Rich people wanting richer.

Another villain with a bomb. Another hero who must defuse it. That’s what the twisty confusing plot boils down to in the James Bond actioner THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH.

The cold open features a rather tame, though humorous, escape for a Bond movie, as Bond easily rappels down an office building (tied around a man’s waist at the top) – until we see the real cold open excitement: a powerboat chase of a damaging brunette in red leather (featuring Maria Grazia Cucinotta, who would also appear this year in THE SOPRANOS as “Isabella” S1E12). Featured gag is Bond’s boat doing a corkscrew jump out of the water (homage to the corkscrew car jump in THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, 1974). After Bond damages more property and endangers more lives than any bad guy, the girl blows up (–awwww! What a waste of hotness!) and the opening titles slink in…

… with naked girls writhing in oil, while Garbage performs The World Is Not Enough.

Pierce Brosnan returns a third time as MI6 agent James Bond 007. Judi Dench is once again ‘M’ the boss, and Colin Salmon and Michael Kitchen return as office agents.

Desmond Llewelyn: The REAL secret weapon.

Desmond Llewelyn as weapons expert Q introduces “the young fellow who’ll be replacing me…” – John Cleese, who brings his A-game for the cameo! The producers wanted to film a farewell to Llewelyn in the last film (TOMORROW NEVER DIES) in case he retired, instead filming a quick goodbye here – and well they did, for 85-year-old Llewelyn would die tragically in a car accident one month after WORLD premiered. Bond even looks sad when he asks Q whether he is serious about retiring.

We did not know it at the time, but sadly, Llewelyn’s last words in a Bond film would be, “Always have an escape plan,” and as he descends out of sight, it would be the last we would see of him. The saddest cut of all is that Llewelyn expressed a desire to be in one more Bond film.

What would a Bond movie be without a car supplied by Q that shoots missiles? Bond uses such a car… and for the first time, when the car is ultimately destroyed, Bond makes a callback to his cantankerous pal: “Q’s not gonna like this!”

He might have provided the secret weapons, but all this time Desmond Llewelyn himself was the Bond series’ secret weapon.

Directed by Michael Apted (EXTREME MEASURES), this caper is set in motion when M’s personal friend is killed, leaving an oil empire for his daughter, Elektra (sultry Sophie Marceau, BRAVEHEART, 1995). A shoulder injury almost prevents Bond from pursuing the killer of Elektra’s father, but Bond plonks his hot doctor (Serena Scott Thomas) for a clean bill of health.

He makes contact with Elektra as a protector and ends up as an injector, if you take my meaning. On bedsheets that are getting progressively less concealing as the decade moves toward a new millennium. What I’m saying, boys, is – yes, there’s some nip slip…

As the hot chicks pile up, movie loses all credibility when it introduces Denise Richards as a physicist [record scratch]— named Christmas Jones, garbed in crop top and hot pants – because that’s how physicists dress. You read that right: Denise Richards is a Doctor of Physics — with not one scintilla of acting ability, as the producers discover when they mistakenly try to force lines of physics dialogue through those lubricious cupid-bow lips (“We’re safe from the radiation as long as the reactor coolant doesn’t burst!”) which were purposed by nature only for carnal intercourse grunts.

Christmas works for Elektra, who is trying to build an 800-mile pipeline “through Turkey, past the terrorists in Iraq, Iran and Syria.” Terrorists in those three countries? You don’t say! So they were praising allah and blowing up civilians back in the 90s, just like they are now? And 5,000 years ago, same. And I’m betting it will still be the same 10,000 years from now. Proving that there’s no cure for religious fuckheads.

A physicist arrives at work.

Some Bond movies snap our necks with all the unnecessary locations – WORLD is one of them. It just seems like writers Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Bruce Feirstein are thinking up vignettes to keep the story kinetic, yet not giving a toss on how or why the characters would find themselves in those situations. Like Bond and Elektra skiing down a mountain pursued by “parahawks” (guys in snowmobiles, suspended by parachutes). Choppered to the top of this mountain to supposedly “check the survey lines,” Elektra has brought no equipment except her skis and panties, no camera, no tools, not even one stinking clipboard to take notes. What kind of “surveying” are you doing, woman? It’s just a romantic interlude for these two, interrupted by Parahawk Action Sequence, which we would find out later has no meaning to the plot anyway.

