Kill the Irishman

Biopics are an oddity for me in the film world.  On the one hand, there is something inherently fascinating with a life that is so large that it actually makes sense for it to be on the big screen.  And that's good.  On the other hand, most biopics play it loose with their pacing, typically relying on the life and death of the main character instead of imposing a dramatic arc to the story.  And that's bad.  I didn't realize that Kill the Irishman was a biopic at first --- shame on me for not reading the tagline --- I was just intrigued by a movie with a fairly big-name supporting cast.

Kill the Irishman is the story of Danny Greene (Ray Stevenson).  Danny started out as a lowly dock worker in Cleveland who happened to be a bit of a tough guy with a soft heart for his fellow poor Irish-Americans.  What should you do if you find yourself in a bit of trouble with the mob?  Interrupt Danny having sex and have him settle the dispute for you, obviously. 

Or...maybe wait fifteen minutes

Actually, that little bit doesn't play a major part in the film, but it felt so odd that I had to bring it up.  Danny strong arms (or face-slaps) his way to a union leader position on the docks, but is eventually ousted for illegal activities.  But you can't keep a good Irishman down, as he eventually works his back to power in another union, with the support of low-level mobster John Nardi (Vincent D'Onofrio). 

Mafia soldiers have to earn their neckties

Once he gets a taste of power and all the respect and happiness (and money) that brings, Danny starts his own Irish mob and acts as a low-level enforcer group.  Things get a little dicey when Danny borrows money from the New York mob to build a legitimate restaurant and the money never arrives; the courier is busted by police on drug charges.  The New York mob wants their money back, but Danny refuses to pay because he never received the money, so the title comes into play.  If you've ever seen a mobster movie before, you can guess the rest.  Hint: car bombs and gunfire play prominent roles in the third act of the film.

I haven't really seen much of Ray Stevenson's work, but he seems like a perfectly serviceable tough guy.  He appears tough, looks mean, and handles his lines capably.  Not outstanding work, but not bad.  Vincent D'Onofrio, on the other hand, took a fairly dull role and gave it some life.  If his part was written just a bit better, I would have really enjoyed his performance.  Similarly, Christopher Walken shows up as a money man and is amusing, as always; aside from speaking the line "Kill the Irishman," though, it's a pretty forgettable performance. 

"Insert movie title here"

 He's not the only one to basically tread water in his performance.  Val Kilmer does his best impression of a "before" photo for P90X as he plays a somewhat disinterested and slowly swelling police officer following Danny Greene's misdeeds.  The oddest part about Kilmer's role is that he provides occasional narration, implying that he is either supposed to know more or be more important than he actually is in this film.  Linda Cardenelli got to play Wife #1 for Greene; I like Cardenelli well enough, but this is just a cookie-cutter role that she adds nothing to. 

Biopic Wife #1, Phase 3: disenchantment and nagging, ahoy!

Vinnie Jones and Marcus Thomas round out the principal cast as Danny's somewhat nondescript underlings.  However, there are still an absolute ton of recognizable faces in this cast.  Paul Sorvino, Robert Davi, Tony Darrow, Steve Schirripa, Mike Starr and Tony Lo Bianco all play bit parts as mobsters in this film; that's not a stretch for any of them, given their collective mob movie history.  These guys provide bits of reassurance when you're watching --- maybe their performances are solid, or maybe the roles are such a comfortable fit for them --- so you don't actually mind that most of them are simply playing mobster stereotypes.  Why did so many movie mobsters decide to have bit roles in Kill the Irishman?  I don't know, but the film is better for their presence.

Kill the Irishman was directed and co-written by Jonathan Hensleigh.  The film is told in a coherent enough fashion, although you might expect a little more art if you've been spoiled by Coppola or Scorsese mob flicks.  My biggest gripe is that the story is so familiar.  I get it, this is based on a true story.  That doesn't mean that it has to be entirely predictable.  The script isn't even clever or filled with memorable characters, either; there is nothing about this story that stands out, aside from the main mobster being Irish.  Hell, I bet 40% of the script has stage directions for the actors to scowl.

