Tag: crime

Beyond the City Limits

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★★
“Promising concept gets bogged down in man-hating chick-anery.”

“It was a nightmare to shoot: the producer and director were constantly fighting… It was completely unorganised. Alexis [Denisof] was also in it and he and I would go into each other’s trailers and go, “We’ve made a huge mistake, this is the worst thing ever!” It just went terribly, terribly wrong.” So says Hannigan: wouldn’t say it was that bad, but it certainly ain’t good, either.

After the girlfriends (Hannigan & Kinski) of two Russian crooks get dumped, they sabotage a casino heist as revenge, then take it on themselves, with the security manager’s assistance. This crime is easily the most interesting part of the film, as things go awry and must be dealt with. Wish it had turned up an hour earlier, instead of the “men are utter bastards” whining that occupies the first two-thirds. The presence of Sophie B. Hawkins, both on screen and the soundtrack, doesn’t reduce the irritant factor any.

Why do they need police assistance? Why the random voice-overs? Why is Esposito’s cop ex-husband (Field) suddenly chased by other officers? This film doesn’t so much finish, as end, and most of the cast, save Russian psycho Brian McCardie, act as if drugged – perhaps literally in Hannigan’s case, since she plays a junkie. [Just like in American Pie, she seems keen to leave Buffy far behind, though she’s bisexual here too]. The US retitling is obviously intended to invoke Set It Off: that such a lame ploy is deemed necessary is all you need to know.

Dir: Gigi Gaston
Star: Alyson Hannigan, Nastassja Kinski, Jennifer Esposito, Todd Field
a.k.a. Rip It Off

Gun Girls

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★★★
“You must think I’m a cheap floozy – but I’m not. Not really…”

Based on the director’s novel, Girls on Parole, this prime slice of Juvenile Delinquent nonsense remains endlessly fascinating for students of “bad” movies, not least for its schizophrenic approach. It manages to combine moralistic doctrine – most notably from a parole officer who speaks Entirely In Headlines – and exploitation, with the heroines stripping down to their foundation garments (hey, this was 1956, whaddya expect?) about every ten minutes.

Three “teenage” girls – quotes used advisedly, since they’re about as convincing as Olivia Newton-John was in Grease – graduate from muggings to robbery, using guns bought from a leering fence (Timothy Farrell, narrator of Ed Wood’s Glen or Glenda). Of course, I’m giving little away to say that it all goes horribly wrong, this being the era when criminal behaviour inevitably led to tragedy. Also, I’d be the first to admit that the acting, direction and production values are about what you would expect. But how can you not like a film with lines like the one atop this review or, “C’mon, Dora – let’s conceal these weapons”? For despite many, obvious flaws, this still managed to entertain us, and at a mere 67 minutes, doesn’t hang around. You should know that the print quality on Something Weird’s release does leave a bit to be desired though.

There was a happy ending, at least for one of the actresses. Despite our suspicions that none of the trio would ever work again, Eve Brent, who played Joy (under her real name, Jean Ann Lewis), went on to a long, surprisingly reputable career including The Green Mile. I guess crime does pay, after all.

Dir: Robert Detrano
Star: Jeanne Ferguson, Jacquelyn Park, Timothy Farrell, Jean Ann Lewis

Set It Off

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★★★★
“Even-handed blaxploitation, mixes brawn and emotions to good effect”

After a couple of less-than-perfect entries in the ‘robbery girls’ subgenre, this came as a refreshing blast, with decent characterisation and a storyline that goes past the painfully obvious. Mind you, the moral remains the same – crime doesn’t pay – but at least the road taken to get there is interesting and complex. These women all have their own reasons for wanting to rob banks: getting back at society for perceived injustice, supporting a child, or simply for kicks. Interestingly, you can see both their point of view and society’s, the latter most clearly in a surprisingly sympathetic cop, Strode (John C. McGinley). The results are more a product of tragic circumstance than anything else.

