Posted by Lucifer Lyndon Razoodock at spider-th052.proxy.aol.com on August 03, 2000 at 06:01:02:
In Reply to: Anybody up for a review? COYOTE UGLY posted by Pootie Tang on August 03, 2000 at 01:37:10:
United States, 2000
U.S. Release Date: 8/4/00 (wide)
Running Length: 1:37
MPAA Classification: PG-13 (Profanity, sexual situations)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
Seen at: Ritz Five, Philadelphia
Cast: Piper Perabo, Adam Garcia, Maria Bello, John Goodman, Tyra Banks, Melanie Lynskey, Adam Alexi-Malle, Izabella Miko, Bridget Moynahan
Director: David McNally
Producers: Jerry Bruckheimer, Chad Oman
Screenplay: Gina Wendkos
Cinematography: Amir Mokri
Music: Trevor Horn
U.S. Distributor: Touchstone Pictures
Uh-oh, this doesn't look promising. Oh, wait a minute, the movie hasn't even started yet.
As absurd as it might sound, there's a strange synergy between very bad movies and very good ones. That's because films on either extreme of the quality scale have the ability to burrow deep into the subconscious, with unpredictable and occasionally remarkable results. Great works of art can cause euphoria, touch a deep emotional chord, or, in rare cases, affect fundamental changes in a person's outlook on life. Conversely, viewing unwatchable tripe can be damaging, possibly resulting in psychotic episodes, an appreciation of '70s fashion, or leaping to the defense of Pauly Shore. There's something almost profound about enduring a horrifically inept piece of cinema, and Coyote Ugly, living up to every letter in its name, offers the opportunity for such an experience.
My God - it's Showgirls without nudity!
For actress Piper Perabo, this is supposed to be a coming-out film (although she has one previous summer film to her credit, The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle, in which she played FBI agent Karen Sympathy). Like Sharon Stone and Elizabeth Berkeley before her, Perabo is attempting to use slick, ham-handed, high-profile melodrama to propel her career into the fast lane. The approach worked for Stone, in large part because she can act. It didn't for Berkeley, because she can't. Based on her work here, Perabo has suffered a blowout. There is no evidence of any talent - her performance is a collection of blank looks and batted eyelashes. She's a smile on legs - with dental work like that, her orthodontist should be proud. But teeth are all she shows - no crotch shot (like Stone) or erect nipples (like Berkeley). Not that the PG-13 rating could have supported either.
A wet tee-shirt contest in a PG-13 movie?? Who came up with that brilliant idea?
For hyper-successful producer Jerry Bruckheimer (the force behind 2000's Gone In 60 Seconds and about a dozen major hits over the last 20 years), Coyote Ugly represents a new low - a creative pit so deep that he has never seen its like. However, that's what happens when a testosterone magician attempts a crowd-pleasing drama with a female protagonist. Coyote Ugly is loud, gaudy, underacted, and completely without a soul. By comparison, Flashdance (Coyote Ugly's closest relative on the producer's resume) is a marvel of subtlety and character development. Of course, Bruckheimer can't take all the credit for Coyote Ugly. A sizable share belongs to director David McNally (making his first, and hopefully last, film). And I can't leave out screenwriter Gina Wendkos.
30 minutes in, a friend leans over and asks, "Do you really have to stay for this whole thing?"
There is a plot, although it's less of a structured narrative than it is a series of motion picture cliches bundled together. The storyline can be summed up in a few sixth-grade sentences. A 21-year old New Jersey girl named Violet (Perabo) goes to New York City to become a famous songwriter. Needing money, she becomes a bartender at one of Manhattan's trendiest night spots, Coyote Ugly. Behind the bar alongside fellow Coyotes Zoe (Tyra Banks), Cammie (Izabella Miko), and Rachel (Bridget Moynahan), and owner Lil (Maria Bello), she develops a reputation. With her confidence bolstered by the encouragement of her new boyfriend, Kevin (Adam Garcia), she gains the courage to pursue her dream of "sitting in the dark and hearing someone sing my songs."
Survival tips for viewing Coyote Ugly:
Do not see it theatrically
When viewing it on video, have the remote controller in hand and watch with a group of rowdy friends. Alcohol or any other mind-altering substance is recommended, but not necessary.
