This film opens with one of the more gratuitous sex scenes in recent memory. Joaquin Phoenix and Eva Mendes grope on a couch immediately following the opening credits. One expects that with such vivid content being thrust (pun intended) at the audience in the beginning of a film there will be context to follow. Nope. No such context is provided. The two actors are asked by director James Gray to suffer the indignity and embarrassment of a sex scene for nothing other than to satisfy his bad film making impulses. Any time you see a sex scene in a film, it may seem like its fun and exciting. Now, of course, some actors will claim this is the case. If you've ever seen one of these things being shot, its a miserable thing, in particular for many actors. You have to lay there with another person who you may or may not know all that well and if you know them you may or may not even like them all that much. The actors then have to portray two people making "the beast with two backs" while taking direction, reshooting moves and waiting for lighting to get corrected. All of this while being half naked as the crew look on, bored, waiting to get a chance to sneak out for a smoke. When I see a sex scene like the one that opens this movie, its offensive when it is so clearly unneeded not only because the audience is asked to sit and watch but also because the cast and crew had to endure creating it. Perhaps Ms. Mendez and Mr. Phoenix wouldn't complain about having to do the scene but the audience should.
Even you love stupid movies, this film will still probably be too stupid for you to stomach. This uninspired and inept mess makes Uwe Boll movies seem thought out and crafty. It is like cinematic version of binge drinking, it's the ultimate in self indulgence, waste and miserable to witness.
Ladies, as a piece of advice, if you're dating a guy and you see this boxed turd in his DVD collection, you know you've got yourself a loser. Leave him behind, he'll probably not amount to much - he obviously is lacking in taste and self respect. That's right, it's so bad you can actually judge other's characters by their proximity to this product.
Clive Owen (Children of Men), as mumbling and linty as ever, portrays himself portraying some guy named Smith who acts just like very other character Clive Owen has even portrayed. Every once in a while Owen share space with Paul Giamatti (Lady in the Water) who chews up the scenery like some bored and angry pit bull. Giamatti is way too good for the script and ends up overacting to compensate for the moronic dialog that spews from his screaming maw. The two, along with Monica Bellucci (Passion of the Christ) seem to enjoy themselves slumming in this over-the-top sophomoric flick about a guy who tries to save a baby - or something like that, the plot increasingly gets less and less relevant and fades into the background.
This is simply a bad movie. It wants to be brutish, and it succeeds at its goal but that is the only this it offers - being abrupt. If you're going to waste your life watching bad movies, there are far superior bad movies to watch than this.
Clive Owen movies
Inside Man (2006)
Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)
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