We’ve seen elsewhere this can easily slip into cliche; for the most part it doesn’t, despite a lack of character development. Only Stony (Pinkett) and her relationship with a bank executive really counts – and if you can’t see where that’s going, you’re not paying attention. Still, there’s plenty to admire, not least a delightful homage to The Godfather. One way or another, we care about everyone, from extremely out lesbian Cleo (Latifah) to the brains of the gang, Frankie (Fox). The action isn’t ignored either, most notably the whirlwind event that is their first robbery; at the end, I discoved I’d been holding my breath. Despite dialogue which sounds occasionally as if it was in a foreign language, this definitely goes beyond a black audience.

Dir: F. Gary Gray
Star: Jada Pinkett, Queen Latifah, Vivica A. Fox, Kimberly Elise

Backflash

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★★★
“Interesting characters, in search of a better setting.”

Harley (Esposito) comes out of prison, and links up with timorous video store owner Ray (Patrick), who must impersonate her boyfriend in order to collect $2m stashed in a safe-deposit box. The cash was swindled from mob money-shuffler Gin (Meaney) – understandably he’s keen to get it back before his boss notices. You will not be surprised to hear that hardly anyone in this film is quite what they seem.

Indeed, even the places aren’t what they appear. The second half is set in Williams, Arizona which, by obscure coincidence, I visited three days before discovering it was in this movie. Or rather, a substitute that in no way resembles Williams. Okay, 99% of viewers wouldn’t notice, but it shows a lack of attention to detail; see also the motel where Ray’s smoking room clearly has a “No smoking” sign on the door. Must try harder, folks.

This borderline entry lacks action, though the heroine’s demolition job on a henchman is brisk and brutal. It’s her attitude which qualifies it for inclusion here, creating an underlying sense that things are always about to go off. The plot provides the expected twists, though Jones cheats by editing to hide information from the viewer. What really rescues the movie are the characters, who all have their quirks, most notably Meaney’s gangster with a Christmas fetish. Chuck in Melissa Joan Hart as a fake mortician, and Michael J. Pollard playing a bank security guard, and these are people worthy of your time. Shame the same effort wasn’t applied elsewhere in the film.

Dir: Phil Jones
Star: Jennifer Esposito, Robert Patrick, Mike Hagerty, Colm Meaney

Sugar & Spice

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★★★
“Bring it On crashes head-first into Set It Off.”

“Get ready to cheer for the bad girls,” goes the tag-line, and despite an exterior fluffier than candy-floss, the message here is actually extremely subversive: crime does pay. This sets it apart from most other crime-chick flicks, which almost inevitably end in death, destruction and more conventional morality. Guess being a comedy allows you a certain latitude in such things. Head cheerleader Diane (Shelton) gets pregnant courtesy of jock Jack (Marsden); finding it impossible to make ends meet, she takes inspiration from Point Break and convinces her friends to rob the bank where she works. But they’re witnessed by Lisa, a girl on the B-squad…

Written, produced and directed by women, this fully hits its stride only after the robbery. There’s one shot of the team walking down a school corridor in slo-mo, while their fellow pupils, fully aware of their exploits, scurry to get out of the way. Backed by Juno Reactor’s entirely appropriate Pistolero, it’s fabulous, and you wish they’d developed the post-crime scenario further, not least because the ending is extremely limp. Before the raid, it’s a hit-and-miss satire with some excellent jabs, but too much shallow emoting and hugging. Though award bonus points for casting Sean Young as a jailed mother, and the character quirks keep it from becoming too dull.

Certainly not the best high-school studio satire ever (Heathers or Election), it’s likely the only one post-Columbine to feature semi-automatics, albeit in watered-down fashion. According to Mena Suvari, “It was really frustrating, because the movie we all signed on to do was very dark and very offensive, and while the finished movie is still that to a degree, it’s completely different.” One can only imagine what the original would have been like.

Dir: Francine McDougall
Star: Marley Shelton, Mena Suvari, James Marsden, Rachel Blanchard

The Spree

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★★
“Xinia, Burglar Princess, learns that crime does pay.”

