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Two
films that are all about the actors and the heat they
generate are playing in town. One is about a
postapocalyptic society, titled Babylon A.D. The
title is loaded, as it conjures something biblical, and
indeed the film has something to do with stories in the
mighty book. The film, which is based on the novel of
Maurice G. Dantec, has the feel and the punch of a
graphic novel. In the end, one asks for the relevance of
the title. What has this action film got to do with
ancient cities? And what has ancient cities got to do
with the coming of a twin savior? Ah, but that is
getting ahead of the story.
Babylon A.D.
has nothing to do with a story. True, there is a story
and it is about this man named Toorop. He is a mercenary
whose services are secured by a group of nuns belonging
to a monastery run by Neolites out in the harsh hidden
rock formations of Mongolia. His mission is to bring
this young woman from Russia (or Mongolia, if we follow
the tale) to the US. In this journey he is accompanied
by a nun named Rebeka. Somewhere out there in the United
States of America awaits a woman who we learn later to
be a high priestess of some sort.
In
between Toorop and Rebeka is the young woman whose
nervousness seems to be the index of her power to see
the grim future, as in the form of a bomb exploding
nearby and her being able to escape from it. She can
also tell the real nature of two caged tigers, the
realization of which leads her to discover her real
nature. Or being.
When
Toorop finds out about his task, he opens a post-Google
map that can be easily manipulated to give someone the
best direction and the excellent route to take. Over the
icy Bering Strait and into the boundaries of Northern
America, Toorop, along with the storytellers, plays the
drama out like an educational tour from one city to
another. Give and take some submarines breaking forth
from the ice and tons and tons of explosions and
shooting.
Incredible as the plot may seem, the film does work. The
secret of the film is in the actors. When the face of
Charlotte Rampling comes onscreen, it screams: serious.
Or at least, she stops you at your tracks just when you
are about to dismiss the film. High Priestess or High
Camp, Rampling is always a pleasant actor in any film.
That voice and those cheekbones and the memories they
bring. They are many, with Night Porter high up on the
list. Remember her as the partner of Dirk Bogarde in a
tango of seduction and pain and S&M?
Then
there’s Michelle Yeoh, the Malaysian-born actress who
saved the Mameha role in the ditzy and misdirected film
adaptation of Memoirs of a Geisha. She always looks
tough and always looks lovely. Yeoh is one Asian actress
who can mix stunts with sensuality and, here in this
action film, she manages to kick some ass and with such
compelling credibility. When Yeoh’s Rebeka assures
Toorop she can defend herself, we cannot help but smile
because we know she can. You know, like a crouching
tiger and hidden dragon. Add to these two women the
Gorsky of a Gerard Depardieu, the middle man in the deal
that spans continents, and you have a film that cannot
be ignored.
Now, who
can survive the burden and of Rampling and Yeoh?
Mellanie Thiery as Aurora, the young girl whose genetic
makeup is being questioned, sadly vanishes in the forces
of these actors. Only Vin Diesel survives. Vin Diesel is
the secret ingredient behind Toorop. He is big and the
drone in his voice actually makes his dialogue a tribute
to the big-time goons of the Golden Age of Hollywood. He
is mafia and monster altogether but with the hint that
at the end, he may show his good nature. That said, the
filmmakers are disgusted about how the whole film was
cut to a length that does not make sense anymore.
Babylon A.D.
is directed by Matthieu Kassovitz (Gothika), who also
wrote the screenplay with Joseph Simas.
A
different kind of burden/baggage is in the film
Righteous Kill. The name of the baggage is Al Pacino
and Robert DeNiro. In the absence of big stars now in
Hollywood, these two are the real deal, the big deal.
Thus, you don’t watch Righteous Kill for the
story but for the actors.
The
story is hackneyed enough. Turk and Rooster (yes, those
are their names) are long-time partners in the homicide
division of NYPD. The two are facing a big case of what
looks like a serial killer annihilating criminals who
share one thing in common: they all have escaped
persecution. They have gotten away with all kinds of
heinous crimes. The story’s hook: the killer leaves a
four-line poem at the scene of the crime. That is as far
as the plot can be to be entrancing.
The
righteousness of Righteous Kill, of course, is
not in its plot or the message of comeuppance for any
criminal. It is in the casting of two enduring actors
known for immortalizing specific scenes. Between the
two—Pacino and De Niro—is a trivia’s delight and a
collector’s treasure chest of cinematic moments. They
have inspired actors, delighted critics. They have been
copied, parodied, spoofed.
The
celebration for the film came very much before its
screening, long before critics were almost unanimous in
noting how the film was so dreary not in atmosphere but
in pacing. We do not really care. To see the two actors
enjoy themselves is a reason for joy enough.
Robert
DeNiro and Al Pacino remind us that they are still the
actors to reckon with when it comes to long closeups.
Interestingly, the two actors noted for roles that were
big appear to compete in underacting. The result is a
performance that perhaps will not be enjoyed by fans who
expect the two to upstage each other. For others,
though, the two actors provide a way for us to
understand that character or the building of such in a
film is not only created by the director in the instance
of a particular film. Something leaps out of the screen
or one’s place in a darkened movie theater and into the
bigger net of the collective images of big stars like
Pacino or DeNiro. The film can be a mediator but
memory—of a fan or that produced by media—is the real
instigator of reactions and responses.
As with
the Babylon A.D., there are victims also in
Righteous Kill. A major victim is John Leguizamo.
This actor is always riveting, but that’s because I
tried hard to look and look again. After all, there is
Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino at the center hotly
surviving a tepid narrative.
Jon
Avnet directs from the screenplay of Russell Gewirtz.
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