DIRECTED BY Antoine Fuqua
STARRING Mark Wahlberg, Danny Glover, Michael Pena, Ned Beatty
US 2007 120 mins.
GOYA’S GHOSTS **
DIRECTED BY Milos Forman
STARRING Javier Bardem, Natalie Portman, Stellan Skarsgard
Spain 2006 117 mins.
THE NUMBER 23 *
DIRECTED BY Joel Schumacher
STARRING Jim Carrey, Virginia Madsen, Logan Lerman
US 2007 95 mins.
Everyone’s so serious nowadays; must be a sign of the times. You wouldn’t think a director of action flicks like Antoine Fuqua would be so serious, and in fact he wasn’t a decade ago when he was making stuff like The Replacement Killers (1998) – but now he’s very serious, ripe with righteous indignation. The main beneficiary of his indignation is Africa (Mr. Fuqua is African-American) and four years ago, in Tears of the Sun, he called for robust intervention in that troubled continent, urging America – in the shape of Bruce Willis – to play global cop to the world’s evil regimes.
That was around the time when George W. Bush was declaring victory in Iraq – but now it’s four years later, and times have changed. Africa remains a theatre of war in Shooter (the film co-stars Danny Glover, whose activism on behalf of African causes includes a $1 million donation to a pressure group called the Transafrica Forum), but Fuqua no longer calls for America to intervene. Instead – though he still ‘supports the troops’ – he’s convinced nothing can be done till the rot is stopped on the home front, weeding out the liars (WMDs are gratuitously mentioned), miscreants (Abu Ghraib is gratuitously mentioned) and venal Senators who’ve betrayed the people.
Who’ll do the weeding-out? An expressionless ‘shooter’ played by Mark Wahlberg, first seen carrying out clean hits on unsuspecting fuzzy-wuzzies from a hillside in Ethiopia. It’s not clear what his past is – ‘daddy issues’ are hinted at – but it’s clear what drives him: patriotism and duty are his watchwords, and he even agrees to hear out slimy Colonel Glover (sporting a rather bizarre lisp) when the latter produces his Congressional Medal of Honour. Alas, the higher-ups betrayed our hero on that hillside in Ethiopia, leaving him to die – and they’re about to betray him again, leaving him alone and on the run, Richard Kimble-style.
The film’s merits as action thriller are considerable. A two-man raid on a fortified cottage in Virginia, using home-made napalm bombs and endless rounds of ammunition, is mapped out with a visual clarity few directors could match. A climax on a snowy mountain is also memorable. What’s missing is the human element, partly because Wahlberg isn’t allowed to develop a character – indeed, the actor often specialises in a kind of dumb intensity – partly because Fuqua prides himself on a cool, emotionless tone. Even our heroine, a sweet Kentucky schoolteacher played by Kate Mara, turns out to be steely, stopping the shooter when he tries to offer sympathy on the death of her husband (his old Army buddy) on that hill in Ethiopia.
Don’t, she says simply; “He knew what he was getting into.” Jesus, lady.
Shooter is a good film for gun-clubs, survivalists and readers of “Jane’s Defence Weekly”; it’s the kind of film where you learn (in passing) that sugar can be handy in treating gunshot wounds. It’s a bit alarming that it takes itself so seriously, advocating “Wild West”-style vigilante justice after legal channels are exhausted – but hopefully, despite Fuqua’s real-life political rage, it’s not quite as serious as it likes to pretend. After all, consider Wahlberg’s rationale when it’s suggested that maybe, just maybe, he’s taking this revenge thing a bit too far: “I don’t think you understand. These boys killed my dog.”
Speaking of seriousness brings us to Milos Forman, who started out as a satirist in 60s Czechoslovakia but has since specialised in prestige projects, some undoubted hits (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Amadeus), others unfortunate flops (Ragtime, Hair, Valmont). Forman is now 75 and Goya’s Ghosts is his first film in seven years; this in itself radiates prestige – the work of an Old Master, laboured over lovingly for seven years. On the other hand, it’s won nothing at festivals, couldn’t even win at the Goyas, or Spanish Oscars (talk about having an award with your name on it!), and hasn’t set the box-office on fire. Looks like another flop may be on the cards.
The film deserves to flop, which is not to say it’s unwatchable. It satisfies, in the hefty way of a 19th-century novel; the plot lurches “15 years later”, a desperate mother seeks her lost daughter and Natalie Portman succumbs to the most extensive ugly-makeup job in memory (scabs, dead skin, rotting teeth, it’s all here). She’s the film’s emotional fulcrum, caught between Goya (Stellan Skarsgard) and Brother Lorenzo (Javier Bardem), a high official in the Spanish Inquisition. “And the year was … 1789!” as they say in Start the Revolution Without Me; not only are the mobs stirring in Paris but Science is starting to usurp Religion, worrying the Church with talk of little particles called “atoms”.
