88 MINUTES: A MOVIE REVIEW

88 MINUTES (2008)

This is conclusive proof that Al Pacino will never escape his Hollywood niche which is a triangle whose sides are: cops, criminals, perverted sex. I was disappointed with Pacino once again playing a character caught in a milieu of perverted doings, which seem ALWAYS to be exploited in his films. Now, some will defend him, based on his Godfather movies. Yet, even in these films he is operating in an aberrant world, where murder serves the same function as a lawsuit in the normal world.

The very first film in which I encountered Al Pacino, he played an undercover vice officer in NYC, working the homosexual scene. The film was entitled, Cruising. In that film several little known homosexual “pleasures” are partially depicted and/or alluded to. To that extent it served as an educational film for that part of the general public that witnessed it. The impression was not a good one. This film set the tone for Pacino’s career. Has any actor on the “big screen” had as many roles as either a cop or a criminal? Clint Eastwood may be competitive, but no one ever combined these twin careers so frequently with obsessive exploitation of sex to hype a movie, as Al Pacino has.

Almost predictably for an Al Pacino flick, his character, Dr. Jack Gramm, is a Forensic Psychiatrist who works closely enough with the FBI to have an FBI ID, with which he can threaten and intimidate citizens, as he searches for “bitten hand” marks, or other pretext. [Admittedly, this may have some utility as commentary on modern police procedure in the era of Homeland Security.] Also, almost a predictable certainty, he specializes in serial murderers. He gets into their “heads,” doncha know? Guess what? Seattle has one in this film. How handy! Dr. Jack Gramm is teaching a class in his specialty at Northwest Washington University. This is also handy, as many moviegoers will immediately assume that such students are NOT QUITE RIGHT in the head. Therefore, they provides a snakes’ nest of misdirection and false trails to keep viewers guessing. Further, it is hardly surprising that Dr. Jack Gramm’s “girl Friday” at his office is “gay.” In an Al Pacino film, the viewer would sort of expect that. Finally, I’ll mention, although certainly it isn’t the last item one could list, Dr. Jack Gramm had a baby sister, maybe 9 years old, who was left alone many years ago by Jack when he pursued his special interest, when he lived in NYC, and she was torture-murdered over an 88 minute period, all of which was taped by the murderer.

Wholesome ingredients for a sensational movie? You be the judge.

Al Pacino is really a man with acting skills (overacting skills as well), so that his movies are bolstered somewhat by his ability to achieve credibility for his characters on screen. He has a degree of film charisma, as well. The moviegoer witnessed that when he starred with Johnny Depp in Donnie Brasco, and Pacino became the focus of every scene they were in together (quite a few). Al Pacino has made many movies. Too bad his film ouevre will be so thematically limited and questionable. [His is not the same sort of case as that of the greatly talented Annette Benning, whose abuse was at the hands of obtuse Hollywood producers, and, accordingly her film oeuvre is slight.] Al Pacino willingly participated in the abuse of his talent. 

This film is set in Seattle. Not surprisingly, it was often raining or overcast. To counter the gloom, Seattlans have at least shown an architectural flair, which tends to defuse the effects of relentless gray skies.

The film’s preamble is set in 1997.

The film opens with the cute Cates girls in their pad. They are twins. One retires quickly to her bed, while the other muses over the fate of Princess Di. Her sister, Joanie (Vicky Huang), from her bed, calls for “Janie” (Tammy Hui) to “turn down the music” and feed the cat. [It recalled to my mind the old song: "Put out the dog, and bring in the cat."]

Parenthetically, as twins are alleged to have an extremely high correlation of likes and dislikes (genetic programming), one would expect that the twin, Joanie, would find the music as enjoyable, as her twin, Janie, did. But let’s proceed with this opening, as it is alluded to visually and verbally often in the film, besides being the very heart of the issue which brings Dr. Gramm into adversarial relationship with Jon Forster (Neal McDonough), the convicted slayer of Janie Cates. [It is also Exhibit A. in the case that this is a seedy, sexploitation flick.]

