Reviews

This movie came out several years ago, but judging by the most popular user reviews, it didn't look like there was a serious examination of this movie that caught on-- there seem to be either of two camps: those that exuberantly bought it, or those that couldn't stand the many holes in the movie.

First, to get to the things I think most everyone agrees this movie does well. It is intense, well acted, with really good production values. This is a valuable 'slow burn' film.

Before getting into the thematic oversights, plot holes and moral shortcomings, it should be pointed out under what type of atmosphere we're operating under here: the stringent-ness that Hollywood commonly employs in military movies is no different here. I.e. Stringent-ness it does not have. While this movie may think of itself as an intelligent, and on-point movie, with the bevy of accurate job titles and chains of command, after seeing this, take a moment and think about Full Metal Jacket. Think about the stringent-quality deployed in that movie, at so many levels, to emphasize the military training (re-training) of mentality. That's a thought-exercise, using hyperbole. But it drives home the point that this movie really lacks deft direction. Especially for such a precise, pivotal dilemma. In fact, there's probably a reason it lacks deft direction, and it goes hand-in-hand with the moral blunder I'll get into later.

Now to the rub. This movie has a SUPER INTERESTING theme. I've spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on this, and wrote some of this in the hopes that anyone that did not go to school for theater or film, may derive something from this examination, that will greater enrich their filmgoing experience.

The thematic dilemma here is this: is it right to choose what's better now, or what's better later, knowing what's better later, though a harder choice, will have greater benefit. (Just writing that, makes me so much more disappointed in the filmmakers for the choices they made, because they had something really interesting possible, but they chose the easy, sentimental route. Sort of ironic.)

Taking that theme, we can look back at a number of events where it was injected into the story, to inform us about the characters. Just some random ones that come to mind for me: the foreign minister that "had the prawns," when he was either advised or should have known they would have repercussions later; the girl's father telling his daughter to stop hula-hooping, avoiding confrontation with the fanatic, and preserving a safe home; the command room colonel (Mirren) telling the CDE technician to fudge the numbers to 45%, thus preserving the mission. Each of these characters (and all the others not named) are used in the story to either push forward or counter the final moral message. The food-borne illness minister is painted as a "poor" decision maker; thus the filmmakers are saying the very fact that he, and the people involved, is the problem. The colonel likewise, because she had to bend the truth to create the outcome. And all of the sub-optimal conditions, from people of privilege and power, led to the girl's death. The irony here is, the father weighed consequences of now vs later, and decided later was more important. The very conclusion the military brass arrived at to ok the strike, yet the brass are the villains here! This is one of the biggest moral shortcomings. And where the movie shows a lack of intelligent, unbiased self-examination.

Going back to the lack of deft, tight direction, in light of the unexamined moral shortcomings, it starts to make sense. If the director had chosen, or the director had been chosen for, a style more in the likeness of Full Metal Jacket, it would have led to a number of inconvenient truths: the reason for the girl's death would have been the strictness of military regiment, i.e. We would have seen the people making the decisions as less personal and more detached from their decision-making. The irony (again!) is, thank the lord there is a strictness in military regiment, that creates decision-making not based on emotion, or rashness, but on guidance, evidence and duty. 80 innocent people wake up tomorrow in this movie world because of this. (On a side note, I came away from this movie wholly indebted and appreciative that the military is not based on the Hollywood view of the military. I will sleep very soundly tonight thinking on that topic.)

Before getting to the ending, other reviews levied some pretty relevant criticisms. One more to add is-- a good film or story must examine or discredit all the possibilities of choice, in order to arrive at the final 'either this or that' outcome. The most glaring omission here is that the high value targets and the suicide bombers 'must' be taken out together, right now. Any other possibility wasn't even examined. You can already see by just asking that question how it is a huge plot hole.