Ideas float around in Goya’s Ghosts, but there’s no focus; Forman’s grip on his characters is tenuous. Goya comes across as a frivolous courtier, buttering up the rich and powerful, but is clearly supposed to be canny, complimenting the King on his awful violin-playing so he can paint the Queen as she really is (i.e. ugly) with impunity. But it’s not made clear that he knows what he’s doing, and then he seems completely different in the second half. Bardem’s character is even odder. He acts like a true believer, but then switches allegiance – from the Church to the Revolution – and is equally zealous, so he’s obviously an opportunist. But then why doesn’t he “repent” in the end to save his skin, like a good opportunist? I don’t get it.
Goya’s Ghosts isn’t incoherent, just sloppy; it lacks a firm tone – and sometimes takes leave of its senses, as when we get a detailed scene showing how Goya prepares his etchings just as our heroine is being tortured by the Spanish Inquisition (we literally leave her hanging there and go off for 5 minutes of BBC art-documentary). Some of it is unintentionally funny, mostly in the second half when Goya is deaf and we keep cutting to his roly-poly interpreter; some of it is just muddled. And some of it works, in a Euro-pudding way. Just be ready to giggle occasionally.
Never mind occasional giggles; helpless laughter is the best response to The Number 23, in which Jim Carrey (with floppy 70s hair) becomes obsessed with the titular number – and he’s not the only one. “It’s this number!” cries a character known only as ‘Suicide Blonde’. “This f**king number! 23. It rules my world!”. 23 appears in every nefarious event and talismanic villain in the history of mankind, at least with the right mental contortions. The Hiroshima bomb was dropped at 8.15 (8+15 = 23). The numbers on Al Capone’s prison badge added up to 23. The number of letters in “George Herbert Walker Bush” is … oh my god!
The first half is enjoyably ripe; the second veers out of control, notable only in confirming the trope that seemed so outlandish in Angel Heart 20 years ago but is now increasingly common as the world becomes more solipsistic: Everything leads back to the self. The plotting is daft, reaching a nadir when Jim finds the man he’s been desperately seeking but the man is dying – so his wife says “Take [our son] and go home while I take this man to hospital” and he simply does, thereby missing all the crucial information the dying man is about to impart! But the most puzzling detail is perhaps the fact that 9/11 also adds up to 23 (9 + 11 + 2 + 0 + 0 + 1), which I assumed
from the trailer would be the film’s ace in the hole – but in fact, though it’s briefly glimpsed among our hero’s scribbled gibberish, it’s never actually mentioned. Is it ‘too soon’? Were the filmmakers afraid of being ‘offensive’? You know we’re in trouble when even a film so ludicrous wants to be taken seriously.
NEW DVD RELEASES
Here’s our regular look at the more interesting titles released on DVD in the US and UK over the past few weeks. Some may be available to rent from local video clubs, or you can always order over the Internet: dozens of suppliers, but http://www.amazon.com (for US) and http://www.play.com (for UK) are among the most reliable, if not necessarily the cheapest. Prices quoted don’t include shipping. Note that US discs are ‘Region 1’, and require a multi-region player.
NEW FILMS
THE PRESTIGE: The best Hollywood film of 2006 gets an unimpressive DVD release, with only one extra – “The Director’s Notebook: The Cinematic Sleight of Hand of Christopher Nolan” – but it’s good to have it anyway. [US/UK]
LE PETIT LIEUTENANT: Acclaimed French ‘policier’ (recently shown at a local festival), named on the ‘Cahiers du Cin?ma’ Top 10 for 2006. No extras. [US]
THE HOST: Another one on the ‘Cahiers’ Top 10 – but also a Korean monster movie blending first-class action and social comment. 2-disc set includes copious extras. [UK]
DELIVER US FROM EVIL: Impressive documentary about child-abusing Catholic priest and the cover-up by the Church hierarchy. [US]
AALTRA: Very black French comedy about feuding neighbours; includes deleted scenes and related shorts. [UK]
OLD FILMS
PETER PAN (1953) (2-disc Special Edition): New outing for classic Disney, with everything from storybooks to interactive games to “Smee’s Sudoku Challenge”! [US/UK]
SHOAH (1985): Claude Lanzmann’s 9-hour Holocaust documentary is exhaustive and exhausting, with interviews that often turn into arguments. Unforgettable. [UK]
49th PARALLEL (1941): Powell and Pressburger classic from the good folks at the Criterion Collection, a mite heavy on the propaganda. Plentiful extras include ‘The Volunteer’, a 1943 P&P short starring Ralph Richardson. [US]
WHEN A WOMAN ASCENDS THE STAIRS (1960): More Criterion, a little-known Japanese classic about middle-aged geisha. Includes commentary by scholar Donald Richie. [US]
A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS (Special Edition) (1966): Not too ‘special’ in terms of extras, but Oscar-winning drama never looked better than it does in remastered version. Essential. [US]
THE EARLY HITCHCOCK COLLECTION: Nothing later than 1932, the only semi-classic being ‘Blackmail’ (1929) – but a steal at £28 for nine films! [UK]
UN CHANT D’AMOUR (1950): Why does a 25-minute short need a 2-disc package? Hard to say, though it does feature two documentaries on Jean Genet. [US]