At the Azerbaijan oil fields, Bond sees a helicopter outfitted with five circular saws hanging below it, cutting through trees, clearing land. Like THAT isn’t foreshadowing. (It’s what cuts through Q’s car later!) Part of the story is set in Istanbul, but a real life terrorist bombing there forced the filmmakers to do those scenes at Pinewood instead. (Thank you SO much, religious fuckheads!)

Robbie Coltrane reprises his role as Russian gangster Zukovsky. (We met him in GOLDENEYE; he skipped a movie, he’s back again, though I’m sure his accent has become more schoolyard-Boris than his last go-around.)

Eventually we meet the terrorist behind the bomb, with his oomph-Bond-gimmick: “a stray bullet moving slowly through his brain, killing his nerves, so that he feels no pain, getting stronger until his eventual death.” Robert Carlyle, so impressive in TRAINSPOTTING and THE FULL MONTY, has nothing to do here as Renard, generic Bad Guy. His gimmick is never even utilized properly: when he and Bond eventually engage in hand-to-hand, over the thermonuclear device that Christmas can’t pronounce, Renard is not inordinately stronger than Bond, nor does he “feel no pain,” as every time Bond kicks him, he goes, “Oouf!” and “Aargh!” (Bovver boy Begbie was more resilient than this guy!…)

To further the annoyance at wasting such an ominous personality on generic punching, when Bond gets the drop on Renard – he’s the one now talking instead of shooting! You’d think he’d learn from all the talky villains who’ve gotten the drop on him, but maybe he thinks this is how international espionage is done?

At just over 2 hours long, we start to feel it, as the movie wends its way around the Middle Eastern world, especially when machine guns are popping off and bombs are blowing up and no one is getting hit except bad guys, and the air around Bond and Christmas.

When Elektra asks M to protect her personally, we have to ask ourselves what M can do that ten skilled male agents can’t. The trap is so obvious, it’s only a matter of time before M finds herself in an easily-escapable cell. But then, it would seem every trap for Bond is never designed to kill him either, but to put off his death, as Renard strands Bond in an exploding mine and Elektra ties him to a torture chair. (Maybe these people need more religion – to become better killers.)

The last sequence finds Bond and Christmas trapped in a sinking sub. Can’t get more claustrophobic than that. Well, you can if Denise Richards is saying her lines at your face like a first-year acting student. Really, couldn’t they have switched the Christmas role with Maria Grazia Cucinotta instead?! Tits AND brains.

– – – – – SPOILERS – – – – –

There’s a new villain dynamic in THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH – The Bond Girl is also The Bond Villain. (No, I’m not saying Robert Carlyle is a girl, I’m saying Sophie Marceau is playing both sides of the bed.)

Elektra was kidnapped by Renard when young, and embraced his ideology (Stockholm Syndrome, meet Patty Hearst), so even though Renard is the mad bomber, Elektra is his mad funder; he’s the muscle, but she’s the megalomaniac tactician calling the shots, aiming to rule the world through Big Oil, which, as we know, is a much more criminal enterprise than a simple kidnapper-bomber.

As usual, movie ends with Bond eating Christmas for dinner.

END

Moulage of the Ripe Cheddar.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER: where characters we care not one whit for embark on a journey we have absolute zero interest in.

After two movies, author C.S. Lewis‘s epic saga of the magical Narnia universe is going nowhere fabulously fast. And by that I mean, director Michael Apted (THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH) has been taking lessons from George Lucas, by Making It Up As He Goes Along, and allowing CGI to tell the story that his inept actors cannot convey. Ironic that this third installment in the Narnia franchise is a travelogue, a road movie that stands still.

