16 Blocks

Richard Donner died Monday at the age of 91. I don't do obituaries, but I've seen every movie Donner ever made—with the exception (drat!) of one. He started in television directing episodes of your favorite television series if you're in your 60's, 50's or 40's, starting in 1960—with "Zane Grey Theater" up through "Kojak" and "Bronk" in 1975. One of those episodes is an all-time favorite of "The Twilight Zone" is "Nightmare at 20,000 feet" starring a peripatetic William Shatner. He dabbled in movie-programmers until making his mark with 1976's The Omen, which caught the attention of the producers of Superman—the film he's most known for (along with the "Lethal Weapon" series). He is probably the "godfather" of the current glut of superhero movies, not only from Superman, but also shepherding the "X-Men" series for his production company, run with his wife Lauren Shuler Donner.

This is the only review I have of his considerable work (a capsule from a couple web-sites ago) and it contains a summation of his work—"seems completely incapable of placing his camera in any place but the best position to convey action and meaning." Just so. When I've found "that one film" I'll, of course, do a "Now I've Seen Everything" write-up.

16 Blocks (Richard Donner 2006) An odd, efficient little thriller about a broken down cop who gets the bad assignment of driving a police whistle-blower sixteen blocks to the courthouse to testify before the Grand Jury about police corruption. But first he has to run a gauntlet of New York's less-than-finest who all could be sent to the pokey if the kid talks. And after hearing Mos Def's high-pitched, cleft-pallet-patter-way of talking, you start feeling some sympathy for their thinking, too. Cop and whistle-blower have two things in their favor: a populace more suspicious of the police than those running from them, and director Richard Donner, who, though he may have problems with pacing, seems completely incapable of placing his camera in any place but the best position to convey action and meaning, no matter how claustrophobic the surroundings. Bruce Willis is the reliably unreliable cop drinking to retirement, who finds one last thing to fight for, although his persona tends to shift a bit from barely functioning to resembling an older John McClane without a sign of shakes as he draws down on a colleague. Willis is fine, though, as is David Morse as the crooked cop with the most to lose. Of the two endings shot, the one attached to the film is the most "blue sky," and it's not really satisfying. The better down-beat ending, unfortunately, depends on a character turning when he's shown no previous sign of doing so. Neither one works completely, but at least the "Happy" ending strains credulity a bit less. Over all, not bad, really.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)

Written at the time of the film's video release...

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Garth Jennings, 2005) On first impression (and that was in the majestic Cinerama Theater for a matinee) the big budget movie version of Douglas Adams' radio play/novel came off as hurried and a bit slip-shod. One wanted it to run at half-speed to appreciate the jokes (that we'd heard, seen and read a hundred times before) in this new context, but no, the little punks who'd made this were so comfortable with the material, and so comfortable with our knowledge of it, that they felt they could just rush it on by willy-nilly, and expect us to catch up despite the fact that we were carrying the deluxe popcorn with two drinks and a box-candy for later, maybe.

But revisiting it now on video, one has to say..."Yeah, nice job spiffing it up a bit." Of course, all it may take for you to like it might be the inclusion of your favorite bit from the radio play/book/mini-series (in which case, I was satisfied--they included the sperm-whale bit, which I always thought was a fine, cheerful/melancholic distillation of life), and since it's a very breezy encapsulation (see first graph) odds are you might feel the loss of a passage or three. Still it's a nice forest, even if a few of your favorite trees have been culled.

What's good? Generally, the cast, with Martin Freeman's "Dent, Arthur Dent" being a wonderfully down-played version of the character--the TV version with Simon Jones (the original Arthur--he has a fine cameo in the new movie) being a bit more Pythonesque (everything's a bit more Pythonesque in the TV series version)--Mos Def, a more off-center Ford Prefect, Bill Nighy a great Slartibartfast, Helen Mirren as "Deep Thought," Alan Rickman as the downcast robot Marvin, and Stephen Fry as the Voice of the Guide. 

The stand-out is Sam Rockwell who plays Galaxy President Zaphod Beeblebrox as W. with accelerated ADD (and isn't that a terrifying concept), and one has to admit that the filmmakers came up with a nifty solution for the two-head problem (Zaphod has them) that has plagued past productions. And you couldn't ask for a better beginning to the film.*

All well and good.

Zooey Deschanel is a bit creepy as Tricia/Trillian (but then, she'd have to be),** and there's an extended segment with John Malkovich which might have gone under the knife to include a couple more Guide entries, and the ending's a bit neat and tidy for an Adams adaptation, but really, I can't complain (except for that last bit), and the advanced design by Jennings and CGI-wizardry-gone-bizarre are full of little surprises right to the last jump of the Improbability Drive. 

Cheerful and friendly, while chirping about dark, dark things,
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a nice addition to the ever-expanding Library of all-things-Adams.

Now if they'd just do "Restaurant at the End of the Universe."

*

 

** Ya know, reading that, I just don't think I was used to the kind of unique performer Deschanel is and after years of watching her work, a recent reviewing made me appreciate what she did in the film.