
The opening credits of Tony Scott’s remake of The Taking of Pelham 123 are set to a remix of Jay-Z’s masterpiece pop single, “99 Problems.” Our first extreme close-up glimpse at the face of John Travolta’s goateed growler, with diamond cross stud in right ear to immediately clue us in to his Catholicism/Achilles Heel, coincides with the first burst of the song’s chorus: “I’ve got 99 Problems but a bitch ain’t one. Hit me!” When I saw the movie, I was sitting next to an older gentleman who, at the close of that first “Hit me!”, audibly groaned. This was just the beginning of his displeasure. In the film’s final scene, there’s a joke about a local New York sports team, which, I thought, worked thanks to James Gandolfini’s delivery. I laughed - not a sustained chuckle, but a single, barked “Ha!” The guy sitting next to me turned to his friend and said, in a voice far above a whisper, “That wasn’t funny! It wasn’t even funny!”
It’s hard for me to understand how someone could get so worked up about the choices made by director Scott in his completely unnecessary remake of the 70s cult classic. Aside from that laugh and a couple of others, which came virtually as knee jerk trained responses to John Travolta’s sleepwalk through his role as a crackpot train hijacker, I felt nothing whilst watching this film. It was almost a Zen thing, a level of calm non-emotion which, I must say, I have rarely experienced at a screening of a studio action film. I’d say that the ultimate affect of Pelham is like being trapped in a loop of white noise, but that sounds sort of cool and futurist, and this film is neither of those things — it’s more like swimming laps in bowl of room-temperature oatmeal. After the screening, I was 10th in line for the ladies room, which gave me time to think about the word “pointless,” and how often it’s wasted to describe endeavors that are merely so boring that they make us resent the expenditure of time, but which actually do have a goal. By the time I’ve moved up to 3rd in line, I’ve vowed to reserve my use of the word “pointless” for experiences like The Taking of Pelham 123, which are literally pointless, in that there is no point of impact. They simply do not have a reason to exist.
Well, maybe this one has *one* reason.
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Good thing Veruca Salt (the girl, not the band) doesn’t have a movie up for Best Picture this year. She’d probably shout at her daddy, “Hey, Denzel’s got two! I want another one!” And hopefully Grandpa Joe (Here that would be Joe Wright, whose Atonement received seven nominations) would turn around and mumble that she needs a good kick in the pants.
But really, looking at the Golden Globe nominees this morning, I’m wondering why the Hollywood Foreign Press Association couldn’t just pick one of Denzel Washington’s films, so that one category wouldn’t make the rest of the list seem so lopsided. Surely there were two more comedy/musical contenders that could have been added on, too. Heck, let’s just nominate everybody and call it a year, shall we?
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