Most professional reviewers seem to feel obligated to make comparisons between the new Miami Vice and the TV show that it’s based on. Not I. See, friends, having been born in 1984, I’m part of a generation that knows Miami Vice not through the brightly colored cop series, but from Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, which just so happens to be a video game.
I may not be able to effectively compare the series and the film, but if the TV incarnation was anywhere near as exciting as that video game, director Michael Mann would have been well advised to mimic it. Where that game was vibrant and fun, this film is gloomy, long, and boring. Perpetually looking like a thunderstorm hovered over filming, even indoors, the lead characters hack their way through a practically indecipherable web of scummy South American drug lords, malevolent Neo-Nazis (are there any other kind?), and dialogue so stiff you could bounce a quarter off of it.
The films stars Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx, two actors who each seem to be in a new release every other month. Taking the roles of Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs, respectively, they scowl and grimace as well as anyone going through airport security while going about their undercover business. Both are more than capable actors, but Mann gives them nothing remotely interesting to work with. Other than that Crockett likes Asian chicks, we learn nothing about them, and never feel like seeing more. One would think two hard boiled undercover detectives could provide thousands of fascinating possibilities, but somehow Mann has strip-mined every iota of interest from each one, leaving us with something that makes the rouge cop archetypes of yesteryear seem brilliant by comparison.
The plot, if you really want to know: Crockett and Tubbs infiltrate a drug syndicate. They talk unintelligible drug dealer talk for nearly two hours (presumably to lend a false aura of authenticity), and then get involved in a badly lit shootout that looks like it was edited with the ‘Random’ button. The end. Price tag: $135 million, roughly $100 million more than what it should have cost. The vulgarity here is astounding, even by Hollywood standards. At least the similarly priced and located Bad Boys 2 had dozens of explosions and shootouts; the only sign that Miami Vice was expensive are the South American locales, which are wasted anyway. Never mind that Miami itself is only seen through freeways, docks, and trailer parks. Did the TV series spend so much time in Panama or Cuba? Would a more fitting title be Latin America Vice?
Looking at Mann’s previous work, including the wonderful Heat and Collateral, only adds to the confusion. Here we have a director who has displayed a knack for imbuing standard genre material with a sharp, haunting edge. Heat portrays a battle between cop and criminal that transcends profession and goes to the core of the human condition. In Collateral, we only know the characters for a few hours, but we leave feeling we know everything about them. Miami Vice runs for two hours and then stops, leaving behind only colossal disappointment and rueful desire to have seen something better.
1.5 out of 5
2 comments:
Good Morning,
I'm responding to your comments on my blog. First of all, sorry I'm only doing so now. I must've missed the email notification that I received your comment. I get so few visitors that I'm always eager to acknowledge their comments. Let me assure you, I wasn't "diving under the sand."
And we might as well begin with that assumption. It seems a bit adversarial, and reflects your original comments to me in their tendency toward over-generalization. For instance, I'm not sure who these "many in the contemporary American left" are who "speak of the McCarthy-era as if it were on par with the Holocaust." Of course, the Holocaust, like American slavery, has become the analogy of choice for those who prefer sound bytes to reasoned argument, but your implication is that this is typical, rather than occasional. I honestly can't quantify this, so I'm not sure what equals "many."
But that is a small point. I'm a little more put off by other generalizations. You mention, "every history professor I've had thinks it is necessary to devote hours of class time to [McCarthy]." Just how many American history courses that covered the '50s did you take in college? OK, I'm pressing unfairly, but you lose your audience when you indulge in overstatement. Unless of course you've taken, oh, let's say three college-level history courses that dealt with the '50s, and in each "hours"--more than two?--were spent on McCarthy. In that case, I stand corrected.
As far as the film goes, I guess my comments to Ebert were in reaction to your assertion that the tone of Good Night, and Good Luck was "smug," and, as you write in your original comments to me, "Throughout the film, I felt like I was being directly lectured by George Clooney, smothered by his smarmy insistence that McCarthy was the most dangerous human being to ever live and that the almighty journalist is the only person with the bravery to do what is right." I have to disagree; I found the movie remarkably low-key, reflecting the right-stuff cool favored by the generation of journalists who came out of WWII. This is where long-distance movie-arguing falls flat. What we really need to do is watch it together, pointing out where it seems restrained to one, overbearing to the other.
