This film is practically the definition of diminishing returns. On a first viewing, one is caught up in its breezy, snappy fun. Under closer inspection, the film's confusion about how much of itself to lampoon is much more noticeable. Once the gags are predictable, the result is a conventional, inexpressive thriller occasionally punctuated with a little pluck. High notes are sung here and there, such as Harry's subtle(r) indications of male guilt when responding to the sexualized female being (not form, keep in mind). This is more or less what makes the movie worth watching (also, it's pretty funny when it's not being painfully obvious), though I cannot tell how much of its blatant homosteria is loving (I'm not sure bromances are allowed to be homophobic, which is why I wonder). It is unfortunate that one of the more graceful of Harry's motions (the making-modest of a female corpse) is commodified by its detailing a last-minute plot revelation. This function of conventional form over character undoes much of the picture's strengths, as it doesn't seem like it acknowledges the limits to which its satire can perform (the first act reel-pausing expository flashes are a drag, then when they stop, it's just confusing). Sadly, I must admit to a feeling of exhaustion at Downey Jr.'s off-the-cuff schtick as it pertains to the vehicle of Shane Black's narrative. Despite it being one of the best things about the film, it is misappropriated. In terms of his role in The Singing Detective, where DJ's baggage combines with his actorly wit to create a truly complex character, I'm thinking that carte blanche (unmitigated Downey Factor™), fun as it is, should probably be curbed. However, compared to his tragically bland turn in Iron Man, it is a palette cleanser. So I guess there's that. Mostly I blame Black's lack of imagination (the gay guy likes Xanadu! har! har!).
Monday, January 19, 2009
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
This film is practically the definition of diminishing returns. On a first viewing, one is caught up in its breezy, snappy fun. Under closer inspection, the film's confusion about how much of itself to lampoon is much more noticeable. Once the gags are predictable, the result is a conventional, inexpressive thriller occasionally punctuated with a little pluck. High notes are sung here and there, such as Harry's subtle(r) indications of male guilt when responding to the sexualized female being (not form, keep in mind). This is more or less what makes the movie worth watching (also, it's pretty funny when it's not being painfully obvious), though I cannot tell how much of its blatant homosteria is loving (I'm not sure bromances are allowed to be homophobic, which is why I wonder). It is unfortunate that one of the more graceful of Harry's motions (the making-modest of a female corpse) is commodified by its detailing a last-minute plot revelation. This function of conventional form over character undoes much of the picture's strengths, as it doesn't seem like it acknowledges the limits to which its satire can perform (the first act reel-pausing expository flashes are a drag, then when they stop, it's just confusing). Sadly, I must admit to a feeling of exhaustion at Downey Jr.'s off-the-cuff schtick as it pertains to the vehicle of Shane Black's narrative. Despite it being one of the best things about the film, it is misappropriated. In terms of his role in The Singing Detective, where DJ's baggage combines with his actorly wit to create a truly complex character, I'm thinking that carte blanche (unmitigated Downey Factor™), fun as it is, should probably be curbed. However, compared to his tragically bland turn in Iron Man, it is a palette cleanser. So I guess there's that. Mostly I blame Black's lack of imagination (the gay guy likes Xanadu! har! har!).
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Bummer, I quite liked this when I watched it. Though what you say makes sense. Gotta love that Val Kilmer.
ReplyDelete"the first act reel-pausing expository flashes are a drag, then when they stop, it's just confusing."
ReplyDeleteConcurred. One of the problems with many films with narrative gimmicks like this is that they're usually abandoned after the first act to clumsily return in the third, leaving the middle feel a little out of place and the entire thing more than a bit disjointed. I'd cite another example if I could call one to mind, but, I assure you, it's a thing.
It's a zippy and fun movie. I had my suspicions about its ability to sustain multiple viewings, as a lot of the joy I had in watching the picture was watching where it would adhere to formula, where it would deviate, and what early-nineties action films it would explicitly reference. Knowing those things now, I can't say I've got a lot of impetus to give it another 100 minutes.
Tropic Thunder is the best Robert Downey I've seen in a while. The movie itself was bad, but he was good.... too good.
ReplyDeleteThere's a professor at UVU that looks exactly like you. It's freaking me out.