The viewer sees the skimpily-dressed Janie [her sister wears a sleeping gown] strolling about the apartment, calling: “Here, kitty, kitty!” This goes on a bit. At some point the viewer becomes aware that Janie isn’t alone. There is a male figure in the dimly lit room into which Janie has entered in search of the hungry cat. She is overcome. The intruder uses “halodane,” which is a liquid that vaporizes easily, after the fashion of ether, and functions for the same purpose. It is used especially in veternarian facilities to induce a tranquility unto sleep for pets.  With a doused rag the villain compels unconsciousness on Janie. He then attaches a grappling line with rachets after the fashion of mountain climbers to one of Janie’s legs and hoists her up by that leg. Then, he produces instruments of potential torture, including a surgeon’s scalpel, with which he cuts her leg. As she comes into consciousness and begins to scream, he reapplies halodane. He rapes and murders Janie. Hearing her sister, Joanie gets out of bed and makes her way to the room where Janie hangs upside down, bleeding, and where the darkly clothed and partially masked villain, lurks at her side. There, Joanie screams, and things happen so fast. It was so dim. It was so quick. It was so horrible.

This is the main preamble to be described. Did she–was it even possible–see the assailant well enough to say, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Jon Forster was the man in the room lurking at her sister’s side that fateful night. Urged on by Dr. Gramm, she fingered Forster.

[The judge was clearly sympathetic to the prosecution, cutting off a reasonable attempt by Forster's attorneys to defend their client on a "capital one" charge by challenging the credibility of the only link between Forster and the deceased Cates twin: Jack Gramm's professional hypothesis and judgment, utterly bereft of tangible evidence. Even so, the jury brought in a guilty verdict. As this verdict is bizarre on the basis of "beyond reasonable doubt" (Forster adamently denied guilt), one may view this as a liminal attack on the jury system.]

Story Summary:  A famous, wealthy Forensic Psychiatrist, haunted by memories of his baby sister, murdered by a serial murderer many years ago, when he left her alone, has linked his career with the FBI to do all that it is possible to do to bring such “sickos” to justice. Now, as he teaches college students the art of forensic shrinkism in the area of serial murderers, an old case keeps dogging him. Jon Forster is in prison, facing the death sentence soon, and loudly protesting his innocence and victimhood at the hands of a vindictive “shaman (Gramm).” Dr. Gramm doesn’t buy it. However, on or about the day after the night he drank too much (apparently a frequent occurence) and spent the night with Sara Pollard (Leah Cairns), later to be described as an “escort,” Jack Gramm began to receive strange, threatening messages, such as “you have 88 minutes to live. Ticktock, ticktock.” Now, as the day progresses, Jack gets more messages, each noting that the time for him to live is dwindling. Psychological warfare? That could easily be the title of this movie. Under this pressure, as well as the irksome public show of support for Jon Forster to be granted a ”stay of execution” (such support is a denial of Jack Gramm’s authoritarian pronouncements on abnormal psyches in action), Jack Gramm falls under the shadow of suspiciousness. He suspects nearly everyone of somehow being in cohoots with Jon Forster. Even FBI bro, Special Agent Frank Parks (William Forsythe) says to Jack: “I don’t know who you are anymore.” Well, hellsbells! Who can you trust? Even his lesbian office “right arm” gets into a hot lesbo scene which unwittingly opens his secured files to “nosey assaying.” Even his hot, pretty class assistant, Kim Cummings (Alicia Witt), has a shady connection that has surfaced. He is ex-con, Guy LaForge (Steven Moyer). Did he meet Forster in prison? He wears leather clothing, rides a chopper, and glares at Jack. Mucho suspicione! Everywhere Jack glances, there are suspicious people. And now people are questioning his authoritative views, as if he were maybe–well, hmmm–maybe crazy. Someone blows up his car. His bedmate, Sara Pollard, is found dead–with Jack’s semen present and still other evidences right there. And she was killed in the same gruesome method as Janie Cates! Gimmeabreak! Then there is a second copycat murder in which evidence of Jack Gramm’s presence abounds, including semen. Forgettaboutit! Dr. Gramm KNOWS that Jon Forster has an outside accomplish. Who? Meanwhile, he’s getting all those repetitious, annoying messages: “You have…minutes to live. Ticktock, ticktock.” Folks, trust me; this flick does come to a welcomed end. In the last terrible events the viewer finds three women and Dr. Gramm, who has narrowly talked Agent Parks into ten minutes at a particular building, after which ten minutes, the FBI agent would take him into custody. Therefore, the moviegoer is set up for a “nick-of-time” resolution. First the tease; then the squeeze. Oh, yes! There will be blood! After a final colloquy between Jon Forster and Dr. Gramm, the devious villain learns the grim truth: Al Pacino is the star of this movie and don’t lose, see!

