Hey folks, count your blessings, it seems the old man is 'winded'. I tell ya it's a delayed reaction to all that fun he's been having with his cloned minions of Rebecca Gayheart and Betty White. Hey... he's old... he's eccentric... and... well, that's all the excuses I'm making for Moriarty...
Hey, Head Geek...
"Moriarty" here.
I'm desperately afraid to look at my power bill right
now. I think The Moriarty Labs is running on full
capacity right now, with several major experiments in
the works at once. Starting Wednesday and running
through Friday, I'm going to be running a batch of
interviews with the principals from Dreamworks'
brilliant AMERICAN BEAUTY. You can expect Thora
Birch, Mena Suvari, and Wes Bentley tomorrow, Kevin
Spacey and Annette Bening on Thursday, and the gifted
and gracious Sam Mendes on Friday. The film opens on
Wednesday in New York and Los Angeles and everyone
else gets it for the weekend. I'm excited about the
conversations we had about the film, and I hope you'll
all enjoy them.
Right now, I've got Santana's SUPERNATURAL cranked,
and I find myself playing track five over and over
again. I can't help myself. Maybe it's the number of
times I've seen the "Smooth" video now, maybe it's
that insanely catchy chorus... at any rate, this song
should be classified a Schedule I controlled
substance. It's helping me relax enough to shoot off
what may stand as one of the shortest RUMBLINGS ever,
just a few pointed thoughts and observations.
I spent the weekend with Bob Zmuda's book that I
mentioned last week, both hurrying through it and
trying to savor every word. It's a wonderful read,
and it's my favorite portrait of Andy Kaufman offered
so far. Zmuda seems very happy with Jim Carrey in the
book, with the actor contributing a backword that has
to be held up to a mirror to be read. The book
manages to be funny, sad, and angry without ever once
being anything less than fascinating. Along with the
recent MR. MIKE by Dennis Perrin, a scathingly funny
look at the regrettably short life of Michael O'
Donoghue, this book is invaluable not just as a look
at someone's life, but also as a collection of their
work. There's Kaufman material in this book that I've
never heard before, that I suspect has been private to
Zmuda all the way up till now. There's genius at
every turn, with some inspired private material like
fake arguments between Zmuda and Kaufman on airplanes,
or the first appearance of Tony Clifton, or the real
truth about that notorious FRIDAYS appearance. The
descriptions of the bits are surprisingly free of
self-congratulations. Zmuda is confident the stuff
was funny, and doesn't have to over-explain it. Since
I also finally saw the MAN ON THE MOON trailer this
weekend, I'm really dying to see the film now. Jim
has caught some of the most amazing nuances of Andy in
just the initial footage we're seeing. Only Forman
can drop this particular ball, and I don't see that
one happening. I'm also anxious to hear REM's first
full length film score. I've been a fan of these guys
since I knew them as a local band in Georgia (where we
were hiding the Labs during the '80s), and I think it
should be rewarding to hear them take this next step
as musicians. Hope, anyway.
I've also finally seen the trailer for Universal's THE
BONE COLLECTOR, a film I saw and didn't really think
enough of to review. I can't believe how much venom
that trailer drew out of me, though. I thought I was
indifferent to the picture. I mean, both Angelina
Jolie and Denzel Washington do credible work, bringing
as much movie star charisma as they can to bear on
this rather slight adaptation of Jeffrey Deaver's
already-wafer-thin novel. Jolie, in particular,
brings a strange balance of strength and vulnerability
to her role. She's an action hero just waiting for a
strong vehicle (*cough* TOMB RAIDER *cough*) to
showcase her. Denzel could be electric reading the
phone book. Even with the addition of the can't-miss,
always-brilliant Luis Guzman (seriously... one of my
favorite guys working right now... makes me smile
every single time I see him), the earthy presence of
Queen Latifah, and the ever-intense Michael Rooker,
all the fireworks the cast generates can't cover that
this is a limp, lifeless piece of work from one end to
the other. There's not a single bit of genuine
suspense generated by the script, and there's not a
real note of human interaction in the cookie-cutter
script. Phillip Noyce continues fearlessly on his
quest to prove that he barely knows one end of the
camera from the other, and he isn't afraid to bore the
audience senseless here, a bold choice that may not
fully pay off. If you can't guess the identity of the
film's killer within the first fifteen minutes of the
movie, you probably haven't ever, EVER seen a
Hollywood thriller. This makes dreck like KISS THE
GIRLS seem fresh and innovative.
Now, this is going to take a moment to work its way
back around to serial killer thrillers, but follow me
on this. As I write about BONE COLLECTOR and
everything that's wrong with it, I am reminded that
this past weekend, Sylvester Stallone made some rather
revealing comments about how he feels in the context
of the marketplace right now. He's bitter about what
happened after COP LAND, angry about Harvey Weinstein
trying to force him to do a RAMBO 4 even after
promising to work Sly into different types of films,
and hurt over being treated like "driftwood" in town.
