Every other word was an expletive, the sex scenes were uncomfortable (I know, they're supposed to be), drugs were rampant, stereotyping was beyond the norm, and I would've left 30 minutes in if not for my reviews on my web page.
I'm not saying the acting was terrible, because Lequizamo, Sorvino, Brody, Espisito et. al, performed well. But... : Almost every character in the film I despised. Not since the Bonfire of the Vanities have I hoped that every character on screen would be killed, maimed or otherwise harmed in a violent manner.
Spike and cast repeat the mantra that "this film is not about David Berkowitz," the mass murderer who terrorized New York City in 1977. I tell you what, my bologna has a first name, it's S-P-I-K-E. Why then does he feel the need to show us the murders and the constant scenes of Berkowitz going nuts in his apartment talking to a dog? And the hysteria didn't drive these guys into a rage, they were already headed down that road and had pulled off the Crazy Exit for a bathroom break.
Oh, and Spike, you make a horribly awful, don't-deserve-to-be-in-Traverse City, Mich. news reporter.
There is a setpiece within the movie that is done to the who's "Baba O'Riley" which isn't too bad. It was at that instant that I became convinced that Spike has enough talent to make music videos or snazzy Nike commercials but, as a filmmaker he is simply medicocre.
"Do the Right Thing" was an excellent film. And, because he was limited to facts, "Malcom X" was a fine production. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that Lee has very little to say as a filmmaker, that virtually everything he does is a variation of a theme--one he more then adequately explored in "Do the Right Thing".
Why he felt the need to make this film will remain one of the summer's great mysteries. Certainly that summer of '77 remains a worthy topic for a skilled filmmaker. And, if Lee had told the story in a straighforward manner a la "The Silence of the Lambs" or "Manhunter", the source material would be guaranteed to chill.
Howeve, Spike's apparent need to examine Italian-American culture in every other film is growing just a bit tedious at this point, especially when you are totally incapable of offering any new insights or worthwhile observations. Spike is like a CD stuck on the Racial Grievance track, and boy, is it getting old.
Where another director might have explored this hysteria of that summer with the calm eye of "The Ox Bow Incident" Lee is intent on making sure everyone knows what he knows. If these italian Neanderthals are capable of turning on each other in a moment of crisis, just imagine what they would be willing to do to a person of color.
Unlike Jeff, I wasn't phased by the drug use... that WAS so much a part of the time... completely realistic. However, if I ever see one more sex scene filmed by Spike Lee, it will have me feeling the equivalent of Alex after his re-programming at the end of "A Clockwork Orange". I'm not sure that Spike wanted us to feel uncomfortable here. There was actually much unintended laughter in the theatre during moments I'm sure Spike did not intend to be funny. But, one had to laugh because they were so ludicrous.
Why Spike feels it necessary to throw in a totally idiotic sequence at Platos Retreat is just part of his method... totally clog up the screen with gloop regardless of it's merit. Watching any sex scene in a Spike Lee Joint requires a shower afterwards.
He rails against the prejudice of not showing black lovemaking, but, then he proceeds to virtually sabatoge the act for people of all colors thru his bizarre ineptitude. The cast was first-rate. I feel sorry for these actors who continue to line up for Spike, thinking maybe he will hit again. Adrian Brody and Jennifer Esposito stole the film, as much as it could be stolen. That THIS was the same gal who is the secretary on "Spin City" just about sent me reeling. Bebe Neuwirth is always good, and Lequizamo was as good as he could be in a thanklessly, terribly written role. Mira was certainly better then the material.
I will never again be suckered in by a Spike Lee joint. He always has great DPs, but that's where it begins and ends anymore. That mindnumbing, over-orchestrated melodramatic that music fills up every one of his pictures is a perfect metaphor for the vapid, visionless drivel that he now only seems capable of. And, his stint as the TV reporter was as embarrassing as anything I have ever seen.
There was a wonderful film that came out a few years back called "Lumiere and Company". It was a French documentary in which the Lumiere Brothers' original motion picture camera was given to 40 film makers around the world, and each was asked to make a 52 second film, since that was the camera's capacity at the time.
An amazing array of directors took part including John Boorman, David Lynch, Costas-Gavras, Peter Greenaway, Patrice Leconte, CLaude Lelouch, Arthur Penn, Wim Wenders and so on. It really taxed the creativity of those involved... to realize a coherent vision in less than a minute. Many of th efilmamkers were pedestrian, but, some were incredibly breathtaking and marvelous. David Lynch's was frightening and dreamlike evocative. Alain Corneau's was hypnotic and marvelous. Andrei Konchalovsky's was dramatically mythical.
Spike Lee's film was of his daughter staring at the camera for 55 seconds. As if anyone needed any further proof of the stories he has left to tell, or his ability to tell one.
(Added in another post):
Believe it or not, there was one thing I forgot to mention that really bugged me about this film... two things really.
First off Adrian Brody is presented as a character who is a total WHO freak who is becoming infatuated with the punk movement. As that perfectly describes me at that point in time, I feel more then confident in expressing my complete contempt and amazement for Spike Lee disdaining any historical veracity whatsoever by having Adrian and Jennifer bond over there discovery and love for The Who's "Who's Next" album, whose music plays a prominent part in the film. Wonderful, but, for the albumcame out six years before this film takes place.
But, as remarkable as The Who were, that they are the catalyst for Adrian's turn to punk, rather then the Ramones, Television or Richard Hell and the Voidoids in NYC or The Sex Pistols, The Clash or The Buzzcocks in the UK truly boggles the mind.
But, as historically oblivious as Spike's film truly is, the THING I can't get over is this. Because od Adrian's infatuation with The Who and th epunk scene (incrongruous as that concept is), he affects an accent which drives the Ities in the neighborhood nuts. Why are you talking with a British accent they ask time and time again.
Only, Adrian is NOT speaking with an English accent, he is talking with an Aussie accent!!! Now what the fuck is THAT all about. Many people try an Aussie accent and end up doing a Pom accent, but, NOBODY does an ocker accent by accident, cause it's too hard to nail.
Now, what I wanna know is, was this an inside joke on the film's part. Was this a gag on Brody's part? Lord knows he spent several months in Queensland making "The Thin Red Line" so he had enough time to monkey a pretty fair ocker dialect. But, did Spike even know? Did he care? Did ANYBODY know or care? Was this Brody's gag, or is he the first guy to ever assume an Aussie accent is the same as a Brit? Was he the first guy to ever TRY a brit accent and end up Aussie? Christ, what a mess.
The music and the accent are just typical of what a careless freakshow this entire film is.