I Sat Through That? #6 - Planet of the Apes (2001)

In which Gerry Hayes dons a ‘Trading Places’ ape-suit and prepares for some musky monkey-loving.

Planet Of The Apes, 2001.

Directed by Tim Burton.
Starring Mark Wahlberg, Tim Roth, Helena Bonham Carter, Paul Giamatti, Michael Clarke Duncan and Estella Warren.
Special make-up and effects by Rick Baker.

Relax, nerds, it’s the remake. Take a puff on your inhalers and chill out. It’s ok to poke fun at this one because it’s awful.

Truly awful.

What passes for a plot goes as follows. Marky Mark is rugged space-adventurer, Leo Davidson. Well, I say ‘space-adventurer’, he’s really more of a zoo-keeper who just happens to be on a space station. He takes care of the monkeys (if he can call them monkeys in the film, I can happily ignore the fact that they’re chimps). For some, inexplicable, reason, when a swirly space-anomaly appears, it’s necessary to send a space-pod that’s actually piloted by a chimp. Technology doesn’t seem to have progressed to any form of automated or remotely-controlled flight - nah, the chimp’ll fly it.

When the chimp disappears into the swirly thing, Leo, ruggedly and adventurously, jumps into another of the chimp-pods and flies out to get him. But, horror of horrors, he disappears too (if only there’d been some clue). The swirly thing turns out to be some sort of wormhole-type affair and, unlike the original, it carries him through time and space to that Terrible Planet Of The Apes where, true to it’s name Leo encounters a number of grumpy simians.

In particular, Tim Roth, slathered in bacon, is actually quite enjoyable as the eeeviilll, career-soldier-chimp, Thade. He just has to snarl and shout a lot and it’s about the only bit of this film that I didn’t hate.

Bonham Carter gets monkeyed-up to play Ari, a wishy-washy liberal with crazy notions of human-rights (see what they did there - they’ve twisted it, you see?). Here, on the Terrible Planet Of The Apes, humans, despite being mostly buxom and beautiful, live wild in the jungles or are kept as slaves or pets.

Ari helps to free Leo and one of the aforementioned buxom, beautiful, savage humans - Estella Warren as Daena - from the awful clutches of the slave trader orang-utan, Limbo (Paul Giamatti). Awful clutches may be overstating things though as he seems to exist purely for buffoonery and cowardly comic-relief. He provides the former admirably.

So they escape, Leo becomes some sort of messiah and garners a woeful-looking mob of human freedom-fighters, all eager to have their heads bashed in in a final showdown between man and ape (and between Leo and Thade).

It’s all incredibly ridiculous in getting to this point and it’s all monstrously ridiculous during this point - especially the pan troglodytes ex machina that occurs. I won’t even touch on the ending which, even if you haven’t seen the film, you’ll likely have heard about.

Peppered through the film are in-jokes and references to the original. While I’ve no doubt that these were inserted to ‘honour’ the original in some way, for me, all they did was to highlight how the remake paled before what was, by comparison, a much better film. Being honest too, Charlton Heston’s small role in the remake annoyed me and I kept hearing ‘from my cold, dead hands’ all through that scene (possibly I’m betraying my own wishy-washy, liberal leanings now - perhaps Bonham Carter and I could have something).

Finally to Burton. I was originally quite excited to hear that he was remaking this. It seems, however, to have turned out as the least Burton-like film he’s made. The posters and DVD covers portray more of a Burtonesque atmosphere than the film actually contains. It’s usually easy to pick out one of his films - it would be much more difficult to identify this as his work without prior knowledge.

Nope, what this is, is a summer blockbuster - with all of the negative baggage that comes with that term. Apart from the astonishingly brilliant monkey make-up by the very talented Rick Baker (think of any brilliant example of the same and he’s probably done it), this is a hollow shell of a film with very little of import to say for itself.

Read more I Sat Through That? right here.

Gerry Hayes is a garret-dwelling writer subsisting on tea, beer and Flame-Grilled Steak flavour McCoy’s crisps. You can read about other stuff he doesn't like on his blog at http://stareintospace.com or you can have easy, bite-sized bits of him at http://twitter.com/gerryhayes

I Sat Through That? #5 - Castaway (2000)

In which Gerry Hayes rolls up his trouser-legs and paddles on the shores of FedEx Island...

Castaway, 2000.

Directed by Robert Zemeckis.
Starring Tom Hanks, Helen Hunt, A. Volleyball.
Written by William Broyles, Jr.

Astonishingly, the story goes that FedEx were reluctant to have their brand used in this film (didn’t like the idea that one of their planes might crash). Rumour has it they had to be persuaded to allow Hanks’ character work for FedEx and that they didn’t pay a penny for product-placement. Weird, huh? Why did the writer plump for FedEx? Why not just invent a fictional delivery company? Dunno. I do know, however, that there is no escaping FedEx in Castaway. I came out of the film wanting to ship something, anything, to anywhere. I miss those magazines, but I’m sure there’s a guy in Tuvalu who’s enjoying them as we speak.

But I digress.

Hanks plays Chuck Noland, an utterly joyless, jobsworth with a mild OCD. He’s infuriatingly preoccupied with time. He’s like the boss that stands over you as you fumble to finish a task saying, “it only took 192 seconds yesterday - what’s wrong with you?” Because of this, FedEx have given him a job where he flies around the world telling employees that they’re not quick enough. In short, he’s an arse.

But he’s about to learn a valuable lesson. Or something.

Storms... Plane off course, of course... Crash... And...