Good films about women burglars are hard to come by, for some reason. Mind you, good films about male burglars are also kinda thin on the ground; need I say any more than Hudson Hawk. This isn’t quite as bad (at least they don’t burst into song at any point), but falls well short of something like License to Steal, and comes closer to The Real McCoy territory. Xinia (Beals) is a burglar, who falls in love with snake rancher, Bram Hatcher. Bad news: he turns out to be an undercover cop. Good news: he wants a new career…as her accomplice.

This simple tale of infatuation, inevitably, turns out to be not so simple. The problem is, it’s still pretty simple-minded, with only one real twist, which is so unsurprising, it probably fails to count as a twist. Tommy Lee Wallace (Halloween III) handles the burglary scenes nicely, in particular an opening which has the heroine progressively more cornered in a house. She ends stuck in a bathroom, behind a shower curtain, with the owner in the room and about to have a shower; her escape is audacious, but it’s all downhill from there.

Could have done without the frequent sex scenes too; the use of a double for Beals is laughably obvious (breasts and face never seen together), while Boothe was 47 when this was made, and really should know better than to flash his ass. Rita Moreno, who won an Oscar for West Side Story, also turns up as Xinia’s mother – should probably have given Beals some dialogue coaching, as her accent wavers between doubtful and AWOL. Your interest will likely do the same.

Dir: Tommy Lee Wallace
Star: Jennifer Beals, Powers Boothe, Garry Chalk, John Cassini

Coffy

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★★★½
“The godmother of blaxploitation’s debut in the field.”

Neither star Grier nor director Hill were exactly strangers to the world of exploitation when they made this, but their combination here created a whole new subgenre, crossing action heroineism with black cinema. Following her would come Foxy Brown, Cleopatra Jones and the rest, but let it be said, Coffy was the first of any significance.

It’s a robust tale – or at least one reused frequently since with minor changes. Nurse Coffy (Grier) goes after those she sees as responsible for leaving her kid sister a drug-addled vegetable, be they low-level pusher, high-level supplier or the politician in cahoots, who just happens to be her lover. There’s no hanging round here; almost before the credits have finished, we get someone’s head being blown off with a shotgun, and Hill brings a hugely gleeful air to the violence. This is perhaps exemplified best by a marvellous and justifiably classic catfight in which Coffy, razorblades hidden in her hair, takes apart an entire escort agency’s worth of hookers.

Dramatically, it’s less successful, with neither the supporting characters nor the plot holding your interest. It often borders on the painfully obvious; when her cop friend turns down a bribe, you just know he’s going to end up hooked to one of those hospital machines that goes “Beep”, and inside five minutes, yep, there he is. Beep. He then vanishes from the film shortly thereafter, though it’s never clear whether he dies or not. At least this does mean we don’t get the even more painfully cliched “flowers on the grave” sequence. But as a Pam Grier vehicle, it’s fine, and if little more than a vehicle for sex ‘n’ violence, with questionable morality and a hackneyed storyline, it is at least done enthusiastically enough to pull you along with it.

Dir: Jack Hill
Star: Pam Grier, Booker Bradshaw, Robert Doqui, William Elliott

Trapped

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★★★
“Hell hath no fury like a mother separated from her daughter.”

Karen and Will Jennings have an idyllic life – money, a really nice house and Abby, the sort of six-year old daughter only ever seen in Hollywood films. That is, it’s idyllic until Joe Hickey (Bacon) and his family enter, kidnapping Abby for ransom, just after Will has left for a conference. Their scheme of terror has proven effective several times before, and the Jennings have just 24 hours to save their daughter.

This film is a contrast between the Jennings and the Hickeys, and in particular Karen Jennings (Theron) and Cheryl Hickey (Love), who are polar opposites in looks, lifestyle and background, but share a fierce dedication to their families – especially, their daughters. Both are prepared to go to any extreme, even violence, to right what they perceive as an injustice [if the preceding sentence sounds awkward, it’s because I’m waltzing around a spoiler!], and I defy you to watch the scalpel scene without a twitch.