But barring that, I again must say that your comments leave little room for reasoned disagreement, since, given your comments, if I like the film, then I don't actually have any thoughts worth considering, having been smothered by Clooney's smarmy lecturing and gross generalities. Now, I don't believe you really think I'm that dumb, but your comments are so broadly damning that I feel reduced to a stereotype, the classic "straw man" argument that generates a too easily toppled adversary.
In the end, though, the fact that you "hated" the film leaves the least room for discussion. I prefer a few options when I'm criticizing a film. Even one I might "hate"--like The Island or the musical version of The Producers--at least can be a source of bitter amusement--and even might have a moment or two that commend it. Once one "hates"--or "adores"--the critical faculty is turned off. I suppose there are times when that comes in handy--when responding to evil (hate) or your One True Love (love)--but with movies I prefer a little give.
One more thing; you comment, "any liberal who enjoys the film only enjoys it because it caters to their interpretation of the world." Well, that's true for anyone and anything, don't you think? Freud noted that we love those who are like us or who are idealized versions of ourselves. I'm not sure if he's absolutely correct--so much for opposites attracting, eh?--but I think people tend to be attracted to those things that reflect the way they see things. Even art that "upsets"--as the surrealists insisted art should do--is attractive, at least for those who interpret the world as a place that needs some upsetting--or who, like horror-movie fans, enjoy a bit of vicarious upset. Anyway, what about conservatives who enjoy the film? Like you, they may not only believe that McCarthy's "contribution to our history is certainly unfortunate"--ah, and notice how suddenly you do find a careful, measured tone? You really should try that out when you address your opposition; remember, the point of argument is to convince your audience, not preach to the choir; anyway: Some conservatives might actually like the film, and agree with me that it is not so much "smug" as correct. I do not think the movie equates McCarthy with the Holocaust; but it does point out that it took brave members of Congress and journalists to keep reminding us just how much of a thug McCarthy was. Let's keep in mind the climate of the '50s, the anxiety mixed with prosperity that led to a bit too much "duck-and-cover." David Halberstam has a great book on the '50s--called, simply enough, The Fifties--that details the decade in a fascinating and entertaining manner. I highly recommend it--unless you think Halberstam is too liberal. But be careful: When you exclude abruptly, you truncate your own intellectual growth.
Well, like The Stranger in The Big Lebowski, I'm rambling. I want to apologize again for not responding sooner. And I want to thank you for your kind words about my reviewing style. I'm 49, the pre-codger stage of life, but I've only been writing about movies for four or five years, on and off--more off than on until last year, when I started my blog. It's just that I've been watching the durn things for forty years and counting, and I guess it shows. I hope I didn’t sound too preachy up there, and, while I know I've done my own damage in interpreting your point of view, I thought I needed to point out those elements of your comments that seemed to get in the way of two-way conversation. It's the English teacher in me, never resting, always pestering.
Have a good one; and keep writing. More fun than humans are supposed to have and all that, yes?
Paul Marasa
p.s. One more bit of codgerly advice: Abandon the search for "a concrete political label for [yourself]." You're better off keepin' 'em all guessing, even yourself.
p.p.s. See? You goaded me into a response, and look at the mess you got. Be careful what you wish for ...
My own two cents: "Wow, what totaly awsome excelent advice... Not!" This comment exemplifies a phenomenon on the internet that I am getting sick of seing.
Some people take things waaaaay too seriously. Especially on the internet, where it seems like people who would ordinarily be calm and exercise more self restraint in real life become extraordinarily arrogant. I don't know this "Marasa" gentleman, but his internet persona indicates to me that he is desperate for people to think he is smart and becomes deeply offended when anyone disagrees with him with any kind of intelligent response.
The reason I don't really read blogs or bulletin boards (other than those technical posts directly related to my profession) is because I get sick of just how assertive people are with their own opinions on the internet no matter how mundane the opinions are, as if their own life is so boring that they have to resort to the internet to make their opinions matter.
This comment from Marasa was self-indulgent and way out of line. I don't know the man, but I would guess that he has nothing better to do, so he picks fights over the internet. As if he really needs to give anyone "good" advice.
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