Just like that, he’s marooned on a desert island somewhere in the Pacific. It’s only a small island, mind. No pirates. No pygmies to worship him as a god. No differently-coloured chap to enslave and call after a weekday as you couldn’t be bothered to ask him his name. Nope. Just Chuck and a bundle of FedEx packages. He opens them all bar one - clinging to his jobsworth sensibilities to the end.

One of the packages contains Chuck’s new best friend, a volleyball called Wilson (a rather crappy gift for someone, FedExed by that godparent who never bothers showing up for birthdays). Chuck and Wilson’s relationship is a complex one. That Chuck loves Wilson is not in doubt but he does occasionally strike out at him - actually kicking him in the head at one stage. Afterwards, Chuck, invariably, holds Wilson, telling him he loves him and that it will never happen again. Be thankful there are no kids to see Chuck’s violence and Wilson’s shame.

Speaking of shame, although not fully explored in the film, I hope, at least, that Chuck turns Wilson’s face away when he performs his dirty, man-business; sitting in the dirt of his cave, squinting lustfully at crudely-rendered drawings of Helen Hunt touching herself. Wilson doesn’t need to see that.

Four years pass. Chuck gets skinny and beardy. One day, half a portable toilet washes up and, after poking it with his spear for a bit, Chuck realises he can use it as a sail on a raft and then he’s away. He ties some sticks together and he and Wilson are off to sea where, and this is the bit that really gets me, he apparently makes friends with a whale.

Really.

When Chuck’s asleep and Wilson bobs off into the ocean, the friendly whale squirts him with blowhole juice to wake him. The same thing happens when he’s asleep as the ship passes. More blowhole squirting. Friendly, frickin’, whales? Give me a break.

But it works. Chuck wakes up, is rescued and flown back to civilisation in a massive FedEx advert. Seriously, they didn’t pay for this? There are FedEx napkins. And mugs. Why would this be necessary if they weren’t paying? Why? It has no bearing on the plot? Why?

Anyway, while he was away, Chuck’s girlfriend, Helen Hunt, has had a haircut and got shacked up with some other bloke. Chuck has to be all noble and Casablanca about it and tell her to go back to her new family, even after she tells him “I always knew you were alive.” Personally, I’d have asked why she married someone else if that was the case, but maybe that’s just me.

It’s almost over but Chuck has one more thing to do. He needs to deliver the package he never opened. Wouldn’t you know, it’s a pretty girl at the address. We leave Chuck at a crossroads but it’s a metaphorical one as well as a literal one ‘cos it’s all deep ‘n’ stuff.

We never got to see what was in the last package but in my head, it was a survival kit and a satellite phone. Here’s hoping.

Read more I Sat Through That? right here.

Gerry Hayes is a garret-dwelling writer subsisting on tea, beer and Flame-Grilled Steak flavour McCoy’s crisps. You can read about other stuff he doesn't like on his blog at http://stareintospace.com or you can have easy, bite-sized bits of him at http://twitter.com/gerryhayes

I Sat Through That #4 - Meet The Parents (2000)

In which Gerry Hayes considers Meet The Parents and punches himself in the face again and again and again...

Meet The Parents, 2000.

Directed by Jay Roach.
Starring Ben Stiller, Robert De Niro, Teri Polo.
Screenplay by Greg Glienna.

Gah! Nooo! How can one film have so much bad in it? Please, why do you make me think about it? Why? What have I ever done to you? Please, no more. Oh, sweet mother of stinkers.

These are just some of the things that ran through my head on considering Meet The Parents. As frequently happens with these things, I may be in a minority - from the box-office takings and the sequel(s) it seems there are many people out there who like this film. I can only assume that a lot of day trips were organised from a lot of care-homes for the simple and bemused. I imagine them all, sitting in the dark, a trickle of drool hanging precariously from their chins as they beam vacantly at the screen, generally having a good time in their feeble-minded way. I imagine them and I want to kick each of them in the groin because it’s their fault there are films like this.

Stiller is Greg Focker or more accurately, as we so hilariously find out, Gaylord Focker - Gay Focker, get it? Oh, my sides, my sides! He’s going out with Pam (Polo) and is off to her sister’s wedding where he’ll get to meet her parents for the first time. A nerve-wracking experience to be sure and one rife with comedic potential. Amazing then, that this film fails, utterly, to find any.

De Niro plays Pam’s dad, Jack. What happened, Bobby? Christ. Watching De Niro do comedy is like watching your hero, someone you always looked up to, get drunk at a wedding and start groping strangers before getting in a fight, falling over and pissing themselves while muttering profanities at your mum from his puddle on the floor. I hate watching De Niro do comedy. He’s no good at it. Have we learned nothing from Analyse This? Gurning moronically is only funny if you’re doing it for a baby. Even then, you’re pushing it. Please stop, Bobby. Please stop the horror (for ‘horror’, read ‘comedy’).

Where were we? Right... Greg’s an imbecile and Jack is both a grumpy twat and a retired CIA operative (although touched on elsewhere, the latter is something that feels shoehorned in, mainly, to fit the "hysterical" scene where he subjects Greg to a polygraph test). Greg’s desperate to impress and Jack hates him - nothing wrong with the premise but there’s such a massive dearth of subtlety that all the laughs are dragged from the film and replaced with an empty, wincing embarrassment.

No subtlety. No realism. No humour.

Meet The Parents is an incongruous, doleful bundle of unamusing gags, crammed awkwardly together and tied up with sticky strings of tenuous plot. It makes me sad.

Read more I Sat Through That? right here.

Gerry Hayes is a garret-dwelling writer subsisting on tea, beer and Flame-Grilled Steak flavour McCoy’s crisps. You can read about other stuff he doesn't like on his blog at http://stareintospace.com or you can have easy, bite-sized bits of him at http://twitter.com/gerryhayes