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BZ Uster (T.Fertek) Summer 2003

Bad Boys 2

Kevin O'Sullivan, Daily Mirror

YOU may recall Will Smith and Martin Lawrence's first
movie Bad Film. Well, eight years on, our heroes are
back with their extraordinarily long sequel, Bad Film 2.
If it wasn't so damn noisy this tedious pile of juvenile
rubbish would send you straight to sleep. It's not easy to
make an action movie boring. But - full marks to Will,
Mart and director Michael Bay in a production that is as
deafeningly loud as it is dismally dull - they've pulled it
off.

Boasting a frightening lack of originality, Bad Film 2 will only be remembered for one thing -
the creation of a whole new cinematic genre. At two hours and 20 minutes, this is the first of
the action epics. Presumably, it's for people who would have liked Lawrence Of Arabia if
only David Lean had used more ear-bursting explosions.
Why is this outmoded buddy movie so lengthy? Mainly because every wafer-thin joke is
repeated time and time again while the bang, bang car chase scenes are so indistinguishable
that at least half of them are glaringly unnecessary.
Early on, Lawrence's irritating whinger of a character Marcus Burnett is "hilariously"
engulfed in a sudden tidal wave when his dog accidentally pulls his garden swimming pool to
bits.
Clearly the producers considered this slice of old fashioned, custard pie-style slapstick so
unbelievably funny that they did exactly the same thing all over again. I didn't laugh twice.
But at least Smith's wisecracking alter ego Mike Lowery is able to deliver the beautifully
scripted one-liner, "That ain't no pool - dass a big-arsed puddle wrapped in plastic."
Similarly, there's an absurd pursuit across one of Miami's long bridges during which vehicles
spill off a hijacked car carrier and career into oncoming traffic.
Later we endure precisely the same stunt, only this time it's a mortuary van and dead bodies
are piling onto the road as horrified drivers fail to avoid a series of gruesome collisions.
Meanwhile, the hundred or so gun fights feature gung ho Mike relishing the conflict, and
quivering Marcus desperately pleading for the bullets to stop. Again, it isn't that funny the
first time. But by the fiftieth repetition it's down right infuriating.
And here's a real rib tickler. When the less than dynamic duo sing, "Bad boys, bad boys -
what you gonna do when they come for you?" they always forget the lyrics. Side-splitting
stuff.
The plot - such as it is - centres on evil Cuban drugs boss Johnny Tapia (Jordi Molla), whose
cartel is involved in the strange business of smuggling huge amounts of Ecstasy out of
Havana and into Miami. Quite why these cartoon villains don't manufacture their illegal
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narcotics in Florida and save themselves the trouble of crossing heavily-policed international
borders is never explained.
But the pathetically derivative story is only there to provide a feeble framework to showcase
the allegedly witty repartee between two murderous idiots who couldn't hand out a parking
ticket without shooting someone.
WHEN they are firing their weapons (ie, most of the time) they prefer to do so sideways
while leaping through the air.
Then low-ranking police officer Smith climbs into his brand new £250,000 Ferrari while his
moaning chum slopes off to his plush waterside mansion. Unfortunately, one of the few
people this disastrous double act don't kill is their ridiculous boss Captain Howard - the long-
suffering police chief who, yawn, has the Mayor on his back.
This type of hard-pressed character has featured in every cop movie since Dirty Harry. But
boy does Joe Pantoliano milk it for all it's worth. Give that man the Overactor Of The Year
award.
There's also a boring romantic sideshow in which Marcus doesn't like his drugs agent sister
Syd (Gabrielle Union) falling in love with his violent fool of a partner Mike. And, talking of
stereotypes, terrifying Tapia goes around picking his gold teeth saying Latino things like,
"Zeees eees zeee feeefth time I tell you - I weeel keeeell you..."
After Johnny kidnaps stunning Syd, Marcus, Mike and half the Miami police force take an
official American helicopter and invade Cuba.
There they blow Tapia's palatial new residence to pieces and slaughter a sizeable section of
Castro's army before rescuing Syd and smashing through the fence of Cuba's US Naval base
enclave Guantanamo Bay, home of the internationally renowned Camp X-Ray.
All terribly realistic.
The 14-year-old lads at whom Bad Boys 2 is aimed will lose interest at about the 90 minute
mark.
For everyone else, make that 90 seconds.
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BZ Uster (T.Fertek) Summer 2003

KILL BILL: VOLUME ONE

Cert: 18, 110mins

ABSURDLY violent, lurid, vulgar, trashy, full of

disgraceful swearing - and without doubt one of the
greatest films I've ever seen.
Quentin Tarantino's startlingly brilliant tour de force
had me on the edge of my seat from gory start to
bloodsoaked finish.