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I will give credit where it is due, though.  While I admit that the sheer number of explosions in this film seem ridiculous, that particular period in Cleveland crime was rife with car bombs, so "A" for historical accuracy on that count.  I also liked seeing so many familiar faces playing mobsters in this movie; none of them were spectacular, but it looked like they were having fun overacting. 

Except Kilmer, who never appears to have fun in movies

Hensleigh doesn't do a bad job with Kill the Irishman, but he does turn out a mostly forgettable film.  The movie isn't worth watching for fancy direction or great acting, and the story is pretty basic stuff.  It could have been worse, but a story about a guy who takes on the mob could be so much better than this.

True Romance (Director's Cut)

Continuing with my mini-theme of romantic movies that I actually like, in honor of Valentine's Day, I bring you True Romance.  Directed by Tony Scott and one of Quentin Tarantino's first professional screenplays (I can never figure out if this came first, or Reservoir Dogs), True Romance is a blend of crime, action, Tarantino dialogue, and true love.  This film also boasts one of the all-time greatest supporting casts, with some of the most memorable scenes highlighting supporting characters that you will ever see.

Clarence (Christian Slater) works at a comic book store (awesome!) and, for his birthday, has decided to catch a triple feature of Sonny Chiba movies at a local theater (awesomer!).  While watching the movies, a busty blonde named Alabama (Patricia Arquette) comes in and spills her popcorn all over him.  Clarence is very gracious about the whole thing, possibly because of her cleavage, and the two strike up a conversation.  They end up getting some pie after the movie (awesomest!), which eventually leads back to Clarence's place for some sexy sexy time.  Of course, this isn't as perfect as it seems.  It turns out that Alabama is a call girl, hired by Clarence's boss to sleep with him as a birthday present.  Clarence doesn't mind at all, insisting that he had had the night of his life; the two abruptly declare their eternal love for each other and get married in the morning.  Aww.  The rest of the movie has the two getting to know each other and finding out that true romance means compromise.

The "crime" part of the story begins when Clarence chooses to confront Alabama's pimp, Drexl (Gary Oldman).  He doesn't really have a solid reason for this, it's just his inner alpha male (which is personified by an imaginary Elvis that gives him advice) needing to prove itself.  The short version of the story has Clarence killing Drexl and leaving with a suitcase of Alabama's clothes.  When he returns home and tells Alabama that he just killed Drexl, her response is "That's so...romantic!"  I guess Clarence married the right gal.  The suitcase he brought with didn't have his new wife's old clothes, though; it was filled with uncut cocaine.  Not knowing what to do with a suitcase of coke, Clarence and Alabama do the only sensible thing they can think of: they go to California to sell it to move stars.  Unfortunately, the late and unlamented Drexl was selling the drugs for the mob, and they are not as forgiving as you might think.

The first thing you notice about True Romance is the dialogue.  It still sounds fresh and funny today, but it really sticks out against the rest of 1993 Hollywood.  To put it in perspective, the nominees for Best Picture that year were The Fugitive, The Remains of the Day, The Piano, In the Name of the Father and Schindler's List, none of which were particularly renowned for their rapid-fire creative vulgarity.  And while you might recognize some echoes of Tarantino's dialogue from this movie in Pulp Fiction, it's still good stuff.

The script is definitely this film's strongest point, but the astonishing supporting cast is a close second.  This movie has so many recognizable actors in it, and most of them have surprisingly meaty roles.  Dennis Hopper and Christopher Walken share one of my all-time favorite scenes, and it's just the two of them talking.  Brad Pitt is hilarious as a worthless, pot-smoking roommate; he was actually offered the role of Clarence, but it conflicted with his filming schedule for Kalifornia --- he just picked Floyd, who originally had no lines, out of the script and ad-libbed all his stuff.  And Gary Oldman's performance as Drexl is so good that I usually watch it two or three times before continuing with the rest of the movie.  I don't know whose idea it was to make this pasty-white pimp pretend that he was a black man, but it's pretty damn funny; Oldman doesn't let his character become a joke, though, and turns out a frightening performance.