So getting to the ending, adding up the filmmakers' creative choices, they want to play to the emotions of here-and-now, and create a story where there are only losers in warfare. This is the meaning of the final images of the girl hula-hooping in remembrance. But think back a few minutes, the movie affirmed that 80 people had their lives saved by the action. Yet the ending has no montage of 80 people smiling, laughing, going about their day with family and friends, not knowing their lives had just been spared, because the right, harder choice had been made.

This was a compelling story all the way through the episode, but cutting to the ending, since it is (at the very least) a controversial culmination. While the lesson of weighing unforeseen consequences in one's decision-making is an important one-- as seen by the engineer taking in the cogenitor-- it is unfortunately not propped up by the story, as its a victim to missing other solutions to the ending, with the existing death-ending being used to reinforce the cautionary tale-esque lesson.

1. The proper solution to the problem of the cogenitor wanting to stay onboard and express their freewill was to have the individual fulfill their prior obligation of their role in the reproductive process with the alien couple, and afterwards (however long that reproductive process is) come aboard the starfleet ship. The obligation complete, they should be able to act on their own freewill. The story as is, is an endorsement of slavery. The entire lesson of freedom is one of self-determination; but that process doesn't ever take place in a vacuum. The episode really gets ironic on this point because the captain when he gets back from the star visit, around the end of the 2nd or start of the 3rd act, tells the engineer that what the captain did by giving the aliens the books is different, because they asked for them. I.e. They determined their course, which is 'good' in the captain's eyes; but later when the cogenitor attempts self-determination, by trying to stay onboard, the captain lambasts the engineer. Which is pretty poor writing by not recalling the prior theme. The final lesson comes across as either a reinforcement in misogyny (the cogenitor is submissive), intellectual elitism or race superiority. (I'm a white male, for disclaimer's sake.)

2. The captain blaming the death of the cogenitor on the engineer, who was trying to spread knowledge and was scientifically compelled since neurologically the cogenitor was of equal intellect, is a very poor lesson (in light of the ending). Spreading knowledge should never be discouraged when the information can grow freedoms. In fact, this would be a great episode to show a child and (after explaining why the engineer initially not following directions was wrong) pick apart 'why' the captain's choice at the end is actually a bad lesson in decision-making and leadership, i.e. See #1 above.

A top notch cast accompanies Colin Farrell in this one. It has some really fine production value for what must've been a small budget. There are some powerful, emotional moments that, though everything has been shown before in war, scratch some new surface and find some new wounds.

All the things that worked really well though are in constant balance with the kinda vague and unexplored emotional moments that push so much of the plot along.

For example, after the explosion is finally revealed, and we learn Mark has been lying about what happened while in-country, the first question I wanted his wife to ask was where's David? She's shown interest in helping find David behind Mark's back, and this is the big question hanging over the story, yet she doesn't ask. She plays a complacent role here, not the critical one that would've been more natural, more interesting, and created far more tension.

It was here I realized that the character's discoveries all seem to happen while alone. This is something you can get away with in a novel, it usually works quite well, you have some space for internal monologue. But the adaptation here doesn't fill in the needed space that the book clearly created with internal monologue and those internal moments. In a movie this leaves the characters seeming disconnected, and lacking emotionally robustness or color. Internalizing in a movie works very well when done properly, as say Apocalypse Now did so perfectly. I think having another screenwriter adapt the novel, or touch it up, would've benefited greatly. I feel like the director was probably too close to it to see where his screenplay wasn't working.

The grandfather interactions and the war story vignettes. These are the high points of the movie. The baby-step in the present/flashback of the past format itself is memorable and would've been interesting to shape the whole movie around the format. As it is, the entire movie starts too late, with much of the first hour not being potent or being redundant plot that the grandfather interactions cover. The grandfather as the emotional translator and detective, this is a fascinating and dark relationship. I imagine the novelist felt on his game writing these scenes. Much more of this relationship could've been explored.

As an example of the vague, internalized moments that were not translated onto the screen-- after Mark has finally revealed what happened with David, an emotional interaction, the scene ends with an "off" moment: the grandfather shakes his head at Mark, and Mark looks vague and looks down. His internal processing is unknown. Another vague moment. Colin Farrell does great with the material he has, but it's clear the adaptation isn't there, the moment isn't captured in the screenplay.