The best parts of Coyote Ugly (if the word "best" can be used in this context) are the sequences in the bar, which have the glitzy, overproduced look of amateurish MTV music videos. When the action moves outside of Coyote Ugly's four walls, the energy level downshifts so fast that a viewer may experience extreme disorientation. Coyote Ugly might have been enjoyable in a tawdry sort of way if we weren't forced to endure too many of these protracted dramatic sequences. The dialogue is stunningly bad - it's as if Wendkos made sure that every spoken line was either a cliché, a howler, or both (quite an impressive feat, actually). And Violet's big, breakthrough song sounds like the kind of recycled dance pop that permeates the airwaves at Top 40 stations.
There are some sights you don't want to live long enough to see. John Goodman dropping trousers while dancing on a bar is one of those.
From a creative standpoint, although Coyote Ugly comes dangerously close to the depths of the 2000 list currently occupied by Battlefield Earth, it is eminently more watchable. In the first place, this movie offers a steady diet of visual diversions. Instead of watching John Travolta walk on stilts and sneer through layers of makeup, we are presented with a bunch of good looking girls strutting their stuff. Plus, Coyote Ugly clocks in at twenty merciful minutes shorter, which is definitely a point in its favor. Finally, a case could be made that this movie crosses the line into the "so bad it's fun" arena. (That distinction is a matter of personal taste - I would have to be paid a large sum of money to sit through this a second time.) I can't imagine anyone making the same argument for Battlefield Earth.
During a somber and important scene, as I listen to the dialogue, I feel an inappropriate burst of laughter welling up from deep within. I stop trying to stifle it when I realize that about half the people in the audience are chuckling.
When movies are this bad, it's almost hard not to recommend them. There's a sense of perverse, masochistic enjoyment associated with sitting through something on the level of Coyote Ugly. That's why the likes of Plan Nine From Outer Space and Showgirls have amassed devoted cult followings. In the end, however, Coyote Ugly is a reminder of how awful things can be in a movie theater when the filmmakers miscalculate this badly. At least the print was in focus. That has to be worth a half-star. Throw in another half for the eye candy. Perfect fodder for connoisseurs of bad movies, although not a timeless classic.
As the end credits begin to roll, I make a beeline for the exit, feeling strangely dissociated from my surroundings. "Shellshocked" is the word.
© 2000 James Berardinelli
...and for shits-&-giggles, let us consider:
United States, 1999
U.S. Release Date: 11/12/99 (wide)
Running Length: 2:05
MPAA Classification: R (Profanity, sexual references, violence, controversial religious views)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
Cast: Linda Fiorentino, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Alan Rickman, Chris Rock, Jason Mewes, Kevin Smith, George Carlin, Salma Hayek, Jason Lee, Bud Cort, Alanis Morissette
Director: Kevin Smith
Producer: Scott Mosier
Screenplay: Kevin Smith
Cinematography: Robert D. Yeoman
Music: Howard Shore
U.S. Distributor: Lions Gate Films
After only three films, writer/director/actor Kevin Smith has become a major cult icon and a hugely popular figure among males in the 15-35 year-old age group. It's not hard to understand the attraction. Smith is as down-to-earth as they come. He calls things as he sees them and has the same likes, dislikes, neuroses, and obsessions as the average American Joe. He loves comic books and superheroes, is a big Star Wars fan, and isn't afraid of being seriously politically incorrect. Plus - and this is a big plus - he's a very funny guy. His wit, which is often self-deprecating (he calls himself a terrible director and a bad actor), never takes a vacation. Speaking to Smith in person is as enjoyable as watching one of his movies. His commentary tracks on the laser disc and DVD versions of his movies are better than the soundtracks for most comedies.
Smith's feature debut, Clerks, was a smash success at Sundance, where Miramax snapped it up. The movie is bawdy, crude (both in its amateurish appearance and language), and absolutely hilarious. Following the success of Clerks, Smith was given some money, and the result was Mallrats, a somewhat disappointing mixture of off-color humor and John Hughes. That film has perhaps been unfairly maligned - it's not great entertainment, but it has its moments. For his third outing, Smith again found himself on a tight budget, and the result was Chasing Amy, which combined elements of Clerks' humor with an offbeat, brilliantly realized romance that defies romantic comedy conventions at every turn.
