Get Carter (2000) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski)
|The Robbins Recipe: The Limey meets the original Get Carter|
|I have to love a movie where my main man Mickey Rourke plays ... me! Yup, the Mickster is Uncle Sleazy, the internet celebrity nudity baron. I was kinda hoping that I would be played by Pierce Brosnan or George Clooney, but I guess it could have been worse. At least it wasn't Pauly Shore or Crispin Glover, and I got to kick the shit out of Rocky Balboa himself.||
|Speaking of punching, this movie took a
lot of hits from the critics, and with good reason. It
absolutely stinks. On the other hand, the critics seemed
to save some special savagery for Stallone, and he
doesn't do so badly at all. In fact, in the scenes where
he shows paternal concern for his niece, he was pretty
genuine. Stallone didn't write and direct this crap. What
more could he have done? More to the point, what could
any other actor have done better with this material? You
think Derek Jacobi could have made this a winning
portrayal? You think DeNiro or Pacino could have spun it,
like Rumplestiltskin, into Oscar gold? Forget it. Brando
in his prime or Olivier or Welles would have sucked very
bit as deep as this. OK, he was Stallone, and a lot of
people don't like him, but he was OK.
Stallone plays a mob enforcer who comes to his brother's funeral after a drunken driving accident in Seattle, only to find out that his brother and niece were involved in some very shady goings-on with some rauncy characters in the seamy underbelly of Seattle life, and that little brother was probably killed. So Sly decides to find out why, and who, and kick butt, and take no prisoners.
Luckily for him, Seattle is a progressive place which has decided to do without law enforcement officers, allowing Sly to commit several murders in public, as well as to burst into a party being thrown by the world's richest man (Alan Cumming), drag him out by his collar, and make him spill his guts in the forest. Needless to say, there are no bodyguards to protect him, none of the guests tries to interfere when a bloody thug drags their host out of the party, nobody follows them. Mind you now, this guy is modeled after Bill Gates. Now if Gates were to buy an island and declare himself a sovereign nation, he would be one of the richer ones in the world, so try to imagine Stallone invading - let's say Norway, for example - flying in, bursting past all the customs guys at the airport with his guns blazing, getting in a cab, driving to the palace, bulling his way into the throne room, grabbing His Majesty, dragging him out of the palace, throwing him in the cab, driving out to the forest, and roughing him up. Actually, that would probably be easier than what he did here.
But that wasn't the worst part of the film. In fact that was the best part, because at least in the last twenty minutes of the film something happened, even if it was completely absurd. In the first 80 minutes, it wasn't an action picture at all, but a serious family drama filled with slow, slow, slow exposition.
But that still wasn't the worst part. It was artistically pretentious. The director used all of that pseudo-Soderbergh technique copied from The Limey. Examples:
Using techniques like that was fresh when Soderbergh did it in The Limey. But Soderbergh, like Fincher and Tarantino before him, is going to inspire a legion of copycats, and this is essentially one of them. A bad one.
They gave this director $40 million to make a movie when his previous career highlight was writing The Mod Squad. Were they really surprised when it stunk?
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