Karen has to handle the ever-dangerous Joe, while Will (Stuart Townsend) is kept occupied by Cheryl, and Joe’s cousin (Pruitt) looks after Abby, who turns out to be severely asthmatic. The cutting back in forth is designed, partly to increase tension – it does – but perhaps more importantly, cover some dodgy plot elements. As with all kidnappings, how do the criminals expect to collect the ransom? This is never made quite clear, and as the film goes on, it unravels to a frankly implausible finale involving a light aircraft, a logging truck and a mile of busy highway.

Which is a shame, since the actors involved are good, even if none of the roles are much of a stretch: Courtney Love playing a white trash slut doesn’t exactly show imagination in the casting department. Still, if you want a Discovery channel documentary about a mother bear defending its cub, in human form, this is effective. I just wish they’d developed that side more, and the usual thriller aspects less. Hell, who wouldn’t want to see Theron in a 2 Days in the Valley-style catfight with Love? :-)

Dir: Luis Mandoki
Star: Charlize Theron, Kevin Bacon, Courtney Love, Pruitt Taylor Vince

Femme Fatale

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★★½
“Stylishly-shot but largely uncredible thriller, with a lame twist befitting bad soap-opera.”

Odds are you won’t see the key twist here coming, but on the other hand, it renders the preceding hour almost redundant. This sums up the entire film: as an exercise in technical style, few directors are as good at camerawork as De Palma, yet little here withstands scrutiny, despite an abundance of smoke, mirrors and Romijn-Stamos. She plays Laure, a jewel thief who cons her partners out of $10m in diamonds, then is lucky enough to fall into another identity. Seven years later, they get out of jail, still miffed, and she’s now married to the American ambassador. When paparazzi Bardo (Banderas) exposes her identity, she instigates a complex plan to play her various problems off against each other.

You have to admire De Palma’s guts: large chunks are without dialogue, and what’s spoken is mostly in subtitled French. It’s almost as if he wanted to piss off a typical American audience, not least in a finale so audacious, it almost invites you to come and have a go, if you think you’re hard enough. However, too often the style is pointless – a split-screen, except nothing of significance occurs on either side – and the twist remains a copout on every level.

While at best a borderline entry in the action heroine genre, femme fatales have a long, dishonourable history, going back to before women got to kick butt. Pointedly, the film opens with Laure watching Double Indemnity; both psychologically and mentally, she punts Bardo’s ass into 2008. This isn’t great art, and neither Banderas nor Romijn-Stamos were unjustly overlooked for Oscars, but any film where the heroine says, “You don’t have to lick my ass, just fuck me” has guilty pleasure potential.

Dir: Brian De Palma
Star: Rebecca Romijn-Stamos, Antonio Banderas, Peter Coyote, Gregg Henry

Golgo 13: Queen Bee

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★★★★
“A tale with plenty of sting, but too much sexual bee-haviour.”

Four stars but no seal of approval? That’s because this is about the most wildly variable animated film I’ve seen. The story and characters are great, but the frequent sex scenes are incredibly tedious and clearly put in solely for the teenage male fan (all pneumatic breasts and moaning). It’s rare for me to say this, but they are genuinely gratuitous, and the film could have coped fine without them.

Between times, there’s certainly plenty going on in terms of plot. Ultra-taciturn hitman Golgo 13 is hired to kill narco-terrorist Queen Bee, who has been sending threatening letters to a presidential candidate. From here an entire web is spun (sorry, failed to come up with a bee analogy!) of deceit, double-dealing and death. The anti-heroine comes across rather better than the anti-hero, since you see more about her background, and she’s certainly a fascinating personality, even in a grim world where no-one is innocent.

The animation uses every trick in the book to mixed effect, with some of the violence particularly well-executed. The tape I saw was dubbed, which is another reason to deny it the seal, though the voice acting here is largely painless (it helps that Golgo 13 has about five lines!). It may yet make it: I’ll likely pick up the subtitled DVD sometime, with a director’s commentary, apparently revealing that the candidate and his adviser were shown as gay lovers in a deleted scene. Frankly, I’d have been happy to trade that for one of the heterosexual encounters.

Dir: Osamu Dezaki
Star (voice, English dub): Denise Poirier, Carlos Ferro, Dwight Shultz, John Dimaggio