Just those four performances would be enough for most movies, but this film is overflowing with larger-than-life supporting characters.  Chris Penn and Tom Sizemore (before he was a train wreck) did a great job as detectives.  Bronson Pinchot and Saul Rubinek play obnoxious Hollywood types almost to the point of becoming caricatures, but they're still entertaining.  James Gandolfini has a good scene as (what else?) a mob enforcer.  Even the normally talentless Michael Rappaport looked good (because he was playing a talentless actor).  And then there are the bit parts!  Samuel L. Jackson has a brief but entertaining scene where he discusses the universal nature of oral sex, Val Kilmer plays Clarence's imaginary Elvis (whose face is never shown, thanks to some truly awful makeup), and a young Kevin Corrigan has a small non-speaking role, too.  On the whole, this supporting cast is good enough to star in three or four solid movies; all together with a clever script, True Romance is a movie that has no boring scenes, and every minute has an actor you recognize in it.

Of course, all that support would be worthless if the main actors are no good.  And, to be honest, half of them aren't great.  Patricia Arquette, while very white-trash hot in this movie, does not do a good job.  In fact, I would argue that she sounds like she has some sort of mild retardation.  For some reason, her character is given a voice-over at the beginning and end of the movie, too, and they're not great either, even with a good script.  Christian Slater, though, does deliver his lines well, giving Clarence a cocky, roguish attitude that matches the tone of the picture perfectly.

Tony Scott directed this movie, but it was before his work in Enemy of the State, so it doesn't have all the 360-degree, fast-motion establishing shots that his last decade of films have had.  Instead, he plays it pretty simple and lets the script do most of the work.  Nobody's monologue is interrupted by unnecessary camera cuts, there are no fancy split-screens or anything like that.  Aside from some particularly violent fights scenes, Scott doesn't really take the opportunity to show off, and the film is better for it.  I disagree with giving Alabama bookend voice-overs, but that's a small price to pay.  Really, aside from a better soundtrack, I don't see how this movie could be improved by having Tarantino direct it himself.

This is a fast-paced crime movie with lots of overly-clever vulgar dialogue. If that's not your thing, then catch a Katherine Heigl movie instead.  This is the first time (and only time, so far) a Tarantino script had anything resembling an actual romance in it, and while pretty unconventional, it works.  There is no point in the movie where I wondered why these two characters were together, and that adds a lot of heart to the mix.  This isn't your typical romantic comedy, but Clarence and Alabama's unquestioning, immediate, and confident love for each other is unusually refreshing.  It's simple and untroubled, and that's perfectly fine in a movie like this.  Even with Arquette's mentally challenged performance, True Romance remains one of my favorite films of the 1990s, and one of the few that deserve ten stars.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

I don't often say this.  It actually hurts me to type this.  Nicolas Cage is totally over-the-top overacting in Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans, and he is super-awesome because of it.  Ugh.  I think I need a shower now, I feel so dirty.


Rarely does a film's quality rest so heavily on one actor, but this movie (oddly enough, not a sequel of any kind to the 1992 Harvey Keitel vehicle, Bad Lieutenant) is completely dependent on Cage.  Sure, the supporting cast here is pretty solid, but that's just icing on the cake.  Fairuza Balk shows up for a few minutes and plays against type by not being a goth chick for once.  Eva Mendes plays Cage's junkie hooker girlfriend about as well as you would expect her to (she's pretty and can memorize lines).  Alvin Joiner (AKA rapper Xzibit) does a better than average job as a scary drug lord, but I think the real revelation for him is why he needed a rap pseudonym in the first place.  Isn't "Alvin" tough enough?  I find it hard to believe that misspelling something that belongs in a museum is much tougher than a rascally chipmunk.  Tom Bower is fine as Cage's AA-bound father, but it's his beer-swilling wife that is the surprise.  Jennifer Coolidge (Stifler's mom in the American Pie movies) makes a surprisingly unglamorous appearance as Cage's step-mom; she actually turns in a pretty good dramatic performance here, but my immediate reaction was to how appropriately haggard she looks.  Val Kilmer has a small but key supporting role and, miraculously, does it well and doesn't try to out-overact Cage.

