Mindhunters

Here's one from the archives. Happy Easter!
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You'll enjoy MINDHUNTERS if you don't know anything about physics, chemistry, biology, psychology, fluid dynamics, weaponscraft, law enforcement, military operations, or the actual FBI profiling program. If, in other words, you're a below-average student in a Bratislavan middle school, this movie's for you. MINDHUNTERS is one of those movies in which you tell yourself, "Okay, I choose to accept that this movie is set in a universe in which X could possibly happen." Then, you tell it to yourself again, and again, and again. This movie is so relentlessly, aggressively ridiculous that it's simply impossible to suspend one's disbelief.

Here's the setup: it's TEN LITTLE INDIANS with FBI agents on a spooky island. But there's a twist: where TEN LITTLE INDIANS is intriguing, MINDHUNTERS is insulting. Where TEN LITTLE INDIANS is gripping, MINDHUNTERS is loud. And where TEN LITTLE INDIANS has an ending that leaves you fascinated, amused, and not a little surprised, MINDHUNTERS has an ending that makes you want to hurl your DVD player against the wall in disgust.

Here's the worst part: the movie was foisted on me by a guy at work, a guy who loved it so much that he put his copy in my hands and insisted that I give it a spin. This afternoon, while we're waiting for the bus, he's going to ask me what I thought of it. I'm thinking of going with, "Wow! Nothing you said could have prepared me for this movie!" I don't know if I can sell the line.

PS On the plus side, the movie does have one kill that's so unexpected that it almost overcomes its utter implausibility. Additionally, MINDHUNTERS features the best anti-smoking sequence I've ever seen. So at least there's that.

Deja Vu

I liked DEJA VU well enough, but I never lost track of time and I never got swept away.

DEJA VU should be the kind of movie that I go for: a thriller with a science fiction twist. It has a clever script, a likeable cast, and a healthy respect for the laws physics (not that it lets those laws get in the way of the story, but it does at least tip its hat to them). It's script is of the type whose scientific genius, when calling for more power for his time-travel gizmo, shouts, "I'm gonna need more cowbell!" It stars the reliable Denzel Washington, who really needs to do a romantic comedy for a change, and noted time travelling veteran Jim Caviezel makes a fine, if rather one-dimensional, foil. Its understanding of the physical universe struck me as plausible, which is rare for a time-travel movie, but there's something about it ...

I never really bought Washington as an ATF agent with an expertise in explosives. I was ready to, but then the film uses him as the audience surrogate for the exposition about time-warping device. By forcing him to ask dumb questions and come off as anti-intellectual, the film makes him dumber than he could be and still do his job. Additionally, I never felt for the distressed damsel, a woman whose sole character trait appears to be that she looks good in underwear. Finally, the movie itself jumped and danced and exploded so much that it kept reminding me that it was a movie and not a portal into its particular sliver of space-time.

My God: what's happening to me? I'm digging movies about the Queen of England's bad week more than movies about stuff blowing up. Before I know it, I'll start listening to soft rock.