A second example-- after the birth. The woman has become a mother and a widow on the same day. That's powerful and will shape the rest of her life. It's a well-thought out character by the novelist, yet in the movie, how could the widow be so quick and easy to forgive a few hours after she's found out her husband was killed, and she'd been lied to about for days or weeks. It's a powerful place for a person to be, not unrealistic in the grieving process, yet we don't see that transition. And that's an important relationship in the story, as Mark can't move on without her forgiveness or closure.

In the end I couldn't identify with the main character emotionally unless he was talking in flashback; there his reflections were visualized, and allowed us to experience his conflict with him.

I'm a pretty solid Burt Reynolds fan. I like a good, cheap redneck comedy. And I'm no saint. But what the heck was this guy's deal? I can't remember the last movie character I saw that was such an obvious scumbag, and that I was supposed to root for and laugh along with like he was one of my buddies. Maybe the book got it right, but the movie lacked any conflict in character and simply celebrated his tasteless behavior. When a driver can't handle being taken into the wall--it happens, dude-- but he takes it out on the winner by faking an injury, cause that's the only way he can steal his girl; then loses another race fair-and-square because he takes a bad outside line, so, instead of looking at himself and his losing ways, he tosses the winner through a plate glass window; then he can't start a fight like a man, so has to trick a guy into looking up, then he sucker punches him; then can't get the woman he wants because she actually has integrity, so he has to trick her into downing alcohol against her wishes like some frat boy; then when he's got her passed out in bed, he can't handle the fact he's losing a battle against someone respectable, so has to undress a completely unconscious woman, yeah, you read that right (really Burt?).... that person isn't a hero or someone I want to chum along with, that person is a loser and a scumbag.

I'm not even talking about the misogynist jokes and putdowns, that was kinda the norm of comedy then. I mean, that stuff was kinda funny for that kind of humor.

Sure, it's all for laughs and not to be taken seriously. The Nascar stuff was cool like one of the other reviewers said. But even with a stupid redneck comedy I want my hero to have a grain of integrity. Which, nah, wasn't here.

This isn't a run-of-the-mill horror film. It's a gem of subtle camerawork and slow-building tension heightened with some genuinely extreme and horrifying moments.

The first director I thought this Aussie was paying homage or crafting his film after was Kubrick--with his menacing use of camera movement and perpetual, unforgiving environment, Kubrick was a master. This director and film don't achieve that level of craft, but it was a surprise and reward to see an unknown weaving together advanced camera and editing techniques to build some scary moments.

The opening shot is something out of the helicopter shot following the car in The Shining. Not as long or nearly as technical, but with the added voiceover, the same tension of dropping down into this dark world is there.

Many of the shot selections are subtly creepy and right on the mark. When the hitchhiking girl gets into the cab of the flatbed truck, we get a subjective shot from the driver's POV and never see the driver. This creates undeniable, yet subtle tension. And a few minutes later we learn why with an unreal payoff that made me question if Tom Ford watched this movie when writing Nocturnal Animals to have crafted the horror in his kidnapping scene.

The eccentric soundtrack always seems to come in at the right moment, with the compositional themes of a nightmare opera. The composer plays on the minor keys, creating a subtly 'off' sound to match the story and camerawork.

When the two women in the countryside come into the story I realized what type of film, tone-wise, I was finally watching. It's something like Scorsese's After Hours, but as horror. (or I suppose you could just call this early Peter Jackson.) The protagonist gets himself into these unreal, sometimes darkly funny situations, and we watch, gripping our armrest more and more tightly, seeing how far it will go.

Sure, there are some messy plot-points: it's a bit convenient the hitchhiker is dropped off right where she is; and the nature behind the protagonist's condition isn't explored very well. But these are somewhat forgivable.