All that is inconsequential, though.  This is the story of Terence McDonagh (Nic Cage), a police officer in New Orleans.  The movie takes place shortly after Hurricane Katrina, although it doesn't mention the disaster much after the first scene.  That first scene is important for two reasons, though.  First, it explains why this New Orleans movie is not about Mardi Gras.  Second, McDonagh hurts his back in this scene and the result is a permanent injury that even McDonagh's doctor admits will not be completely helped by pain medication.  That serves as the justification for this character to seek out any relief he can from the pain, be it drugs (marijuana, cocaine, heroin, and crack), sex (with his hooker girlfriend or a civilian in lieu of arrest), or gambling (often and poorly). In the middle of all this vice, there is a homicide case that McDonagh is supposed to be solving.  The funny thing about this cop movie is that the case is really secondary to the character.  As a viewer, you are never really drawn into the details of the crime because McDonagh treats it like a job, not an obsession (rare in movie cops).  This film shows McDonagh doing absolutely everything wrong until the walls all start closing in on him.  He doesn't stop, mind you.  His mounting gambling debts are starting to creep into his professional life, his addictions have caused him to act in ways that get Internal Affairs actively interested in taking his badge, he has opted to sell information to drug dealers that are willing to kill him, and his vice-sharing girlfriend decides to clean up her life and stop using drugs.  The only question is what will be the first part of his life to ruin him?

Now, that sounds like a really depressing movie, but it's not.  Sure, the back injury can be seen as a justification for McDonaugh's actions, but this film never makes excuses for his behavior.  As such, this is not a story with a moral, and that makes all the difference.  Instead, director Werner Herzog must have asked Nic Cage if he wanted to pretend to be out-of-his-mind-crazy on film for two hours.  Never one to turn down the opportunity to overact, Cage obliged.  It's a good thing he did, too, because Cage is a treat here.  He's weird, though.  He walks around with a hunched back throughout the film.  He throws out some truly bizarre laughs out of nowhere.  He makes you think that Johnny Depp should have studied him for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, THAT'S how drugged up Cage acts.  Cage's performance isn't seen through his own druggy lens, though; instead of seeing how McDonaugh sees the world while high, we see how high the world sees McDonaugh.  Well, that's true for most of the movie.  There is a scene where Herzog allows Cage's drug use to subtly affect how he interprets a TV broadcast.  There's another, less subtle scene where Cage hallucinates iguanas and the camera assumes the point of view of an iguana for about two minutes.  Regardless of the point of view, Cage turns in one of the best performances of his career and

It's difficult to describe an actor acting high without sounding like you should have been an extra in Dazed and Confused.  Imagine The Shield if Michael Chiklis was in-orbit-high.  That's the best parallel for this film that I can draw for you.  There's a lot of gritty crime stuff going wrong and McDonaugh is obviously crazy and deserves to be jailed for his many, many indiscretions, but then you see a moment that shows what an awesome police officer he is.  Or another moment that shows how horrifying it can be to have someone this twisted in a position of power.  Those moments are what make this film hang together.  There's a scene toward the end of the film where Val Kilmer's character shows that he might actually be, in some ways, worse than Cage as an officer of the law.  You'll notice that the movie poster doesn't include "The" in the title; it looks like a clue that, as bad as Cage's character is, he's not the bad lieutenant.  He's just one of many.