Now, there's Dogma, Smith's most ambitious effort to-date. Sadly, this appears to be a case of a filmmaker whose vision exceeds his grasp. Like the previous Smith offerings, Dogma wants to make its audience laugh, but it also seeks to explore religious and cultural issues, and the two goals are often at cross-purposes. I give Smith credit for having the cojones to even attempt a project like this, but the more serious aspects of Dogma are only sporadically successful. It's not that there aren't intriguing ideas here, because there are, but some of the dialogue is surprisingly uninteresting and the movie runs about 30 minutes longer than it should
In a development that should surprise no one, Dogma is being denounced by the Catholic League (sight unseen). One wonders if these people don't have anything better to do with their time than to harass filmmakers. Yes, the movie takes a few potshots at Catholicism. The most obvious occurs near the beginning, when George Carlin, cast as a cardinal, announces a new "Catholicism - Wow!" campaign designed to re-invigorate the religion. The crucifix is being retired because it's a depressing image. Christ is to be seen as a booster, so the new icon will be the "Buddy Christ" - a smiling, winking Jesus giving everyone the thumbs-up. But in examining Catholicism's role in the modern world, Smith doesn't just crack jokes and offer mockery; he has several serious comments to make about the religion under the auspices of which he was raised. On one occasion, a character makes the penetrating comment that too many Catholics "don't celebrate your faith; you mourn it." Most of the people criticizing Dogma from the pulpit haven't even seen the movie; if they took the time to view it, they'd realize that the film's intent is far less heinous than they have been told.
Like the more scathing and incisive Monty Python's The Life of Brian, Dogma isn't as much anti-God as it is anti-organized religion. In many ways, this is a reverent motion picture, and it's clear that Smith has an excellent grasp of the material he's poking fun at. Roger Ebert has written that perhaps a catechism should be issued to non-Catholics before seeing this film, but I think he overstates how deeply into Catholic dogma the movie delves. I don't think the uninitiated will be left in the dark, although they may miss one or two finer points. For example, even though many viewers will not know what a "plenary indulgence" is, Smith offers an adequate explanation for his purposes.
The problems with Dogma are that it's uneven, overlong, and occasionally uninteresting. To be fair, there are times when it's positively brilliant, and some of the humor is hilarious (as we have come to expect from Kevin Smith). There were occasions when I was nearly doubled over with laughter - just not enough of them. Dogma is described as a comedic fantasy, but when it gets bogged down in the comic book-style elements, it grows tiresome. The film is about two angels, Loki (Matthew Damon) and Bartleby (Ben Affleck), who have been cast out of heaven for past misdeeds but have found a way back in using a loophole in Catholic dogma. However, since their return would prove God to be fallible, it would unmake reality. So it's up to a woman named Bethany (Linda Fiorentino), the "Last Scion," to stop them and save the world. She's not alone in her task - assisting her are Metatron (Alan Rickman), the voice of the Lord; Rufus (Chris Rock), Christ's ignored 13th apostle; Serendipity (Salma Hayek), a muse-turned-stripper; and the irrepressible duo of Jay & Silent Bob (Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith). Most of the film is patterned after a road picture, with this group of oddball characters slowly making their way from America's heartland to Red Bank, New Jersey, where the final battle will occur. Along the way, they deconstruct John Hughes movies and try to figure out where God has gone.
The plot is only sporadically involving, and there are long stretches when the humor dries up. This worked in Smith's Chasing Amy, when the characters were vivid and the drama compelling, but not here. No one in this film is particularly well drawn. Bethany, the individual with the most screen time, is barely fleshed out. The two angels, despite being portrayed by a pair of popular actors, bring proceedings to a grinding halt every time they make an appearance. Their arguments and philosophical ramblings are neither amusing nor insightful. For the most part, Smith is a brilliant writer, but he loses his way with Loki and Bartleby.
