Spy Lame
Chris Rock and Anthony Hopkins make a less-than-dynamic duo in
"Bad Company," the latest in the Bruckheimer line of inert action movies.
Despite becoming one of the most successful and profitable producers in
Hollywood, Jerry Bruckheimer has never ceased to consider himself something of a
rogue of the “establishment.” On more than one occasion he has likened himself
to a kind of maverick with his George-Dubya-style populist blustering that he
doesn’t care what critics think of his films- after all, he’s making them for
the real filmgoer, the real American- the person who thinks that Gosford Park is
a kind of beer.
Despite this noxious self-actualization, Bruckheimer actually comes off as
rather straight-laced and, well, let’s be honest, more than a little square. I
mean, let’s get real- you can count the good films the man has made in his 20+
year career on just one hand and every single one of his films follows that
moth-eaten story template that is handed out at every single writing seminar and
workshop I’ve seen: in the first act you send the hero up a tree, in the second
you throw rocks at him, and in the third you bring him back down. The problem
with Bruckheimer is that all of his movies use the same rocks- and the same
damned tree.
But how Bruckheimer can consider himself innovative, or even creative, when
masters like Steven Soderbergh and David Fincher are around involves a
Superman-style act of self-delusion. Take a moment from Bad Company for example.
Within the first ten minutes we meet Jake Hayes, a street-smart New York City
ticket scalper, and his lost twin brother, a CIA operative who is such a
non-player that his name isn’t even listed in the production credits. The one
brother, the operative (both brothers are played by Chris Rock, whose facial
hair style never changes between the two), is an interesting specimen from a
filmmaker’s point of view. He was raised by rich parents, went to Ivy League
schools, and has an appreciation for fine wine and classical music. The
not-so-subtle hint here is that he is part of the “white” establishment while
his brother, Jake, is more “real.” Is this a bad thing? Maybe, maybe not- a
movie can have a lot of fun by smartly lampooning stereotypes like this.
However, is there a single line or barb in the film that carries this tone? No.
As quickly as Bruckheimer and director Joel Schumacher play the race card they
fold it away. This is like listening to someone tell a dirty joke only to stop
short of the punch line, lest it offend anyone.
Bad Company involves the same kind of paint-by-numbers plot that his catalogue
depends on: Major Threat to Freedom and Democracy (chemical weapons, nuclear
bomb, asteroid) is wielded by funny-looking villains who are often foreign (the
funnier-sounding names the better) and always smoke cigarettes. Here, a group of
multi-national terrorists (snicker) who hold the brazenly radical view that
poverty really sucks want to use a stolen nuclear device to punish the United
States for its sins. Don’t ask what these sins are specifically- that would have
required the screenwriters to look back at their History 101 notes. Worrying
about the dynamics of how it ends up in their hands, in turn, would require you
to waste an awful lot of cognitive time which would be better used in figuring
out where you set down the remote.
Jake Hayes’ CIA brother was in the process of trying to retrieve the device when
he was killed. But since the Bad Guys don’t know he’s dead- Hayes is asked to
stand in his brother’s place. Here is where much of the film could have come to
life, but doesn’t. The trailers make much ado about two themes- the
fish-out-of-water comedy of errors that results when the decidedly rough Jake
takes his “refined” brother’s place and Chris Rock’s rapid-fire, ain’t-got-time-for-bulls**it
demeanor. Neither are explored well. When Jake turns on his brother’s radio to
be confronted by his taste in classical music, what does he do? Why, (get ready
for this, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!), he CHANGES THE STATION! Get it?
Huh? Neither did I. But the biggest problem here is one common to actors whose
personalities eclipse their characters: the film hinges too much on Rock and
nothing on Jake Hayes. Hayes, in actuality, comes off as kind of a wimp. We see
his in-your-face tirades paraded through the commercials, but in the film when
the s*** hits the fan, he usually resorts to exchanges like this:
Gaylord Oaks (Anthony Hopkins): Don’t shoot the bomb!
Jake Hayes: Don’t shoot me either!
In a technical sense, some of Bad Company is rather well done- there is a rather
nifty car chase near the end. Nevertheless, the movie is clings so stubbornly to
the creative trappings of only ten-thousand other ones just like it without once
even trying to surprise us, it comes off as rote, unsurprising, and, along with
The Scorpion King, one of the most forgettable movies of the year. But it is the
fact that, presumably, Jerry Bruckheimer wouldn’t have it any other way that
scares me. C