From the outset of this film I placed my bets on Jack Gramm. During the brief meeting at the trial after verdict was rendered, Jon Forster upbraids Dr. Gramm, using the expression: “Ticktock, ticktock.” How many adult men do you hear going about saying that? Therefore, when the phrase was included in the messages, there could be only high probability that Jon Forster was absolutely guilty and the mind behind the threatening messages, psychological warfare, and the planned assassination.

I firmly believe that I have made this movie sound more interesting than it is. I found it tedious and covering the gorey sexploitation trail that any number of recent films have covered. Been there, done that–more than a critic should have to bear. I proclaim that this is absolutely the last “new release” Al Pacino movie I’ll go to see.

All rights reserved. Gobigfoot, 2008.

21: A MOVIE REVIEW

21 (2008)

Had this movie been a story about a rock band it might have been entitled: “Micky Rosa and The Sub-Rosas.” Bur its a story about Ivy League eggheads enticed into Las Vegas gambling by a professorial Fagin. Bummer? Not entirely.

This diverting movie proves that sometimes you get what you want. It is a fantasy trip for a drab, bland but brilliant MIT student, played by Jim Sturgess. His character, “Ben Campbell,” has dreamed all his life of attending Harvard Medical School. Why? The movie gives no clue. One is left to speculate. Still, the moviegoer learns that it isn’t cheap. It’ll take a cool 300 “big ones.”

So, early in the movie, the problem which “Ben” faces is broached. How will he get the money?

It should be stated from the outset that “Ben” is a super-brain among big-brains. There are so many “pointy heads” at MIT that the campus appears to be a gaggle of gothic cathedrals. Sturgess’ character has some MIT pals with whom he is especially chummy. They are working on a project to win the “209″ competition–an invention contest. He hopes, also, to win the “Robinson Scholarship,” which will pay the winning student 100% of his Harvard Medical School costs.

At a meeting with the man who will make the decision who gets the Robinson Scholarship, Ben is informed that all applicants have impressive credentials. This man wants to be “dazzled” by a story which relates the inner fireworks of the candidates. Woo me, he seems to be saying. Whichever student’s “woo” is most wonderfully illuminating will attract this grant-giver, as a moth to a flame.

The bland, ernest lad gulps. What can he say?

Folks, you need not get stressed! Kevin Spacey’s professor has been so impressed by Ben’s towering intellect that he believes Ben may be ready to join his Vegas card-counting team. One would not be too far off the mark if one compared Prof. Micky Rosa with “Fagin” of Oliver Twist fame. At any rate Ben is asked to become a member. He isn’t ordinarily interested in this sort of thing but does need that $300,000 for Harvard Medical. He agrees and finds out that Prof. Rosa could make a lot of things happen on campus favorable to his career. Ben is impressed by his brainy colleagues–all MIT “brain studs.” Also, he secretly admired campus cutie, “Jill Taylor” (Bosworth), who is also a member. He definitely would like to be friends with her.

