Beyond Hypothermia

BEYOND HYPOTHERMIA is a bad, bad film.

Wu Chien-lien is an assassin who falls in love, wants to change, but must complete one … last … job. Ching Wan Lau is the love interest. Complications ensue. Which is fine, really, and has served as a rough outline for films ranging from ghastly (NAKED WEAPON) to serviceable (BANGKOK DANGEROUS) to pretty doggone good (SO CLOSE). A movie like this isn’t about the setup. It’s about the delivery.

The delivery here is all wrong. BEYOND HYPOTHERMIA gives us no reason to care about its assassin (Sorry, honey. Being good looking just isn’t enough when you kill people for a living.), its love interest (Buddy, you’ve got to know when to fold ‘em.), or especially its poncy villain (complete with silly hair) who is supposed to provide the suspense and danger. The dialogue is stilted, the photography and editing elementary at best, and the stuntwork uninspired. Though this film was a product of the 1990s glory years of Hong Kong action, it lacks the style and creativity that mark the period.

When a film fails to engage us on any level, when it doesn’t tell an interesting story or give us interesting characters or even look particularly good, there’s only one word to describe it. That word is horrible.

That word applies to BEYOND HYPOTHERMIA. What a waste.

Underworld

I'm not UNDERWORLD's target audience, really. I'm not a gun, leather, or goth fetishist. In my action pictures, I like to know who's shooting whom, and why. And I hate having to constantly adjust the volume on my headphones so I can hear the dialogue one minute without blasting out my eardrums through gunfire and explosion the next. But I liked it anyway.

I mean, c'mon, Bill Nighy and Michael Sheen hamming it up in a vampires vs. werewolves movie? Y'know, the kind of movie in which everyone has machine guns but the big battles are all hand to hand? The kind where the bad guy is named Kraven and everyone's a fashion model who spends a minimum of three hours in the gym every single day? How can that not, at least at some level, speak to you? What, you don't like wirework? You don't like contact lenses? You don't like extremely loud and extremely bad rock music? You must like it when the good guy gets thrown through a wall and falls to a puddle below, and the masonry that hits the water with him floats. No? What's wrong with you?

Well, I thought it was silly fun, just the thing to pass the time while stuck in an airport lounge waiting for the weather to clear. Sometimes, that's all that's required.

The Wrestler

Darren Aronofsky doesn’t make bad movies.

PI, the feature that brought him to my attention, was odd and engaging and unforgettable. REQUIEM FOR A DREAM, his followup, ranks among the best movies I never want to see again. THE FOUNTAIN is one of only two DVDs I purchased that year.

THE WRESTLER, Aronofsky’s latest, does everything that movies are supposed to do. It introduces me to people and places that exist entirely outside of my experience and makes me care about them. Then it builds on that foundation to tell me a story that captures my imagination even as it breaks my heart.

In the film, Mickey Rourke plays “Ram” Robinson, a ‘roided out wrestling superstar who is well past his prime. Ram’s a decent guy, and he loves wrestling. But what do you do when the thing you love falls out of love with you?

This material could be an after school special or a DTV movie, but Aronofsky uses it to meditate on love and mortality and even honor, in a way. He evokes memorable and truthful performances, and his empathy for his people and their lives resonates with us well after the credits roll. In this director, we’re encountering a serious talent, a guy whose movies are worth seeking out. THE WRESTLER is a fine addition to his resume, and I recommend it without reservation.