I wonder how much of this is due to his first look at
THE OUTPOST. I had several henchmen who saw the film
this week, and I have yet to hear anything that would
even indicate the film is salvageable. Still, all of
them said it didn't seem to be Stallone's fault, that
he seemed to be giving it everything he had. So what
is Stallone supposed to do? Run back to ROCKY 6?
Make more formula pictures and hope something clicks?
Here's where we get back to thrillers. You see,
Stallone's attached to one that could break the mold
and be something genuinely special. It's character
driven, it's smart, it's scary in places, and the
ending is one of uncompromised darkness. It's the
kind of film that NIGHTHAWKS almost is, a grim police
thriller that depends on the people more than the
pyrotechnics. It's more like SE7EN than anything
Sly's ever done, more LA CONFIDENTIAL than COBRA.
It's called SUSPECT ZERO, and the draft I read by Zak
Penn is a killer... pun intended.
There's two characters here of equal power, and if
Stallone has the balls to play O'Ryan, he could open
another chapter in his career. The film's arguable
lead is actually an Agent Mackelway, a new guy trying
to make his bones at the FBI who stumbles across
something at the scene of a murder that proves that
the victim was actually a serial killer. Only
Mackelway seems concerned with finding out how the
monster ended up dead, and his efforts seem to uncover
someone who is killing the killers, hunting the
hunters, and shutting down some of the worst predators
working. The shadowy vigilante, O'Ryan, is a
fascinating character, the kind of supporting turn
that would allow an actor to look amazing.
I don't actually know which role Stallone's attached
to. I also can't vouch for the current shape of the
script, which may be under rewrites by none other than
Ben Affleck (?!), but I'm going to dig further into
this one. If it's handled properly by Universal, this
is the perfect sister piece to their in-development
adaptation of Thomas Harris' HANNIBAL. Speaking of
which, I hope that whatever Harris' new ending to the
film is that was trumpeted so loudly last week manages
to shock and inflame audiences as successfully as the
book did, but in a whole new way.
Keeping in the spirit of edgy performance humor, I'd
like to take a moment to make special note of one of
the best performances I've seen recently. It was by
director Spike Jonze, who is also fantastic in the
upcoming THREE KINGS. It wasn't in a film that he
gave this performance, though... it was during last
week's otherwise-painful MTV Music Video Awards.
During the entire night, Spike stayed in character as
"Richard," the choreographer of the Torrence Dance
Group and co-director of Fatboy Slim's "Praise You"
video. This guy continues to amaze me with his
incredible wit and inventiveness, and I'm dying to see
BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, which is riding some outstanding
buzz post-Venice.
I hope you've all read the FIGHT CLUB report that went
up today here by our spy, the Bosnian Witch Doctor.
It's a cogent, well-written advance look at the film
I've been babbling about to any and everyone within
earshot for weeks now, and it is in such stark
contrast to Alexander Walker's shockingly conservative
attack on the film that Harry linked to that it has to
excite the curiousity of any reader. How can two
people be so far apart on such a volatile film? How
in the hell is it going to hit general audiences? And
is the film going to set off an even more intense
storm of controversy than this year's earlier poster
boy for Hollywood reform, THE MATRIX?
I say hell, yes. I also say that it's all going to be
for the wrong reasons. When you read Walker's review,
it's about him more than it's about the movie. He's
read so much into the imagery of the film, projected
so many intentions onto Fincher, that the review
actually just reveals much of what makes the critic
tick. I think that's going to happen a lot. FIGHT
CLUB the novel and FIGHT CLUB the script are blank
slates on which one must draw their own complex moral
reactions. If the film manages to pull the same trick
off, then you're going to learn a lot about the inner
lives of critics as the reviews roll in.
If you're interested in what the author of the book
thinks about the movie and about the notion that there
are real fight clubs starting to pop up around the
country, then go to www.latimes.com and run a search
for FIGHT CLUB. Click on the article called "I Made
Most Of It Up, Honest" by Chuck Palahniuk, and enjoy a
taste of one of the most distinct and honest voices in
modern fiction. I reread the book last week, and I
recently devoured his second novel SURVIVOR. Now I'm
dying to get my hands on INVISIBLE MONSTERS, because
this guy speaks to me on a very primal level. He's
rapidly racing up to join John Irving, Paul Theroux,
David Gerrold, and Neal Stephenson as a favorite
working author. I say we should all sit back and
enjoy the firestorm of controversy that is about to
erupt. It's going to be highly, highly entertaining,
both inside the theater and out.
And with that, I am afraid I must let you go. I feel
remiss... we've barely begun to chat... but this week
demands it. Watch for the interviews, and we'll talk
again Tuesday. Until then...
"Moriarty" out.
|
