| HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE |
 2003 - USADirector:
Ron Shelton - Reviewed by Vickie
Oh, how wrong I was. Compared to this cinematic piece of poo, 2 Fast is practically Oscar-worthy. I left the screening of Hollywood Homicide STUNNED. It was horrible! Astoundingly awful! Were it not for my eternal-optimist mother, who was with me and whose wistful notions that "it might get better" are likely still bouncing off the theater walls, I would have walked out. By minute 20 I was desperate to leave. But no, I stayed. And here’s what I saw: Grumpy, grouchy curmudgeon Harrison Ford plays grumpy, grouchy, curmudgeon L.A. cop Joe Gavilan, who works the beat and sells real estate on the side... which provides a shockingly tiresome running joke throughout the film. Joe’s young partner is K.C. Calden (Josh Hartnett, who was clearly trying unsuccessfully to channel Keanu Reeves), a would-be actor who catches criminals and teaches yoga on the side. He’s all about finding his "center," but I just kept praying he’d find the closing credits and yank them onscreen to end my misery. The woefully wooden and chemistry-free Gavilan and Calden are investigating the shooting deaths of the members of a promising new hip-hop group. The lead suspect is the P. Diddy-esque head of the group’s record label (Isaiah Washington), who wants to make sure his artists know that leaving his fold will end very, very badly. Whatever. No one cares. There are assorted uninteresting subplots involving Calden’s dream of performing "A Streetcar Named Desire," Gavilan’s efforts to sell the home of a legendary producer (Martin Landau) to a rapper (Master P), and a smarmy police official (Bruce Greenwood) with some kind of vendetta against both cops. Again, who cares? Both Ford and Hartnett squeeze out performances that border on stillborn. Ford, especially, furrows his brow and skulks around like someone forced him to do this movie against his will. I kind of hope that’s the case, actually, because otherwise it means he voluntarily participated in this dreadful exercise. Lena Olin and Lolita Davidovich pop in and out of the story occasionally as the token women in a male-dominated movie, and Olin has a cringe-worthy love scene with Ford that was clearly inserted into the film to tell audiences: Hey! Harrison Ford is still a hottie who can make the ladies squeal! I beg to differ. Ultimately, Hollywood Homicide is a movie that tries to be a comedy and an action flick, but is actually neither. It wants so badly to be the next Lethal Weapon or Rush Hour or any other cop/buddy picture that’s achieved a degree of success, but it doesn’t even come close. Plot twists are foreshadowed WAAAAY in advance, "surprises" are anything but and the two leads have zero chemistry with each other or anyone else. What Hollywood Homicide did manage to do successfully, though, is waste two hours of my life that I will never, ever get back again. And, for that, I remain bitter. Does it show? |
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