Bovie Movie

In this action romp par excellence, each overblown set piece becomes ever more ludicrous — implausibility is, after all, a large part of the entertainment here. The basic buddy-buddy situation is a familiar one, but Mel Gibson, as the loose-cannon detective whose disregard for danger reaches new heights when he investigates a drugs ring, and Danny Glover, as his by-the-book, ever-fretful partner, bring a great deal of spirit and fun to the mindless mayhem. The chalk-and-cheese chemistry of the two leads was so popular that three further sequels were made over the next ten years. 

Terry Gilliam (Brazil, Twelve Monkeys, The Fisher King) directed this colorful, stylized, pseudo-psychedelic $21-million adaptation of the 1971 Hunter S. Thompson classic, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey into the Heart of the American Dream, about stoned sportswriter Raoul Duke, Thompson’s alter ego, on a wild drug-crazed road trip, a paranoid plummet into the belly of the beast, with his pal, lawyer Oscar Zeta Acosta. Originally serialized in Rolling Stone (November 1971), the book catapulted Thompson headfirst toward the Kerouac-Mailer-Capote pantheon and jump-started the entire movement of “gonzo journalism.” Carrying a suitcase of drugs, Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp with shaved pate) and his attorney Dr. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro) drive a red convertible across the Mojave from L.A. to Vegas, where Duke has an assignment to cover the Mint 400 desert motorcycle race. As the drugs kick in, Duke ventures into voiceover, filling in the blank spots and narrative gaps. “This is not a good town for psychedelic drugs,” says Duke, but even so, they consume vast quantities, eventually escalating to ether. Duke notes that with ether “you can actually watch yourself behaving this terrible way, but you can’t control it.” The two trash their hotel room, and Gonzo goes back to L.A. Thinking the hotel room holocaust will lead to an arrest, Duke begins a drive back to L.A., but after an odd encounter with a highway patrolman (Gary Busey) and a telephone conversation with Gonzo, he returns to Vegas to cover the District Attorney Convention on Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs in the glitzy Flamingo Hotel. This time the drugged-out duo trash their Flamingo room. The crazed carnival atmosphere segues into a carney casino, Bazooko’s Circus, where a barker (Penn Jillette) spiels amid aerialists, clowns, and a rotating carousel bar. Gonzo worries over runaway teen Lucy (Christina Ricci), who paints portraits of Barbra Streisand. Soon the hallucinations begin: Duke sees Gonzo transmogrify into a demon with breasts on its back, and an acid vision of a Vegas bar features large legit lounge lizards (courtesy of monster makeup man Rob Bottin). Flashbacks depicting Duke’s intro to the drug scene jump back to love-Haight relationships in San Francisco’s Summer of Love. Cameos and guest stars include Mark Harmon, Cameron Diaz, Flea, Lyle Lovett, Harry Dean Stanton, Ellen Barkin, Tobey Maguire, and Hunter S. Thompson himself. The film features a Geffen Records soundtrack mixing rock of the period with Vegas lounge tunes. Over the years, various script adaptations came and went as did numerous talents; people connected with past efforts to film Thompson’s book include Martin Scorsese, Jack Nicholson, Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, and writer-director Alex Cox. Shown in competition at the 1998 Cannes Film Festival.

After a string of routine action thrillers, Steven Seagal hit the jackpot with this slick nautical spin on the Die Hard concept. Portraying possibly the unlikeliest cook in the history of cinema, Seagal is the US Navy’s only hope when a crack squad of terrorists, led by Tommy Lee Jones, hijacks his ship. Seagal may lack natural charisma, but a flamboyant performance from Jones, plus some sterling work from fellow baddies Gary Busey and Colm Meaney, more than compensate for his deficiencies. Former Baywatch babe Erika Eleniak has little to do but pop out of a cake and scream a lot, but provides the requisite slice of glamour. Like Seagal, director Andrew Davis earned his spurs with mainly straight-to-video fodder, but here he never misses a beat and stages some awesome set pieces. 

Tom Canboro is a police detective with a Christian sister, Eileen, a brother, Calvin, a wife, Susan, and eccentric brother-in-law, Jason. One night, Jason seemingly goes insane and tries to kill Eileen, calling her a “hater”. Tom soon realises this may be a conspiracy going as far as devil worship, but as he speeds in his car to get help, he suddenly looses control and crashes. Waking up in a strange hospital, he finds years have passed and people all over the world are wearing the mark of 666 on their right hands, and all those who don’t are being killed off. Franco Macalusso, the believer in world peace Jason was fond of, now controls the world, and is trying to bring the world together as it was at the tower of Babel. Meanwhile, the “Haters” or Christians are hiding out and airing TBN tapes on the air for people to realise the Messiah is really the Antichrist, but their leader, Helen Hannah, is arrested…

You go for years without seeing a movie about skydiving and then suddenly, like buses, two of them come along at the same time — this and the Charlie Sheen vehicle Terminal Velocity. This is the pick of the pair: an exhilarating ride directed by action specialist John Badham with his usual flair and eye for spectacular set pieces. Wesley Snipes exudes charisma as the US marshal who sets out to hunt down the parachuting crooks whose airborne antics cost Snipes’s brother his life. Gary Busey delivers another entertainingly villainous performance, while Yancy Butler is equally good as Snipes’s reluctant partner. 

Shane goes to outer space in this depressingly unoriginal slice of science fiction from Event Horizon director Paul Anderson. A near monosyllabic Kurt Russell plays the brainwashed army killing machine dumped on a garbage planet when a newer DNA manipulated model is developed. There he finds a forgotten outpost of stranded humans who adopt him as their warrior saviour when Jason Scott Lee’s genetically enhanced battalion arrives for practice manoeuvres. There’s hardly an original bone in its body, despite the screenplay from Blade Runner’s) David Webb Peoples, and Anderson trots out familiar clichés against a tired postapocalyptic backdrop. It’s a by-the-numbers empty spectacle with zero emotional engagement, lots of mindless slam-bang action and heaps of unintentional laughs.