Tell me what’s wrong with this picture. A beautiful woman arrives at a maximum security lunar prison. It was built specifically for this notorious alien assassin who she just happens to be visiting. She comes bearing a gift: a cake. The two, dopey prison guards who greet her, when they’re not insulting her appearance, perform an electronic security check on the cake. Their advanced sensors don’t detect anything suspicious, so they take her to Boris The Animal, the above-mentioned alien assassin. He’s locked up alone in a vault.
After what has to be the grossest display of french kissing I’ve ever seen (Boris puts Gene Simmons to shame), one of the guards makes the foolish mistake of touching the cake. Out comes a rather nasty alien spider and, well, you can probably guess the rest.
I have a question. What is the point of having a state-of-the-art correctional facility, built on the moon no less, filled with electronically equipped security guards when all it takes to break out one prisoner is to do the old bake-a-cake-with-a-creepy-surprise-inside routine? Isn’t this covered in the training manual? Seems a little obvious, guys.
Such is the glaring credibility problem that opens the underwhelming Men In Black 3. Boris The Animal (played by the always Jaggeresque Jemaine Clement of Flight Of The Conchords) has a huge beef with Agent K (the always scowling Tommy Lee Jones). Back in 1969, the then-29-year-old secret government agent vapourized his arm and had him locked away, something he’s always regretted. (He wishes he killed him when he had the chance.) At some point, while in that lunar prison Boris befriended another inmate who told him about time travel, a controversial practice that ended with his imprisonment. They make a deal that The Animal has no intention of keeping.
You can already see where I’m going with this. Boris wants to go back to mid-July 1969 (around the time of the legendary first Apollo moon mission) not only to kill Agent K and maintain his left arm but to also stop him from implementing an electronic shield around Earth which would prevent any and all future invasions from his alien race (he was supposed to be the last of his kind), something that doesn’t sit too well with the merciless invader.
After escaping from prison (without his lady friend) and landing on Earth (all without needing an oxygen tank), a New York electronics merchant hooks him up with some time travel equipment (think a much fancier alien version of a more circular-shaped smartphone) and then it’s bye-bye Mr. Cranky. Soon after, Agent Jay (the sadly unfunny and condescending Will Smith) is shocked to discover at work that his longtime partner is dead. (Will Arnett has a disappointing cameo as J’s overly chatty new partner who he encounters in an elevator.) He’s also been having sudden, weird cravings for chocolate milk.
As his new boss, Agent O (a badly misused Emma Thompson), explains, someone’s been monkeying around with the space-time continuum and it’s affecting J’s brain. (How come no one else experiences this and what does this have to do with one’s drinking habits?) Having just learned about the history between Boris and K through a talking computer file, J finds the exact same New York electronics merchant, gets hooked up with the exact same time travel equipment and is horrified to learn how he actually gets to go back to 1969.
He literally has to “time jump” which involves jumping off the edge of a skyscraper and moving his finger through a green laser on the alien smartphone with expert precision after reaching a certain low level. (Timing is everything.) It’s easily the best sequence in the film; genuinely exciting, inventive and with a nice pay-off at the end. What a shame the rest of the film feels so routine and witless (although there are a couple of very modest chuckles).
Despite being told he can’t interact with the younger Agent K (a perfectly cast Josh Brolin who deserves better dialogue), they end up meeting anyway at Coney Island where his suspicious, future partner takes him in for questioning after a fruitless encounter with Boris. While in the 60s version of MIB headquarters, we learn that K and O are romantically involved. By 2012, for some unknown reason, they’re just co-workers. (Guess that’s being saved for the fourth film. Blech.)
Once J convinces the younger K about what’s going on (even as a young guy the latter always catches the former lying), they have 19 hours to stop not one but two Borises from changing the course of history. Helping them is Griffin (unamusing Robin Williams look-a-like Michael Stuhlbarg), an alien soothsayer they meet at a party who is so overwhelmed with possible scenarios of the future it’s all he ever talks about.
Gee, what are the chances they’ll fail in their monumental task?
Unlike many, I’ve never been a big supporter of this overrated franchise. From the first film onward, the interactions between Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith have lacked the kind of comedic zip crucial for buddy pictures like this to work. Plus, the constant source of their professional tension is always the same in every movie. Smith finds the country music-lovin’ Jones overly secretive, domineering, old and crabby while Jones wishes his overly eager, sarcastic young partner embraced silence. It’s time to come up with some new jokes.
And then there’s the alien stuff. In this movie, Boris The Animal (“It’s just Boris!”) is a great looking character with a unique way of killing people (he shoots sharp, little arrows or spikes from his hands). But he’s not very interesting, personality-wise, nor particularly unlikable, despite how he treats people in the opening scene (that’s no way to treat a Pussycat Doll, buddy!). And what’s with his lame catchphrase, “Let’s agree to disagree”? Weak. He just doesn’t measure up as a villain.
Yes, the special effects are tremendous. They always have been in this series. Yes, the gadgetry is cool. Who wouldn’t love to have any of those cool weapons? Yes, the inclusions of The Velvet Underground’s I’m Waiting For The Man and The Rolling Stones’ 2000 Light Years From Home are sly and welcome. But the comedy remains putrid. Consider J’s desperate riffing on O and K, Emma Thompson’s painfully unfunny alien impression during the funeral for former MIB honcho Zed (the curiously absent Rip Torn), or the vast majority of throwaway punchlines that all land with a thud. When even SNL comedian Bill Hader can’t get big laughs as a covert Andy Warhol (just one small chuckle), you’re in trouble.