The magic has been completely lost. Two reasons: The dynamic of the four young children discovering a fantasy world is sorely missing, the two Elder Snobs (William Moseley and Anna Popplewell) only appearing in inane cameos, leaving the burden of screentime to their non-actor siblings, Edmund (Skandar Keynes, whose line reads are incredibly awesome for a block of wood) and Lucy (Georgie Henley, who continues to pout her lines like a Disney infant on Christmas Day, even though she’s now sporting chest buds). Oh yes, and now they have a Cousin Oliver* along for the ride (*the classic BRADY BUNCH gambit of introducing a younger child into the fray to retain the cuteness level due to the original cast growing old and bloated) – Will Poulter as their whining, sniveling cousin Eustace. Secondly, the awe and wonder of actually being in Narnia is also non-existent; these two Younger Snobs expect to be treated with obeisance now, not due to any feats of monarchy, but as a taken-for-granted condition, welcoming it as a kind of escapism from their dreary London existence in the Real World during WWII. Their hubris at landing back in Narnia (through a painting) and then being bowed to and fawned over fries my brain.

They meet Prince Caspian (Ben Barnes) helming the Dawn Treader sailing vessel, in search of some old guys with long swords and longer beards. He introduces them to his crew, “Edmund and Lucy – the high king and queen of Narnia.” Well, someone must be high, to believe those titles hold any credence…

This forgettable piece of CGI garbage, like its predecessors, is littered passim with Christ allegories, the most obvious being Aslan the Christ-y Lion, who appears intermittently to remind everyone how he works in mysterious ways. Liam Neeson voices Aslan, with as much verve as he played Qui Gon Jin, which means he phoned it in while playing with his Jar Jar Binks. At one point, Aslan appears in a mirror to Lucy – she looks at the room behind her, but he is not there, only in the mirror. Which means he’s some kind of anti-vampire. And if Aslan is anti-vampire, that can only mean one thing – he’s Taylor Lautner.

Director employs the tried-and-true B-Movie Directing Method of keeping the first take where no one flubs their lines. No characterization to speak of, everyone reading their sides dutifully and letting the special effects go to work for them. Only character fully fleshed-out is the mouse Reepicheep (Simon Pegg) – and he’s a special effect.

Every time the Dawn Treader docks, we brace ourselves for another pointless “adventure” that meanders nowhere and means nothing. Characters appear. Senselessly. (Example: if you haven’t seen the previous two movies, of what significance is Tilda Swinton’s ghostly appearance as the White Witch to tempt Edmund?)

Then magic happens. Over and over again. That last vestige of bad storytelling. Whenever you use magic in your story, the trick, so to speak, is to make it seem nonintrusive, organic; not like a deus ex machina, but something that has defined rules and limitations. In the NARNIA movies, like those execrable HARRY POTTER debacles, magic is used arbitrarily to drive the plot. It’s a contrivance, a convenience. Used, then ignored. But then, to a delusional christian fanatic like C.S. Lewis, Jesus is magic, so snap!

The captain mentions “sea serpents” and Edmund actually scoffs at him! Of course, in a land where animals talk and magic runs everything, there couldn’t possibly be sea serpents – that’s just crazy talk!

Then Eustace is turned into a dragon. By magic. Uh, okaaaay. Seeing as he whimpers about this plot point, we presume it was used to humble him… but if this brat was not humbled by all the evidence of magic and talking animals, what precludes him from becoming an even bigger arsehole when he acquires the mantle of a twenty-foot fire-breathing dragon?! Oh, these powerful demon-wings enabling me to fly and this breath that can immolate kingdoms is really making me feel small and insecure, and remorseful that I insulted everyone!… Who schooled C.S. Lewis on human nature – a minotaur?

After the boring climax fighting off that sea serpent that happened to be real, they all end up on the Island of Lost Toys or whatever and meet Aslan Lautner. As a perpetual tsunami kisses the shore but doesn’t break (like THE ABYSS), Neeson is now so freakin’ bored of playing this lion’s pixels that he’s making stuff up like, “I exist in your world as well, under a different name.” Hmm, let’s see: a guy who died and came back to life, a guy who lives in dark sanctuaries where your minions gather to eat your body and drink your blood, a mysterious being who can take many forms and appear in your dreams, a guy who can grant eternal life, yet a vengeful spirit who kills the good and evil alike without any discernment… Dude, in this world, are you Dracula?

