By Joe Bendel t is not exactly a critic’s dream
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By Joe Bendel t is not exactly a critic’s dream come true, but it rises to one of our frequent challenges. We oft en lament studios’ remaking of clas- sic movies, making them considerably worse, rather than redoing and hope- fully improving less-than-great fi lms. Th at sort of happens here when Jason Statham steps into a role originated by Burt Reynolds. It’s already sounding better, isn’t it? In fact, Statham is much more convincing as the lethal bod- yguard with a gambling problem in Simon West’s “Wild Card.” Like the somewhat notorious 1986 fi lm “Heat,” “Wild Card” was adapted by screenwriter William Goldman from his own novel. On the screen, it follows much the same structure, but off -screen, hopefully there will be far less litigation. Nick Wild has an uneasy truce with the mafi a. He stays on good terms with the mega-connected Baby, but for the most part, he does not bother them and they do not bother him. Most of his jobs are a little demeaning, like babysitting nickel-and-dime gambler Cyrus Kinnick, but he keeps hoping to hit it big at the tables and run off to Corsica. (It was Venice before.) Th is equilibrium is disrupted when a visiting gangster brutalizes Holly, a prostitute Wild was formerly involved with. She wants him to get the creep’s name so she can pursue legal action. However, Wild wants no part of any- thing connected to the Golden Nug- get, which must be thrilled to be so explicitly identifi ed as a mobster resort.
Of course, as a good guy, Wild can’t help himself. Despite his hesitation, he lays quite a beating on the entitled Danny DeMarco and his henchmen and facilitates their further humilia- tion at Holly’s hands. From there, one thing leads to another. “Wild Card” has a handful of spec- tacular fi ghts (choreographed by Cory Yuen), sprinkled throughout long stretches of compulsive gambling and macho brooding. Th e gimmick for Wild (or Nick “Mex” Escalante, as he was once known) is his facility for using commonplace items, such as credit cards and poker chips, as deadly weapons. Needless to say, this works so much better with Statham than Reynolds. Dominik García-Lorido (Andy Gar- cia’s daughter in the excellent “Lost City” and in real life) and Stanley Tucci also represent considerable upgrades as Holly and Baby, respectively. Indeed, the casting is nearly perfect this time around. Unfortunately, the Kinnick character still gums up the works with his unnecessary subplot. Unlike the previous fi lm’s revolving- door battery of directors, West keeps “Wild Card” moving along at a decent clip, even though it is more about gam- bling and gangster power games than action, per se. He also maintains a rel- atively upbeat mood, nicely under- scored by some classic licensed blues and R&B tunes from artists like Magic Slim, Albert King, and Charles Brown. It still isn’t perfect but it is better, which is something. You could even say it’s not bad—but nowhere near Statham’s best work in “Th e Bank Job” and “Redemption.” Joe Bendel writes about independent fi lm and lives in New York. To read his most recent articles, please visit www.jbspins.blogspot.com
Jan. 30–Feb. 5, 2015 www.TheEpochTimes.com Films
C4 ‘Mortdecai’ Overdoes Innuendo, Under-Delivers FILM REVIEW ‘Mortdecai’ Director: David Koepp Starring: Johnny Depp, Gwyneth Paltrow, Ewan McGregor
LOS ANGELES—Any film cred- ited with its own “mustache wran- gler” really should have been much more fun than Johnny Depp’s lat- est misfiring action-comedy. Mostly set in contemporary England, but aiming for the zingy retro feel of a vintage Peter Sellers or Terry-Thomas feature from the Swinging Sixties, “Mortdecai” is an anachronistic mess that never succeeds in re-creating the breezy tone or snappy rhythm of the clas- sic caper movies that it aims to pastiche. Despite a heavyweight cast and the solid directing skills of A-list screenwriter David Koepp (“Juras- sic Park,” ‘‘Panic Room,” ‘‘Spi- der-Man”), this charmless farce ends up as another black mark on Depp’s recent track record of patchy pet projects. “Mortdecai” is based on the first in a series of irreverent comic nov- els by Kyril Bonfiglioli, a British author of Italian and Slovenian heritage. Published in the 1970s, the books chronicle the amoral antics of aristocratic British art dealer Lord Charlie Mortdecai (Depp), who is aided on his drink- sodden adventures by his thuggish but resourceful and sexually irre- sistible manservant Jock Strapp (Paul Bettany). Depp plays Mortdecai as a human “Looney Tunes” char- acter, a snobbish playboy nar- cissist so enamored of his comi- cally absurd new mustache that he risks driving his disapprov- ing wife, Johanna (Gwyneth Pal- trow), to divorce. Teetering on the brink of bankruptcy in his grand, stately home, the disreputable gap- toothed rogue spots a chance to escape financial ruin when a rare Goya canvas goes missing after a lethal robbery. Grudgingly recruited for his art-world expertise by suave MI5 agent and longtime love rival Alistair Martland (Ewan McGregor), Mortdecai jets off around the globe on a mission to find the stolen painting and exploit the priceless secret rumored to be hidden on its reverse side. Depp is known for channeling real role models into his charac- ters, often drawing on his musi- cian heroes, most famously Keith Richards in the “Pirates of the Car- ibbean” movies. In his accent and mannerisms, Charlie Mortdecai appears to owe a heavy debt to the small-screen creations of Depp’s friend, the British TV comedian Paul Whitehouse. Depp has previously guested on Whitehouse’s long-running BBC sketch comedy “The Fast Show,” and frequently