fun and exciting, with a successful balance of fantasy and realism.

Licence to Kill (1989)

bet on a dark horse and win

[6 December 2002]

Licence to Kill frequently flirts with the bottom of favorite Bond movie lists, but it's the best of the series in several important categories. Skeptics might keep in mind that Bond movies blend formulaic elements of fantasy with a realism that is appropriate to the theme of international intrigue, the backdrop for all the films in the series.

Licence to Kill is the most realistic Bond film, including the classic contenders From Russia With Love and On Her Majesty's Secret Service. Only one small scene is unlikely to the point of implausibility: the truck wheelie. The movie's down-to-earth feel sits neatly beside the sensational qualities that infuse all Bond movies with a sense of adventure and fun.

Timothy Dalton gives the best Bond performance of all in several ways: closeness to the character created by Ian Fleming; well-rounded acting ability; and portrayal of a man who is clearly dangerous but complex and human. Dalton displays emotional resonance that is consistently relevant to the situation at hand, whether it requires charm, bravery, or lethal action. He's an intelligent and athletic actor at the top of his game in Licence to Kill.

Although it's lean on mystery, the script employs a well-balanced blend of most other successful ingredients for good Bond: suspense, action, drama, and humor. Some feel that there is little to no humor in Licence to Kill, but the humor is either of the gallows variety or just less simplistic, childish, and pun-based than it was in the Roger Moore Bond films. Some examples of humor that is more sophisticated than usual for Bond are in the following scenes: the reactions of the henchmen as Bond insults them in Sanchez's office; the coy suaveness with which Sanchez serves Bond morning coffee; or the look on Q's face when Lupe Lamora tells Pam Bouvier that Bond spent the night with her. Even the presence of Wayne Newton lends a funky, goofball charm to the proceedings. The movie contains plenty of humor--it's just not the kind of humor that hits the viewer over the head with a brick.

In short, Licence to Kill strikes a superior balance among spectacle, realism, drama, and fun. Given comparatively modern production technology and values, it's also better filmed than the 1960s-era Bond movies. Licence to Kill is close to, if not at, the top of the Bond heap.

GoldenEye (1995)

recommended, with some reservations

[4 December 2002]

GoldenEye will always be known as the film that brought new life to EON Productions' James Bond film franchise. For Bond fans, that alone makes it worth watching. On its own merits, despite some flaws, it's a decent entry in the Bond series.

The opening sequence and credits provide a somber set-up for the ensuing mood of crumbled Cold War ideology and the corruption that filled the vacuum. The first glimpse of Pierce Brosnan is vampiric (perhaps in a nod to Batman) and less satisfying than the viewer's introduction to Sean Connery, George Lazenby, or Timothy Dalton. But Brosnan quickly makes clear that he is a dynamic Bond actor who brings together the best elements of all his predecessors. The ensuing plot is serviceable but convoluted.

One major flaw of the film is the character exposition on Janus. What little back story there is to explain his treasonous villainy is glossed over with trite contrivance. In a non-Bond film, there might have been sufficient time and space to explore the nuances necessary to describe Janus' complex motivations. In GoldenEye, the character is stuck between emotional resonance and the need to plausibly anchor and advance the plot, ultimately serving neither goal well. It's difficult to buy into either of the two aspects of Janus that appear in the film.

Izabella Scorupco plays the most spirited, fiery Bond heroine ever. She's a fine actress for any action film, and her part in GoldenEye is well written. She also lends plenty of dramatic weight to her role, particularly when her character confronts men (including Bond) who demonstrate the dark side of masculine behavior. The film's reflection upon masculinity in general and as it relates to the Bond phenomenon is admirable and handled quite well.

Several instances of foolishness or absurdity mar the otherwise dangerous tone of the story. The bicyclists' pratfall is childish. The tank sequence is over the top without the statue, but this element pushes the scene into ridiculousness. The evilly craven character of Boris is buffoonish right down to his bitter cold end. These scenes are obtrusive compared to the otherwise brooding tone of the film. More successful humor stems from the Valentin Zukovsky and Jack Wade characters, and the film ends on a genuinely positive note that blows away any somber clouds that might remain.

Die Another Day (2002)

3 out of 10 on a Bond scale (spoiler warning)

[3 December 2002]

Die Another Day (DAD) provides Pierce Brosnan the opportunity to build on his portrayal of the James Bond character, and he succeeds. The film opens with the promise of compelling imagery, mood, and toughness. Unfortunately, it nosedives to plumb depths of foolishness, absurdity, and poor writing previously not reached by EON Productions' James Bond movies. Compared to the most straightforward and realistic Bond films (From Russia With Love, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, For Your Eyes Only, Licence to Kill, and Tomorrow Never Dies--one for each Bond actor), the spectacle of DAD's second half is grossly illogical. For fans who prefer the best of the fantastic Bond movies (Goldfinger, The Spy Who Loved Me, and GoldenEye), DAD might hold some promise, but even by the standards these films set for Bond fantasy, there is much about DAD to criticize.