And what about that final act? Someone’s foot gets seriously stuck and looks pretty much immobile. Yet, mere moments later, without any resolution to that dilemma, a certain someone has somehow managed to get himself free so quickly you wonder what the big deal was. And what about that preposterous last scene? What the hell does forgetting a tip have to do with an incoming asteroid?
In theory, you would think that putting out one of these movies once every five to ten years would mean a lot more effort went into making them great as opposed to churning them out annually without much thought. The reality of the Men In Black franchise, particularly this dreadful three-quel, proves otherwise.
(Special thanks to Dave Scacchi.)
Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Sunday, July 8, 2012
10:18 p.m.
THE WRITINGS OF DENNIS EARL 
August Sleepers & Blockbusters
Ten years ago, I was submitting short entertainment articles to The Hamilton Spectator, my local newspaper. In the Go section, there was a page called YourPlace where writers, unaffiliated with the broadsheet, could send in arts-related pieces for consideration. I was fortunate to have a few of my own accepted and published during this period. They have all since been reposted on this website.
However, most of the work I offered to The Spec was rejected including this piece about late summer movies. It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted anything old in this space, so with August 2012 just days away from arriving it’s more than appropriate to dust off this old nugget from 2002 and share it with all of you. Not a word has been changed.
Making public predictions is a fool’s game that I’ve thankfully restricted in recent years to just the Academy Awards (although the 2012 go-round was not one of my better showings). That being said, it’s nice to remember that my gut feelings about XXX and Signs becoming commercial hits in 2002 were right. (I know. Everyone expected them to do well. Please don’t take away my moment of glory. I have so few of them.) The otherwise ordinary Vin Diesel action flick made almost 300 million worldwide while Mel Gibson’s last good movie made over 400 million.
In the end, of course, only the studios really care if a movie makes money or not. (They invested all that money, after all.) All that really matters to everybody else is whether it’s good or bad. As for this year, it will be interesting to see if anything special is headed our way next month. One thing’s for certain, however. I’ll be leaving the guessing to others.
AUGUST SLEEPERS AND BLOCKBUSTERS
Preparing for the next surprise hit
By Dennis Earl
August is traditionally a bad month to go to the movies. To be more blunt, Hollywood dumps its deadwood, its guaranteed bombs, its mediocre money-losers on a mostly uninterested public who are far too preoccupied with earlier summer hits. And while it’s still true today that bad movies continue to be released near the end of summer where no one will notice them, every once in a while a sleeper or a big blockbuster breaks through.
This August will probably be no exception. Familiar players are involved and big money is at stake. But that probably would never be the case were it not for the successes of past August sleepers and blockbusters.
It was 10 years ago that Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven exceeded expectations and became an August success story, a Hollywood rarity. Eastwood had bought the script in 1981 and sat on it until he was old enough to tackle the lead role of William Munny, a reformed bounty hunter, widowed with young children, called back into action one last time. The film found a decent-sized audience and eventually gave Eastwood 2 Academy Awards for Directing and Producing the movie. (Gene Hackman won his second Oscar for playing the iron-fisted corrupt sheriff, Little Bill Daggett, a role he initially turned down.) This month, Eastwood hopes for another hit with his latest film, Blood Work.
Since that time, Hollywood has delivered other unexpected delights in August.
The following summer, Harrison Ford was eluding the clutches of Tommy Lee Jones while finding the real killer of his hottie wife, Sela Ward, in The Fugitive, the best movie ever made from a TV show. Jones went on to win an Oscar for his great performance while the movie had to settle for a Best Picture nomination. Ford was unjustly snubbed.
In 1994, a dull August was livened up considerably with the release of Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers, one of his best films, at the end of the month. Although it was stupidly passed over for Oscars, the film gave audiences much to think and argue about for the rest of the year.
August 1995 gave us two more surprise success stories. The wonderful Babe, another Best Picture nominee, and the overrated, but nevertheless, popular mystery, The Usual Suspects. Yet another film that delighted audiences with a surprise plot twist. (Kevin Spacey won his first Oscar for his work in that film.)
The Motion Picture Academy can’t resist dark horse British films and several months after the August 1997 release of The Full Monty, the film received 4 Academy Award nominations. (Anne Dudley won the only Oscar for her original score.) A moving, often hilarious and surprisingly touching film that spawned imitators.
In 1999, a young, unknown writer/director named M. Night Shyamalan unveiled his commercial blockbuster, The Sixth Sense, a film that made a star out of Haley Joel Osmont (and gave him an Oscar nomination along with non-stop film work) and which benefitted greatly from a brilliant plot twist that kept movie houses packed through the fall. Like Unforgiven, it would receive recognition from the Motion Picture Academy but only in the form of nominations. Shyamalan is hoping for more of the same magic with his latest acclaimed film, Signs. Starring Mel Gibson, it has a very good chance of finding an audience.
Which brings us to August 2002. I already mentioned Blood Work and Signs, the latest offerings from Clint Eastwood and M. Night Shyamalan respectively. Another potential hit is XXX, the latest vehicle for Vin Diesel who it appears is being molded as the next Schwarzenegger. I’ll be surprised if it bombs.
In an increasingly competitive industry, it’s becoming more and more difficult to find the right release date for a potential hit. Even more frustrating is convincing audiences to spend money on sleepers. But if the past has taught us anything about the month of August, particularly in the last 10 years, at least one film, whether it’s hyped to death or quietly praised, is bound to stand out amongst the usual late summer dreck. This year, there may be more. Let’s hope so.
Dennis Earl
Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
Sunday, July 29, 2012
5:53 p.m.
- Academy Awards
- Commentary
- Movie Reviews
- Movies
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