For all its originality and whimsy, Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was surely among the most overrated pictures of the past decade. Nor did the director’s Human and The Science of Sleep give much indication that this seminal figure in the world of music video knew how to transfer his talents from one medium to another. Can it be a coincidence that his most satisfying work for the big screen remains, by some way, a concert-documentary – the infectiously enjoyable Dave Chappelle’s Block Party?
Having previously plied his trade at the indie-flavoured end of the cinematic spectrum, Gondry now enters the big-budget mainstream with The Green Hornet. This underwhelming superhero spoof is essentially Iron Man (spoiled, party-hearty corporate heir uses technological gadgetry to foil crime) with a post-modern Kick-Ass twist (the characters know all about superhero comics and movies, and try to apply that knowledge to the “real world” with variable results.)
Based on a 1960s television show (notable for introducing kung fu sensation Bruce Lee to American audiences), the film is essentially a vehicle for the comic skills of star and co-writer Seth Rogen. The slimmed-down Rogen displays boundless energy, but limited charm as Britt Reid. Teaming up with his infinitely resourceful chauffeur Kato (Taiwanese pop sensation Jay Chou), Reid takes on Los Angeles crime kingpin Chudnofsky (Christoph Waltz) with the aid of Reid’s criminologist secretary Lenore Case (Cameron Diaz).
In his first release since scooping awards for Inglourious Basterds, Waltz does what he can with an oddball villain role (Chudnofsky is forever fretting that he isn’t scary enough) that John Malkovich might have had much more fun with a decade ago.
Waltz fares much better than the hapless Diaz. Only months after sharing billing with Tom Cruise in the dopey but high-profile Knight & Day, it’s baffling to see her wasted in such a nothing role here. A painful exchange between Rogen and Chou about how old she looks (the film Cocoon is even mentioned) represents the nadir of the script’s uneven attempts at humour.
There are laughs here, but they’re scattered quite sparsely through a taxing two-hour running time. The Green Hornet, after a lively start ends up a flat, forgettable addition to Hollywood’s overstocked ranks of costumed crime-fighter enterprises.
Conviction is an awards-bait snooze-fest, with Hilary Swank (surely she can’t want a third Oscar?) giving it the full Erin Brockovich treatment as Betty Lee Waters, a working-class Massachusetts housewife who, when her brother (Sam Rockwell) went to jail for murder, spent more than a decade educating herself to the point where she could become his attorney.
There’s probably a decent little picture to be found among this based-on-true-events material, but scriptwriter Pamela Gray, director Tony Goldwyn and editor Jay Cassidy never seem very close to finding it.
Swank and Rockwell are OK, but are upstaged by livelier supporting turns from the likes of Minnie Driver, Juliette Lewis (enjoyably loopy as a key witness for the prosecution) and Melissa Leo as the shady cop who may or may not be responsible for the original miscarriage of justice.
The latter point, while crucial, isn’t really explored. Waters never really digs into the actual facts of the case, relying instead on DNA advances and a series of almighty flukes to prove her brother’s innocence. By the end, there’s the sense that key aspects of the
story have been evaded and avoided. Likewise, the picture’s implicit indictments of the death penalty and the American legal system are barely acknowledged in the search for multiplex acceptance.