offers him supporting roles in his film pro- jects, including this one. Here he plays Mortdecai’s colorfully foul- mouthed car mechanic, who also has a shady sideline fencing sto- len artworks. “Mortdecai” is stuffed with star names and classic farce ingredi- ents, but its fatal flaw is an almost surreal lack of jokes. The main players spend almost every scene mugging desperately for the cam- era, milking every possible low- brow sexual innuendo and clumsy slapstick mishap in novice screen- writer Eric Aronson’s thin script. Ironically, these overcooked per- formances are often more hin- drance than help when the occa- sional funny line arises. While Depp’s fruity Eng- lish accent is palatable enough, McGregor’s smarmy approxima- tion sounds forced and uncon- vincing. Only Paltrow emerges from this farrago with any real acting credit, playing Johanna with straight-faced understate- ment while all around her are los- ing their heads. On the page, Mortdecai and Strapp are clearly uncouth cousins of P.G. Wodehouse’s “Jeeves and Wooster.” On screen, their boorish mannerisms and retro attitudes owe more to “Austin Powers.” But while Mike Myers found rich humor in the gap between a chauvinistic past and politi- cally correct present, much of the labored comedy in “Mort- decai” relies on dated stereo- types unredeemed by any hint of post-modern irony. Women are insatiable nymphomaniacs who enjoy being groped, Americans vulgar materialists, Brits upper- class dimwits, and so on. These caricatures are too crude to be offensive, but also too stale and lazy to be funny. The final set piece, which takes place at an upmarket London art auction house, brings all the characters and subplots together in an orgy of cartoonish violence and triple-cross deceptions that quickly becomes tiresome. For all its minor offenses against taste and decency, the sole unforgivable sin that “Mortdecai” commits is one that would leave its rakish antihero aghast. Because the film that bears his name is ultimately a frightful, crashing bore. From The Associated Press via The Hollywood Reporter ‘Wild Card’
t is not exactly a crit- ic’s dream come true, but it rises to one of our frequent challenges. We often lament studios’ remaking of clas- sic movies, making them considerably worse, rather than redoing and hopefully improving less-than-great films. That sort of happens here when Jason Statham steps into a role originated by Burt Reynolds. It’s already sounding better, isn’t it? In fact, Statham is much more convincing as the lethal bodyguard with a gambling problem in Simon West’s “Wild Card.” Like the somewhat notorious 1986 film “Heat,” “Wild Card” was adapted by screenwriter Wil- liam Goldman from his own novel. On the screen, it follows much the same structure, but off-screen, hopefully there will be far less litigation. Nick Wild has an uneasy truce with the mafia. He stays on good terms with the mega-connected Baby, but for the most part, he does not bother them and they do not bother him. Most of his jobs are a little demeaning, like babysitting nickel-and- dime gambler Cyrus Kinnick, but he keeps hop- ing to hit it big at the tables and run off to Corsica. (It was Venice before.) This equilibrium is disrupted when a visiting gangster brutalizes Holly, a prostitute Wild was formerly involved with. She wants him to get the creep’s name so she can pursue legal action. However, Wild wants no part of anything connected to the Golden Nugget, which must be thrilled to be so explicitly identified as a mobster resort. Of course, as a good guy, Wild can’t help him- self. Despite his hesitation, he lays quite a beating on the entitled Danny DeMarco and his henchmen and facilitates their further humiliation at Hol- ly’s hands. From there, one thing leads to another. “Wild Card” has a handful of spectacular fights (choreographed by Cory Yuen), sprinkled through- out long stretches of compulsive gambling and macho brooding. The gimmick for Wild (or Nick “Mex” Escalante, as he was once known) is his facil- ity for using commonplace items, such as credit cards and poker chips, as deadly weapons. Needless to say, this works so much better with Statham than Reynolds. Dominik García-Lorido (Andy Garcia’s daughter in the excellent “Lost City” and in real life) and Stanley Tucci also represent considerable upgrades as Holly and Baby, respec- tively. Indeed, the casting is nearly perfect this time around. Unfortunately, the Kinnick character still gums up the works with his unnecessary subplot. Unlike the previous film’s revolving-door bat- tery of directors, West keeps “Wild Card” mov- ing along at a decent clip, even though it is more about gambling and gangster power games than action, per se. He also maintains a relatively upbeat mood, nicely underscored by some classic licensed blues and R&B tunes from artists like Magic Slim, Albert King, and Charles Brown. It still isn’t perfect but it is better, which is some- thing. You could even say it’s not bad—but nowhere near Statham’s best work in “The Bank Job” and “Redemption.” For fans of old-school Vegas, “Wild Card” opens this Friday, Jan. 30, in New York. Joe Bendel writes about independent film and lives in New York. To read his most recent articles, please visit www.jbspins.blogspot.com
‘Wild Card’ Director: Simon West Starring: Jason Statham, Michael Angarano, Dominik García-Lorido Run Time: 1 hour, 32 minutes Release Date: Jan. 30 Rated: R LIONSGATE Johnny Depp appears in a scene from “Mortdecai.” AP PHOTO/LIONSGATE, DAVID APPLEBY Jason Statham stars as Nick Wild in “Wild Card,” an updated version of 1986’s “Heat.” LI O
SG AT E B1 February 5–11, 2015 Life
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