However, every time Dogma threatens to slip into unrelieved tedium, one of two factors saves it. The first is Alan Rickman, whose low-key performance as Metatron is delightful. Rickman's dry, acerbic wit does justice to Smith's dialogue in a way that a more flamboyant approach might not have. Then there are Jay & Silent Bob, who have appeared in all four of Smith's films. They're in fine form here. Nearly every line out of Jay's mouth is worthy of a chuckle, if not a hearty guffaw, and the ones in the worst taste are often the funniest (such as "An abortion clinic's a good place to pick up loose women"). Smith gives 90% of the good jokes to Jason Mewes, who delivers them with a stoned vacuousness. Jay & Silent Bob add a needed spark and energy to Dogma that is missing when they're off-screen.
A couple of fascinating casting choices are worthy of mention. The first is George Carlin, who plays Cardinal Glick, the driving force behind the new Catholic reformation. Much of what Carlin has to say and do lacks inspiration, but it's great fun just to see him in the role. Carlin's superior in Dogma, God, is interpreted by a mute Alanis Morissette (replacing Emma Thompson, who was Smith's first choice for the Deity). It's impossible to judge the singer's acting ability based on such limited exposure, but her one scene is interesting. (And, since she's in female form, Jay is interested in having sex with her.)
Dogma contains a great deal more violence than Smith's other films (none of which really had any - unless you count the deleted ending of Clerks), and it results in a large body count. (What else would you expect from a movie about a potential Armageddon?) The gore is all over-the-top and unreal (much like that in Sam Raimi's Evil Dead movies), so it shouldn't shock or upset anyone... but you never know.
Once again, Smith wears three hats. As a director, he can kindly be described as pedestrian, and he is unlikely to impress anyone with his versatility or aptitude. (During a pre-screening introduction at Toronto, he quipped that, for this film, he actually tried moving the camera around a little.) As an actor, his range is limited, but no one else could do Silent Bob as well. Smith's strength has always been his writing, so, on those occasions when Dogma founders in that area, it's distressing. The release delays and change in distributors (from Miramax to Lions Gate) have fueled anticipation for this film in some quarters, and those who approach Dogma with unreasonably high expectations may be disappointed. Ultimately, the movie is almost more noteworthy for the controversy it is causing outside of theaters than for its actual content.
© 1999 James Berardinelli
...and, in conclusion, here is his three-star take on "Scary Movie:"
United States, 2000
U.S. Release Date: 7/7/00 (wide)
Running Length: 1:22
MPAA Classification: R (Profanity, explicit sexual language & images, nudity, violence)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
Seen at Ritz Bourse, Philadelphia
Cast: Anna Faris, Shawn Wayans, Marlon Wayans, Cheri Oteri, Shannon Elizabeth, Jon Abrahams, Lochlyn Munro, Regina Hall, Dave Sheridan, Carmen Electra
Director: Keenen Ivory Wayans
Producers: Eric Gold, Lee R. Mayes
Screenplay: Keenen Ivory Wayans, Marlon Wayans, Shawn Wayans, Phil Beauman, Jason Friedberg, Buddy Johnson, Aaron Seltzer
Cinematography: Francis Kenny
U.S. Distributor: Dimension Films
It seems that every new comedy to arrive in theaters pushes the envelope further, daring the MPAA to give it an NC-17. Scary Movie, from the demented and very funny minds of the Wayans Brothers, becomes the latest motion picture to risk censure in the name of laughter - and gets away with it. Featuring scenes that make American Pie, There's Something About Mary, and Me, Myself and Irene seem almost tame, Scary Movie combines the raunchiness of '90s teen comedies with the single-movie spoof approach of Mel Brooks and the rapid-fire barrage of gags and jokes used in Airplane and The Naked Gun. With body fluids flowing almost as fast as the stream of often profane and off-color zingers, Scary Movie proves to be the kind of film that will shock the faint-of-heart and leave just about everyone else laughing until tears run down their cheeks.
