Lara
Croft: Tomb Raider
Let the dead
stay dead…
Ah, those bee-stung
lips. That playfully, sinfully long strand of hair that consistently
drapes over that face, coincidentally misted with just enough perspiration
to make it glow. Those two huge guns that bounce and twirl at every
opportunity. Without a doubt, Angelina Jolie is the living embodiment
of cyber-Venus Lara Croft. But then, Bob Hoskins was once the living
embodiment of Mario, and we all know how that turned out. But
what a great cross-over that could be…for Bob Hoskins, anyway.
Deep in a tomb,
because after all, this isn't Lara Croft: Lingerie Store Raider
and more's the pity, Lara stalks a mysterious golden gem. At this point,
you might expect some sort of spectral defender, but instead she finds
her way blocked by an advanced version of Robocop 2. No matter what
she does, the thing just keeps coming. She keeps firing. It keeps coming,
rising from the "dead" at least twice. Finally, she does the only thing
she can do: grab the gem, which isn't really a gem, and put it in the
robot. It turns out it's some sort of mini-disc, containing "Lara's
Party Mix." Never mind that Lara really doesn't seem to be a party kind
of girl, nor really have any friends. Or personality, but we'll get
to that.
This whole sequence,
aside from being obviously video-game like, has been a training exercise
designed by Bryce (Noah Taylor). Living in an Airstream trailer on the
grounds of stately Croft Manor, Bryce provides Lara with all her toys,
technical knowledge, and impetus to brush her teeth. Rounding out her
team comes the butler, Hilary, played with proper starchiness by Chris
Barrie (Rimmer from Red Dwarf). After momentary giddiness over
the exercise, and a kind shower scene from director Simon West, Lara
sinks into a funk when she realizes that today is the anniversary of
her father's disappearance. "May 15 is never a good day…" she murmurs,
close to emulating sadness. Those wacky Brits. April 15 is never
a good day.
Actually, this
particular May 15 is a terrible day, because it marks the beginning
of a planetary alignment (pretentious word for the day: syzygy,
but the movie never uses that for fear it will make audiences' brows
furrow and heads hurt). Somewhere in Europe, the evil Illuminati have
gathered, searching for pieces of a mystic artifact that will allow
them to conquer time itself, as long as they put it all together before
the end of the alignment. As luck would have it, Lara has one of the
pieces, hidden inside of an antique clock hidden inside a crate hidden
inside a room hidden inside a staircase hidden inside of Croft Manor.
That very night, it starts ticking. Or that might have been some audience
member's wristwatch. It was an Indiglo.
There's more, but
really, it doesn't matter. The Illuminati have an agent who recruits
Lara's sometime boyfriend to help find the pieces. Despite it being
clearly established that nobody knows where the pieces are at the beginning,
everybody ends up in the exact exotic locales they need to be
to find them. First, a temple in Kuala Lumpur (not even Indiana Jones
went there!), which features the monkey statues that like Cherry
Pepsi so much. Granted, this is based on a videogame, but not even The
Mummy Returns so obviously substituted gameplay for script. Lara
and the evil guys face the monkey things, then some griffin things,
and then some three-faced multi-breasted Buddha thing. And it's all
ho-hum, because we've all played games paced just like this. Occasionally
a small child appears to Lara, trying to dissuade her from her path,
but this potentially creative plot complication never develops. Instead,
Lara throws in with the Illuminati, who she states she considers
to be evil. Everybody fights some more in Siberia. Angelina Jolie's
real dad, Jon Voight, appears, giving the single worst performance an
Academy Award-winning actor has ever given in a movie, though Jolie
herself comes a close second.
Lara Croft:
Tomb Raider makes a more interesting Taco Bell ad than a movie,
and that's only because the ad has burritos in it. A credited six people
wrestled this screenplay into its final form, and one of the stone monkeys
could have done better. Or at least written Hamlet. West shoots
everything like a drawn-out music video. Granted, that happens a lot
in modern movies, but it stands out here because there's no flow of
ideas. The action sequences borrow liberally from the gaming arena,
and it's just irritating. Show us something we can't get from
a gamepad ourselves. West does provide one cinematic innovation, and
let's give him credit. At one point, Kuala Lumpur literally morphs into
Venice in a neat transition scene. If he could only have caused any
of his actors to morph into, well, actors, we might have had
something.
Almost every human
character here might as well have been left digital. Jolie has the look
and the accent down, but she must have dwelled too much on the idea
that the British are repressed. Subtle pouting passes for every emotion.
As Alfred, er, Hilary, Barrie does a well-dressed Rimmer. Almost everyone
else gets out-acted by the robot at the beginning.
And yet, for some
reason we have the strangest craving for Cherry Pepsi…
Derek
McCaw
Well
we all want to save the world...
Swordfish
by Derek McCaw (Updated
6-12-01, 8:36 PM PST)
Halle has been berry, berry good to me...