As a whole, though, the story development--the ways the main character could've gone, to challenge his condition and be challenged-- is the weakest element, especially in the third act, and takes away from the film's greater potential, keeping it from achieving the completeness of the films I mentioned above. For the most part, the last thirty minutes aren't patiently built up with slow-rising tension, or leveled with the same amount of detail as the first hour. Though there are moments there, and it does end on a high note that lives up to the rest of the film, making it a gem worth checking out.

Such a great cast. Some intense individual performances. If this were the type of movie that could be made or broken by its cast it would be a classic. Unfortunately that's not the case.

The movie starts off and sets a high bar. At a cops vs. detectives rival football game we learn about a 10-13 -- four officers have been killed. A number of story-lines converge to create a number of potentially explosive relationships. But about 30 minutes in, the whole rhythm of the film just about falls flat. The good pursue the truth with tireless effort, but not much personal conflict; while the bad stay one step ahead trying to tie up their loose ends.

I found the story and this world of police corruption pretty fascinating, but the angle taken to pursue it--the burnt out cop getting back in the game, played by Ed Norton--pretty cliché and not dynamic. Norton is great, but his character doesn't have any particular traits to make him interesting or memorable, or in conflict with himself. In fact the only character I thought interesting, other than Voigt as a father of two cops, and Maximiliano Hernandez as an interesting journalist but arriving too late, was Farrell as the trouble-making cop welcomed into the honest family. That character alone stands on a pedestal and makes the picture interesting. But without a heavyweight counterpart to punch back with his own personal cause, e.g. Norton's character, Farrell can't raise the bar back to the heights of the first scene at the football game, where the story promised an intimate clash of one side versus another.

This isn't so much a review as a note on the visual style since it wasn't presented objectively in other reviews. If you love movies with stark visual elements like Aronofsky's PI, Cube, or Dark City, stop reading here, you'll probably love this movie.

There was a time I savored the effect of high stylization that nears artwork, but I now find its presence a distraction to the story. That said, the visual elements here are so strong and so present that if you're not a fan, it's an impossible movie to watch. I thought the cast with two Hollywood actors would make it borderline Hollywood fare; it decidedly is not.

For example, the opening sequence is shot in almost black and white, with actors staged unrealistically far apart with a very unnatural acting style, circa a comic book style. The black-and-white visual theme continues into the following scenes, as the protagonist seems to be the only living element moving freely. This is clearly a directing decision, and one that the viewer has to reconcile to enjoy. I believe the film would have benefited if it had, say, the same feel and the performers were allowed the same acting range as Truffaut's Fahrenheit-451. As it is the film makes sense that it was released for the anime-heavy Japanese audience.

I came in with pretty low expectations of plot, character, and depth, thinking Black Water would be something close to Open Water--naturally filmed, realistic style of acting, etc. Though the visual aspects of the film outweigh Open Water quite a bit, and there's a clear sense of visual style, Black Water sank when it came to creating tension and visualizing the danger. More often than not when danger was near we were being told it was near by an omnipresent soundtrack. Our senses weren't allowed to detect danger by an image, or an escalating event like seeing a crocodile jump in the water, then seeing the characters jump in the same water. I find animal attack movies very entertaining, from Jaws to cheeseball ones like Razorback, and I even really liked Open Water. But there wasn't a single tense moment created in this movie.

It's clear in the first five minutes that a typical plot and character development are going to be absent in the story. That's absolutely fine. But without the film's ability to captivate the senses, the flatness of plot stands out all the more. I think the film's intentional absence of b-plot is the culprit; in another film you'd cut away from the characters to show the croc jumping into the water, then cut back to the characters, instant tension, you'd think "don't go in right now guys, the crocs in the water!".

While I understand the neo-realist intent, this movie really underwhelmed me intellectually, emotionally, and in my senses. Maybe if I had a big screen, the creaking trees and thrumming river would deliver an elevated experience and a different reaction. As it was, almost every shot seemed held for too long, tension-less, and kinda pointless. How many times can you show someone scaling around in a tree and expect them to keep watching? Or better yet, create an expectation that something so bad is about to happen that I don't wanna watch? This movie did that zero times.