END

Class with a capital L.

CLASS ACTION is an interesting twist on courtroom drama. It contains all the unrealistic courtroom shouting and eleventh-hour reveals, but our attention is more focused on the drama between the father and daughter attorneys on opposing sides of the case.

Gene Hackman is lawyer Jedediah Ward, representing a group of people in a class action lawsuit against a corporation. Opposing him is the corporation’s hired lawyer, Maggie Ward – his own daughter (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio).

It’s an intriguing dynamic because we are not sure who to root for: Maggie is young and demure, yet strong and principled, while Jed’s a seasoned alpha male ass, cynical and pragmatic; he’s a bull that won’t back down, and flashing that contemptuous Hackman leer. When Jed crushes Maggie at their first hearing (being prepared with motions and information two steps ahead of her, leaving her floundering and humiliated) we are predisposed to root for Maggie – but we are flustered when we remember she represents the corporation, an institution we have been conditioned to regard as intrinsically corrupt!

What to do, justice hounds?

Do we lean towards Jed because he’s Hackman; because he represents the “little guy” in a case against a corporation’s cars blowing up and killing people? Or do we support Maggie because she’s the underdog; because she needs to win a case against the brute lawyering of her father to step out from under his shadow?

He’s a philanderer, and the death of his wife – Maggie’s mother – makes him look even more cold-hearted, as Maggie cries and chastises him, with Jed making excuses for his affairs along the lines of “You don’t understand because you were too young!” Hackman dynamites another seemingly effortless nuanced role, Mastrantonio generally keeping up with him.

The case in CLASS ACTION is a sign of the times. Directed by Michael Apted, this 1991 movie came in that transitional period between the yuppie consumerism of the 80’s (with Gordon Gekko assuring us greed was, in fact, good) and the 90’s awareness that corporations and governments were in collusion to skin you alive. Corps were decidedly on their way out of America’s good graces.

So the emotional investment pendulum starts to swing the other way about halfway through the film. Aussie Colin Friels heads Maggie’s law firm – and he’s also doing Maggie kangaroo-style. Does it surprise us to discover he represented the corporation years ago in a cover-up of the faulty cars? And now he’s swung his lover onto the case in the hopes she will play ball and also do some covering up.

Fred Thompson is the corp CEO. In a chilling scene, he recounts a number-crunching, bottom-line statistic that shows even though their cars were prone to explode due to faulty circuitry, in the long run, the small percentage of explosions made it simply cheaper to deal with the lawsuits than fix the problem. Does it surprise us to discover he is Republican?

Jonathan Silverman is completely miscast as Maggie’s assistant, because he doesn’t get the chance to yell and trip over anything.

Discovering the CEO’s inhumanity is the first jolt, but when Maggie’s law firm offers her a partnership as a bribe, and starts arrogantly doing unethical things right before her eyes, her conscience lights up like a CEO on bonus day.

Instead of two lawyers working the angles on ambiguities in the law, suddenly it’s two opposing lawyers working towards real Justice.

We must ask ourselves, Though it serves this fiction and drama well, has a lawyer EVER had an attack of conscience, even when they know their client is guilty as a devil on All Hallow’s Eve? Isn’t there some wording about “zealously defending your client”?

Which makes this movie a “What If?” tale.

What If all lawyers followed their consciences like Maggie? They wouldn’t have the fish-smelling reputation they now have, and “white collar” criminals would not be buying themselves out of punishment.

Corporations will ALWAYS win against the “little guy” because their finances are limitless, hence influence on the outcome of cases presided over by judges they play golf with. Lady Justice is portrayed wearing a blindfold to indicate objectivity; that neither identity, race nor affluence should be an impediment in meting out Justice. We all know the blindfold covers her eyes to Justice itself. She’ll never see what modern lawyers have done to her baby…. Shyeh, What If?…

END