Bovie Movie

When his army unit was ambushed during the first Gulf War, Sergeant Raymond Shaw saved his fellow soldiers just as his commanding officer, then-Captain Ben Marco, was knocked unconscious. Brokering the incident for political capital, Shaw eventually becomes a vice-presidential nominee, while Marco is haunted by dreams of what happened — or didn’t happen — in Kuwait. As Marco (now a Major) investigates, the story begins to unravel, to the point where he questions if it happened at all. Is it possible the entire unit was kidnapped and brainwashed to believe Shaw is a war hero as part of a plot to seize the White House? Some very powerful people at Manchurian Global corporation appear desperate to stop him from finding out.

Denzel Washington and Annette Bening play rival agents in this muddled thriller that can’t decide whether it’s a political message movie or a macho-fuelled patriotic action adventure. Islamic terrorists are attacking New York and different law-enforcement agencies are competing to deal with the violent outbreak that’s putting civilians at risk. Listlessly directed by Edward Zwick and curiously understated in key plot areas, it is, however, lifted by the sterling and dynamic performances of Washington and Bening. 

This affecting drama was the first major Hollywood movie about Aids, and it won Tom Hanks his (deserved) first best actor Oscar. Hanks plays homosexual lawyer Andrew Beckett, who takes his powerful employers to court for sacking him after they discover he is suffering from an Aids-related illness. The company bigwigs (including Jason Robards in a reptilian portrayal of intolerance thinly masked by bluff camaraderie) claim he was dismissed for incompetence. Beckett’s counsel is wheeler-dealer Joe Miller (Denzel Washington), whose own homophobia is counter-balanced by his nose for a good case and essential sense of fair play. Hanks portrays the ravaged, dying Beckett as a disabled everyman whose life has lessons for all of us, but does not disconnect the character from his cause. His crescendo of praise for an opera aria is a tour de force of close-up acting and a stunning scene of life-affirming passion. 

A run-of-the-mill story is here turned into an above-average thriller, thanks to impressive central performances from Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie as two very different cops who team up to track down a serial killer. Washington plays a decorated police officer now confined to his bed after an accident at work left him virtually paralysed. Jolie’s the young rookie who’s brought in to explore the deepest, darkest areas of Manhattan under his instruction as they follow the trail of a sadistic murderer who picks up his victims in a yellow taxi. Although the daft conclusion abandons all the logic painstakingly established in the previous scenes, the movie benefits from Phillip Noyce’s fast-paced direction and sterling performances from Queen Latifah as Washington’s nurse and Michael Rooker as his irascible superior. It’s also proof, as if it were needed, of Washington’s acting talent — especially considering he spends the whole movie immobile. 

Arguably the edgiest and most pessimistic release from a major Hollywood studio since Fight Club, this is a powerful anti-buddy movie set on the mean streets of LA. Looking to join an elite narcotics squad, rookie cop Jake Hoyt (Ethan Hawke) is teamed with the unit’s swaggering, streetwise commander Sergeant Alonzo Harris (the Oscar-winning Denzel Washington) for an educational 24 hours during which he will be expected to prove his mettle. But Harris is a seasoned veteran who doesn’t play by anything even resembling the rules and, as it soon transpires, doesn’t just enforce the law but considers himself above it. Directed with style and snap by Antoine Fuqua (whose empty-headed Replacement Killers did not suggest such storytelling assurance) and anchored by highly credible characterisations from its two stars, this striking thriller paints a dark-hued portrait of LA law enforcement. Although it’s disappointing that the script finally succumbs to a clutch of cop clichés, this doesn’t blunt the effect of persuasive work from all concerned. 

This is a convoluted Omen-esque chiller from the director of Primal Fear, Gregory Hoblit. Denzel Washington gives a strong central performance as a Manhattan homicide detective pursuing a supernatural serial killer. The initial development of the tale is intriguing, with seemingly disparate strands of information gradually combining into the discovery of a vengeful ancient god. But the atmosphere is only fitfully scary because of writer/producer Nicholas Kazan’s loose-ended, pretentiously unresolved script. While the best sequence has the evil spirit transferred by simple touch around police headquarters, it’s the shock Revelations-inspired climax that makes the biggest impression — for being so outrageously daft. 

Director Spike Lee returns to form after the ill-conceived She Hate Me with this smart and emotionally complex thriller. One of his strongest films in recent years, it combines a slick heist movie with a subtle exploration of post 9/11 society. Denzel Washington is sharply charismatic as a police hostage negotiator called in after Clive Owen’s criminal crew lays siege to a Manhattan bank. What begins as a routine scenario suddenly becomes a powder keg of corruption and intrigue, as a shady power broker (Jodie Foster) arrives to cut an independent deal with the robbers on behalf of the bank’s chairman. The subsequent cat-and-mouse game has the character-driven punch of Dog Day Afternoon, but with a dynamic visual and structural style that intensifies the twisting drama. Lee handles the material shrewdly, balancing tension with dark humour. However, it’s his succinct commentary on racial prejudice and preconceptions that gives this sophisticated picture its distinctive edge. 

Spike Lee suffers under the weight of his own ambition here, trying to cram his film with so many ideas (the nature of obsession, the avoidance of reality, the conflict between art and life) that it comes unglued at an early stage, especially as there’s not enough plot to shore it up. Yet Denzel Washington, as a single-minded trumpeter, gingerly steps over the cracks to provide plenty of powerful scenes. He is helped by Wesley Snipes and Lee himself, who have their own striking moments, and the lack of coherence is offset by vigorous, stylish camerawork and a killer jazz score. 

Denzel Washington gives a typically powerful performance in this action drama as blue-collar worker John Q Archibald, a decent man struggling to make ends meet. His hours have been cut at work, his car’s just been repossessed and then his young son, Michael (Daniel E Smith), collapses after a game of baseball. Rushing Michael to the hospital, John and his wife are informed by smarmy surgeon James Woods that their son needs a heart transplant or he’ll die. But John can’t afford the $250,000 operation and his insurance won’t cover it. The answer? He takes the entire hospital emergency room hostage and demands treatment for his son. Unfortunately, it is then that the clichéd characters flood in like victims of an epidemic — the emotionally remote hospital manager (Anne Heche), the by-the-book hostage negotiator (Robert Duvall) and the trigger-happy cop (Ray Liotta) — and seriously undermine the dramatic tension. Director Nick Cassavetes raises the plot to an almost credible level, but what makes this actually work is Washington’s fiercely committed performance as a man at the end of his tether.