To portray fantastic situations, Bond films have always used a blend of optical effects, miniatures, and, most importantly, good stunt work. Even when the camera cuts between a stunt double and a lead actor, no matter how contrived or spectacular the action, it is real. A notable exception is in the opening of GoldenEye, for which no stunt man skydived into a falling airplane. The scene was spectacular, and it nudged the line between plausibility and fantasy, a line that most Bond films tread. The same cannot be said for the situations and CGI effects in Die Another Day, which not only cross that line but obliterate it.

DAD takes a turn for the worse upon the introduction of Jinx. Halle Barry is beautiful in the role but cannot overcome foolish, lame dialogue in the tradition of (but worse than) Christmas Jones in The World Is Not Enough. Compared to Michelle Yeoh's character in Tomorrow Never Dies, Jinx is an inept partner for Bond. She creates more obstacles than support for Bond, basically serving as yet another damsel in distress or undress. After Jinx enters the story, the writing becomes an increasingly thin framework for unlikely spectacle. Some fans consider Moonraker to be the creative low point of the Bond films. By the criteria of cartoonish and implausible spectacle, DAD is even worse. Perhaps the next Bond production will come down to earth as For Your Eyes Only did following Moonraker, but this will probably depend on whether DAD makes the $350 million (worldwide) that the previous three Brosnan Bond films took in.

For interested readers, a generic summary of the illogical plot follows (WARNING! generic as it is, it could be a spoiler): Two college students share an anarchic ideology. One becomes a supervillain, the other becomes a traitorous MI6 agent. Years later, Bond disrupts one of the supervillain's projects and, due to the traitor's actions, is taken out of commission. Bond later pursues the cosmetically disguised supervillain, whose staff includes the traitor. During a premiere attended by international guests, the supervillain unveils to the public a weapon of tremendous destructive capability (used at low output). Bond attends the premiere and is known to the traitor, who does not report Bond's activities to the supervillain. This allows Bond, who is a sleep-over guest, plenty of time to investigate the facility and cause trouble before the `unmasking' (for dramatic effect) of the supervillain and the traitor. The supervillain uses the weapon to destroy his own facility, which is still populated with sleep-over guests. The supervillain then uses this weapon of tremendous destructive capability in a master strategy of minimal, focused destruction. Western intelligence forces make one attempt to foil the supervillain's scheme, then stand by to fret and point fingers at each other. Bond foils the scheme, then escapes death in a manner that is absolutely impossible considering real-life helicopter aerodynamics.

Octopussy (1983)

half of a good Bond

[3 December 2002]

Octopussy has a split personality. What might have been a solid action movie instead bounces back and forth between tense plotting and foolish humor, like a tennis ball in play at Wimbledon. Most of the humor is quite bad and not worth mentioning. However, the action scenes, realized through some fine stunt work, redeem the film and provide solid entertainment.

One of the moodiest stalking scenes on film takes place after the opening credits. It's rather creepy to see a sad-faced circus clown pursued through a forest by shadowy, knife-wielding killers. The scene is later echoed as a gritty coda to a prolonged fight sequence atop a train. Bond gets kicked around in Octopussy but stays fast on his feet throughout. Roger Moore is an aging Bond, but he holds up just well enough to be convincing before the necessary cuts to the stunt double.

The story unfolds as a mystery while Bond figures out the villains' plan, which is convoluted but ultimately plausible given Reagan-era sentiments. Less satisfying is the involvement of the titular Bond woman played by Maud Adams. Her character mainly provides an excuse for the presence of many exotically clad women--visually appealing, but dramatically quite boring. More sincere is Roger Moore's frustration as he wears the sad-faced clown suit and the clock ticks. Some might feel that the seriousness of a movie in which a light actor like Moore provides the most effective dramatic moments is questionable, but the script, and Moore, bring more than a few moments of genuine drama to Octopussy.

A View to a Kill (1985)

forgive and (almost) enjoy

[2 December 2002]

A View to a Kill is the Bond movie that almost could. It tried and came close, but ultimately missed the mark due to major handicaps: an aging hero, a lightweight female lead, and a bit too much foolishness. There is promise, however, for the curious viewer who can focus on the worthwhile elements and forgive the rest.

Christopher Walken must have had fun playing the villainous Zorin. He injects offbeat relish into his lines and portrays quite a twisted creep (perhaps not new ground for Walken). The best thing about Roger Moore's performance is his portrayal of Bond's reaction to Zorin. It's clear that Bond loathes Zorin once the game turns deadly, and the emotion adds an interesting hint of realism. The best example of this takes place during the scene at San Francisco's city hall. Such realistic moments remind the viewer that Bond is human, not quite superhuman. Roger Moore was always rather good when the scripts gave him opportunities to show Bond's humanity, especially its serious side. This dimension is especially welcome in the Moore Bond films, which otherwise tend toward low humor.

One interesting bit of fun might have been an ad-lib: when Tanya Roberts fills out a Zorin employee's uniform that seems exquisitely tailored for her, Moore notes that it's a pity she couldn't find one that fits. More subtle is Bond's demonstration that real men don't only eat quiche, they make it. This type of humor is far more adult than the abysmal Beach Boys music, fire truck schtick, and Keystone cop foolishness. Ultimately, the movie can't overcome its flaws. If the producers had decided to downplay the childish comedy, lose Tanya Roberts' high heels and screaming, and find a younger actor to play Bond, A View to a Kill would have been an above-average Bond movie.