For comparison, a movie in my People who liked this also liked... is Windchill. That movie scared the bejeebus out of me. This movie didn't come close.

The episode hits all the right buttons, and a few wrong ones. It has the foreign land of danger, intriguing villain, daring mission, and a compelling tension in Scott's character. Unfortunately it also has a big plot-hole. The crux of the episode should come down to Scott being overtaken by his lust or vanity, getting them into an inescapable trouble. Once the dangerous duo have rescued the hostages they trek out on their own and are faced with the perils of exiting the country. Unfortunately the climax doesn't come down to Scott and his actions undermining their escape. It comes down to the pair becoming uncharacteristically, which is convenient to the plot, lackadaisical in assessing danger. The tension seems to just evaporate right after they obtain the hostages, like they've already made it out of danger, but really kicks into high gear when they trust the Army team that has just abandoned the rendezvous pickup and they relax. This contrasts the Zimbabawe episodes of Season 1 where all the tension was simply being in country. Entirely different people behind that show, but the concept is pretty simple.

All the makings of a great episode are here. And the distracted characteristic is not unlike the duo in prior episodes, but it is contrary to them in the beginning of this episode, where they outsmart a setup intending to kill the freed prisoner, and later at the onset of arriving in Kosovo where they split up to hedge the departmental leak. This type of intuition in the characters is great. Unfortunately it isn't carried through into the climax.

In all still a good episode, well worth watching, and much better than most spy/war shows, with the heroes delivering their typical cowboy swagger and punch-lines.

It just seems like the writers of Season 2 are getting more and more lackadaisical or time-crunched. Maybe it will get better in Season 3 and 4.

Just a quick blurb since neither of the reviews spoke about the plot. The hero is a young guy that yearns to be a race-car driver yet gets caught up in the high-rolling lifestyle of a Beverly Hills man. Or some scenic 'Hills' where the rich bask in the glow of crystal blue pools and exotic cars. The high-roller flaunts his beautiful daughter with a 'look but don't touch' rule. It seems too good to be true for the young guy. And of course it is, when the hero finds out the real motives behind the high-roller. Then the road the young racer is headed down gains a few twists. This is a straight boobs mixed with action b-movie. I don't recall any nudity though. The exotic cars are not that hot. The action is pretty low-fi, with a couple car race scenes. The production value is also rather low, with many of the scenes centered around the mansion out in the Hills. But it pits good vs evil, and as an action guy it has that certain '3 AM and I can't sleep' appeal.

This episode is a miss. It lacks the usual heartbeat of action, suspense, and danger Vice-watchers are accustomed to, as the episode experiments with a serious dramatic tone. The episode entirely centers on the outlandish acts of a once-was turned junkie named Mikey, the lead supporting character, and the Vice squad's response. The actor playing Mikey is at times so over the top and out of touch with the craft it's painful to watch. His scenes opposite Benecio Del Toro are particularly painful, as you notice Del Toro in the background and the young mastery he's figuring out not getting enough screen time, while the other actor flails, not choosing moments, simply playing bravado. His emotion is raw, but his performance lives in the neighborhood of a lead in an ABC Afterschool Special, if that's your mood. To contrast the performance with the late performances of Heath Ledger, you see in Ledger what an actor conflicted with his addiction, but very finely maneuvering his craft looks like, compared to the amateurish output here. Even Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas' acting, which I normally find invigorating, seem stilted and hollow as they try out a 'serious' side. The story itself is not tied in to Crockett or Tubbs except on a superficial personal level... "he could have had it all" is the refrain playing on their motivation. The climax somehow mounts into a very nice moment, mixing action with the emotion that's taken so long to develop, and feels like a very-Michael Mann moment, but it's over almost as soon as it starts. I've liked some of the less popular Vice episodes, and going in I thought the premise was a lame duck. I was right.