Offended by gay and anti-gay humor? Avoid Scary Movie. Shocked by the sight of an erect (albeit prosthetic) penis? Avoid Scary Movie. Horrified by the thought of seeing grandma take a header down the stairs then get run over by a piano? Avoid Scary Movie. Put off by the concept of a character so stoned that when he gets shot in the lung, smoke puffs out of the hole? Avoid Scary Movie. Embarrassed to laugh at some admittedly juvenile humor? Avoid Scary Movie. But if all those things are your cup of tea, you might think this is the best film of the summer. It's certainly the funniest one I've seen year-to-date.
Only about 30-40% of the jokes in Scary Movie work. There are a lot of clunkers, and some that are simply too dumb to generate a response. However, considering the sheer quantity of material that is thrown at us, even a failure rate of more than 50% represents a lot of laughs. The Wayans Brothers use the same saturation comedy approach that worked so well in the '80s classics produced by the team of Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker. And, while the Airplane style has resulted in a number of stale duds, this is not one of them.
The central target of the Wayans' wit is Scream. It's certainly not the only movie to be skewered by Scary Movie, but it's the most obvious. Borrowing the overall plot on an almost scene-by-scene basis, director Keenen Ivory Wayans sharpens his knives and starts cutting away at characters and situations. He then throws in sliced-and-diced pieces from I Know What You Did Last Summer, Scream 2, Election, The Blair Witch Project, Titanic/Amistad, The Sixth Sense, The Matrix, The Usual Suspects, and probably a few others. (Note: the list of films parodies are strictly '90s vintage. None of the older entries, like Halloween or Friday the 13th, are approached with any vigor.) Even the "Wazzup" TV commercials get a moment's exposure, and there's a none-too-subtle reference to "Laverne & Shirley". As one might reasonably expect, some of these lampoons work better than others, but, when one fails, there's another just around the corner.
The film opens with bodacious high school student Drew Becker (Carmen Electra, who cheerfully toys with her image) making popcorn when the phone rings. A voice on the other end inquires what her favorite scary movie is and she immediately replies, "Kazaam!" Soon, she's running through sprinklers in her underwear with a masked man in pusuit. The next day, her murder is big news at the local high school, and pushy reporter Gale Hailstorm (Cheri Oteri) is on hand to get the story. Meanwhile, cute and innocent Cindy (Anna Faris, who bears a resemblance to Katie Holmes and is making her feature debut) begins to worry that the murder might have something to do with a man she and her friends accidentally killed last Halloween. Her closest pals, Buffy the bimbo (Shannon Elizabeth, the exchange student from American Pie) and Brenda (Regina Hall), and her boyfriend, Bobby (Jon Abrahams), try to convince her otherwise. But the killer is soon stalking her, and not even the efforts of Deputy Dufy (Dave Sheridan) can save the day.
One inherent problem with this type of motion picture is a tendency to lose comic momentum, and Scary Movie suffers from the malaise. The film has a significantly higher laugh quotient at the beginning than near the end, and there are several noticeable dead spots during the final half-hour (part of that results from the necessity of replicating almost every "twist" that happened in Scream). A shorter, tighter version of Scary Movie probably would have been better, but the film's lean running length of 82 minutes is already on the low side of what will play in a multiplex. Nevertheless, the material generates so much laughter that the overriding post-viewing impression is of an uneven film that's definitely worth the time investment.
Wayans gets away with several instances of humor that only a black filmmaker could apply without being called a racist. (He may still be labeled a homophobe and a misogynist by certain overly-sensitive individuals.) For example, he gleefully parodies the image of blacks as being loud, obnoxious theater-goers in a way that no white director would ever attempt. This isn't the first time he has challenged the precepts of political correctness. His feature debut, I'm Gonna Get You Sucka (a parody of blaxploitation movies), and his groundbreaking TV show, "In Living Color", both spent a lot of time on the edge. With Scary Movie, Wayans is taking this approach as far as the MPAA will allow.
Scary Movie had two working titles, both of which were more original than the final one (which, not coincidentally, was the working title for Scream). Like the Wayans' vastly inferior 1996 spoof of urban dramas, Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood, this film's provisional titles spliced together references to the movies it satirized: Last Summer I Screamed Because Halloween Fell On Friday the 13th and Scream If You Know What I Did Last Halloween. But (with apologies to William Shakespeare) this movie, by any name, would be as entertaining.
© 2000 James Berardinelli