I laughed, I groaned, I was sickened - but never for a nanosecond was I remotely bored. In
fact, I was riveted, mesmerised and utterly captivated by an extraordinary movie from - in my
opinion - the best director in the world.
Only a handful of the film makers are fit to inhabit the same universe as an undoubted
cinematic colossus who has risen to the very top of his profession after just four movies.
And following the astonishing athleticism of the mistress of cool Uma Thurman, I never want
to hear another word about that silly girlie Lara Croft - aka the unconvincing action heroine
Angelina Jolie.
Sorry to gush. But if you have to watch as many lousy productions as I do it's simply
exhilarating when you encounter a work of genius. And Kill Bill is at least that. Who else but
Tarantino would have the confidence to deliver nearly two hours of non-stop action without
ever explaining what on Earth it's all about?
And who but Tarantino could make a plot-free saga of blood and gore absolutely gripping?
No one, that's who.
The only wafer-thin excuse for a story is that Uma Thurman's yellow tracksuited woman
warrior has embarked on a crazed mission of revenge - a dish which she believes is best
served cold. Hilariously, we don't even find out this female fighting machine's name.
She is dubbed Black Mamba, a victim who was left for dead when members of the mysterious
Deadly Viper Assassination Squad slaughtered everyone at her Texas wedding.
Or at least they think they did.
Nine others are killed, but while Bill's bullet turns Uma into a blood-spattered bride, she
miraculously survives. She will be avenged. And I'll tell you one thing. Don't, whatever you
do, mess with her.
The guy who sells her broken body for semi-necrophiliac sex while she's in a coma comes to
regret his less than salubrious sideline when, by way of punishment, a door is slammed
repeatedly on his head. Until he's dead.
Then the disgusting predator about to do the dirty deed also gets his just desserts as the
suddenly conscious Ms Thurman rises up and inflicts her own form of instant justice - by
biting out his tongue.
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Meanwhile, former Viper Squad karate queen Vernita Green (Vivica A Fox) is charmingly
knifed through the heart in front of her little four-year-old daughter.
And don't talk about the Crazy 88 - so named because they're crazy and there are 88 of them.
In one spellbinding scene called Showdown At The House Of Blue Leaves, Uma scythes her
samurai sword through every single one of them. That's right - one woman defeats nearly 90
men. And how!
At the end of 20 terrific minutes of murderous martial arts, the victor surveys a scene of pure
carnage (there are legs, arms and heads all over the place) and announces to the few
grievously wounded survivors that if they can crawl away they will be spared.
"But leave the limbs you lost," she purrs. "They belong to me now."
The real object of her mission to Japan, as she explains to the sword maker of Okinawa, is "to
kill vermin".
And that spells bad news for O-Ren Ishi, the equally ruthless female Mob boss whose method
of running Tokyo's crime gangs with a rod of iron features instant decapitation for all
dissenters. Nicknamed Cottonmouth, O-Ren is played by a Lucy Liu struggling to recover
from the nightmare of the useless Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle.
In Quentin's remarkably capable hands, Ms Liu's career gets back on track just in time for her
fearsome final confrontation with the Black Mamba. Cottonmouth's shocking life story is told
via a vivid 10-minute cartoon in which she sees her parents hacked to pieces before seeking
out the perpetrators and stabbing them into oblivion.
LIKE the real-life sequences, the explicit animation is full of volcanic spurts of blood erupting
from screaming people writhing in agony.
I know it sounds awful. But, trust me, it's quite the reverse. This is Tarantino's ambitious
homage to all those cheap and uncheerful kung fu films he watched incessantly as a movie-
obsessed geek working in a Californian video store.
Elle Driver - the stunning one-eyed contract killer played by Daryl Hannah - enjoys only the
briefest of appearances, as does Michael Madsen's evil exterminator Sidewinder.
And we still haven't even seen kung fu legend David Carradine's all-powerful Bill. But we
will in Kill Bill: Volume Two.
And my guess is that Uma will, indeed, kill all of them. I can't wait. I cannot recommend this
amazing film highly enough. Unless you're planning to take the kids!