Storyline: Brilliant MIT student needs $300,000 to graduate from Harvard Medical Scvhool. At wit’s end how to come up with the money, he agrees to join a card-counting gang, led by a professor of linear equations, Micky Rosa, which gang specialized in weekend raids on Las Vegas casinos. After some practice at learning the system which would allow them to operate “below radar,” they head to Vegas with their new “counting star,” Ben (Jim Sturgess). Ben has been comforted by the knowledge that it isn’t illegal. In Vegas Prof. Rosa provides them with fake IDs (now THAT seems illegal). The plan goes into effect and they do very well. Ben is converted, and now he is also admired by the others (a sort of meal-ticket). This keeps going until they have so much money that conspicuous consumption transpires. Still, no one in Vegas seems to notice this group that appear regularly at casinos, acting as if strangers, yet at all other times hanging together and spending freely. Well, Vegas casinos do hire security and hightech intelligence types to watch for card-counting and cheaters. The casinos aren’t charity. Occasionally, some one wins a lot of money. For the casinos, these are a sort of “loss leader.” Still, generally speaking, gamblers are suppose to leave their money in the “pits.” Laurence Fishburne, as “Cole Williams,” is this flick’s major Vegas nemesis to casino card-counters and cheats. And woe to the man that Cole takes to his subterranean den! You can best believe Cole’s going to put on his rings. Not good! Ben is putting away a lot of loot. Insanely, he is stashing his Vegas winnings above his ceiling. He has pushed up a panel and stuck $315,000 topside, just above his bed. Smart? Go figure! Ben has done so well at card-counting that a film-inevitability occurs. What goes before a fall? Class, you have one minute to write down your answer. Ben breaks the rules and ends up losing two hundred thousand dollars. Prof. Rosa is incensed. You’re out of the gang! Micky pretends to head to Boston. Ben, licking his wounds, tells the others that they don’t need Rosa. They can play the “21″ tables, just as they always do, and keep all the winnings for themselves. With Rosa they had to fork over one half the winnings, and he didn’t do anything. The other brains saw the logic. Yeah, they said. “Let’s do it!” They do well but Cole sees them on his monitors, knows that they are counting cards, and, upon careful scrutiny of backup video, discovers the system cues. Folks, this is hardly difficult, as they use the same techniques over and over, and the gang is hardly subtle about the cues. This is so even taking into consideration that the director dwells for excruciating moments on each of their signals. Also, the director seems to want to distract you from the natural boredom attendant upon watching people play “21″ for hours on end by having Mr. David Sardy play his original music as loudly as possible. At any rate Cole Williams and his team of beefy men head for Ben’s table like charging water buffalo. In disguise Prof. Rosa, angered by this mutiny, has “dropped a dime” on Ben. While Cole does get a bit physical with Ben, trying to make the point that casinos really, really don’t like card-counters. Well, it was a bad trip to Vegas. Mal paso and all. How welcome the environs of civilized old MIT! Ben gets home to find that his loot has been grabbed, that he has failed to graduate from MIT, and was denied entrance to Harvard Medical. Professor Rosa! Ben knew that he had to get on the good side of Micky once again. He apologizes and relates to the professor that he has a great new scheme to hit Vegas, requiring two high rollers. Maybe the professor could be one? Micky gets that old feeling. From something that Cole Williams had said the moviegoer realized that Rosa had been observed in the past and advised against playing his schemes again in Vegas. That’s the real reason he never participated with the gang. In Ben’s plan, however, everyone would wear disguises. THis intrigued Micky. Maybe he could go as a “red-neck.” The plot was on. All the crew gathered. No one suspected that a ruse had been put into motion–one conceived by Cole. Ben probably helped here and there. At any rate the Vegas trip was very successful. Then came Cole and his charging, red-eyed steer. Everyone in the team split. The chase was on. They divide. Ben had won a lot of money. Jill managed a bag flip-flop, and Prof. Rosa hightailed it with a bag–but not the bag. The professor is nabbed by Cole and taken to the merciless dungeon. Ben and Jill started for the airport, but, before escaping the casino, they were cornered by the porky Laurence Fishburne character. He was thinking of retiring some day soon and believed that their bag of chips would help his retirement be a comfortable one. He noted that with their brains, they will one day be able to have whatever they want. Although a common superstition, it fitted their own vain self-appraisal, and they agreed to part with the money. Cole’s exposing a handgun stuck in his waistband was undoubtedly calculated to give his argument “magnum force.” The youngster went back to Boston. Jill & Ben have become pretty tight. Also, Ben makes a point to return his relationship with the old 209 project pals to its previous harmonious level. Then he sees the man in charge of the Robinson Scholarship, because he now believes that he has a story worth telling. From the expression on the face of the grant dispenser, the moviegoer might well assume a positive astonishment. And, indeed, with a little help from his old buddies, “Vegas-calling’ transformed into: “can you say high rollers, baby.”

The flick begins and ends with a “Ben” narration. Between these are heavily padded film moments, as the director tried desperately to make an interesting story, especially in Vegas. Lots of pretty women traipsing about always diverts the viewer. Still, a thin storyline was pursued, and there was not included any pithy romantic subtheme to add strength and interest, and with an antagonist as bland as watered milk, all these accumulated together to proclaim: There’s not much here. What can a director do? He tried to sell sizzle. Still, for intellectual weight-watchers, this movie may prove enjoyable.

All rights reserved. Gobigfoot, 2008.