Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (2016)

11. Nine Lives

When a filmmaker you like starts to consistently make bad movies, it raises a lot of questions. You start to wonder: Was this director ever good? Have they always been hacks? Were their successes flukes? Was their prior films entertaining only because they surrounded themselves with talent? Or did they loose something over the years, some spark they had once before? Is a maker of bad movies born bad or do they become that way over time? These are the questions I ask myself as I sit down to review “Nine Lives,” the notorious 2016 critical flop about sex pest Kevin Spacey being transformed into an adorable kitty cat. 

Tom Brand is a highly successful business mogul, prone to elaborate publicity stunts like parachuting out of an airplane into a press conference. His latest stunt is building the tallest tower in the Northern Hemisphere. Or, at least, it would be if a miscalculation hadn't left the building a few feet short. His devotion to his business has left Tom's wife and daughter, Lara and Rebecca, increasingly isolated from him. (As well as his adult son, David.) Little Rebecca desperately wants a cat for her birthday and, even though Tom hates cats, he complies. An accident involving the skyscraper's lightning rod, just after Tom purchases a cat named Mr. Fuzzy Pants, has him falling into a coma... His body anyway. Tom's mind awakens in Mr. Fuzzy Pants' pawed body. Now, if he hopes to return to his actual body, he has to prove his love to his wife and kids. 

In my review of “RV,” I noted that it was the second redemptive parent comedy Barry Sonnenfeld had directed. I wondered if this was a pattern. Looks like I was right, as “Nine Lives” is his third such story. Once again, we are presented with the tale of a father overly devoted to his work. Tom is so preoccupied with his job, that he seems to actively resent his wife and children most of the time. He's so clueless about his daughter's wants and needs that he got her a foosball table before getting her the cat she's been begging for. We are faced again with the story of a father learning to put aside his capitalistically oriented desires and make room for what's really important in life. I have to wonder, for the second time, if this plot device is so common that it's mere coincidence that Sonnenfeld made this type of story a third time. Or if something about this particular premise appeals to him on a personal level. 

It's possible I'm reading too much into this. In many ways, “Nine Lives” is the most underachieving of family comedies. It pairs the all-too-typical redemptive parent premise with the easiest of kids flick set-ups: Adorable animal shenanigans. I'd say at least half of “Nine Lives” is made up of Mr. Fuzzy Pants doing typically cute cat things. The most elaborate of which is standing on his paws and dancing with Rebecca. Because “Nine Lives” was a studio movie with more money than most cheapie animal-themed kids flicks, there's several shots of a CGI kitty performing acrobatic stunts. Like flipping through the air to bop someone on the head or falling from a tall height.

Obviously, feline antics such as these are designed to entertain only the most indiscriminating of film goers. There's the required gross-out gags of the cat peeing in places where an animal should not pee. (Amazingly, “Nine Lives” avoids any fur ball jokes.) At least the film doesn't resort to using creepy CGI to animate Mr. Fuzzy Pants' lips. Instead, Kevin Spacey merely provides voiceover narration over countless animal reaction shots. Yet, surprisingly, there is a certain amusement factor to these moments. A cat wryly commenting on the humans around him, unaware of his sarcastic thoughts, is literally just the premise of “Garfield...” But, if nothing else, it works better here than it did in the actual “Garfield” movies.

Of course, watching “Nine Lives” in 2021 is a slightly different experience than watching it in 2016. At the time of the movie's release,  Kevin Spacey's predatory sexual habits were only rumored and wouldn't be fully confirmed until about a year later. Seeing a two-time Oscar winner commit to the role of a quipping kitty cat was just extremely embarrassing at the time. Now, it's kind of creepy. Kevin Spacey's consciousness being allowed to roam a home, interacting with little children and young men, can't help but be uncomfortable now. This inevitably colors one's perception of “Nine Lives,” turning an innocent enough family movie into a slightly uncomfortable viewing experience. 

And yet, I am surprised to say I found myself almost liking “Nine Lives” at times. There's an important difference between this film and “RV.” In “RV,” the Munro family is basically rich. The dad was a low-level marketing exec and they could afford to go on a costly cross-country trip with no pressure. The implications of this was never interrogated or considered. In “Nine Lives,” the family is extremely rich. Tom refers to himself as the third richest man in New York City. The real third richest man in Manhattan is Rupert Murdoch, who is worth 20 billion dollars, to give you an idea of the character's wealth. Yet this movie is almost solely devoted to humiliating the billionaire patriarch, to continuously putting him in situations that challenge his “captain of industry” self-perception. The process of being turned into a kitty cat doesn't make him any less of a rich D-bag but at least he's getting some degree of punishment for his behavior.

Against all evidence otherwise, somehow, I ended up finding myself kind of invested in the sentimental side of this ridiculous film. In “RV,” everyone in the family treated each other terribly. In “Nine Lives,” Tom is the only one that acts in a generally selfish manner. His daughter is genuinely adorable and I couldn't stop myself from feeling a little sympathy for her. Once she becomes convinced her dad's soul is inside a house cat's body, “Nine Lives” takes on a perversely tragic element. Look at this from the mom's perspective. Her husband is in a coma and the only way her daughter can deal with the trauma of that is fixating on the last gift her father gave her, to the point where she literally believes the cat is her dad. If “Nine Lives” wasn't an underachieving kids flick, this set-up probably could've been explored in a deeper, more dramatic fashion. 

But, alas, “Nine Lives” is still an underachieving kids flick. This means, inevitably, it becomes more tedious than bizarrely entertaining. One of the movie's subplot involves an underling of Tom's attempting to steal the business from him, as he lingers in his coma. The guy, who is nothing but the most paper thin of bad guys, acts as if Tom's already dead and immediately sets about discarding his legacy. There are multiple scenes devoted to this subplot, with a missing contract even being a plot point. I really couldn't bring myself to care about any of this. Moreover, I can't imagine any of the kids this movie is ostensibly targeting at being interested in this stuff at all. 

Then again, is “Nine Lives” targeted at children? That seems to be an obvious enough assumption, considering the content of 90 percent of its run time. Yet this talking cat movie takes a weirdly morbid turn in its last act. Tom becomes increasingly certain that he will never awaken from his coma, that he's doomed to live out the rest of his life as Mr. Fuzzy Pants. David, seemingly, becomes so distraught at the idea of loosing his father's business that he apparently plans to commit suicide. Yeah, he climbs to the top of the skyscraper and prepares to throw himself off, his dad-cat observing all of this. It all ends up being the most contrived of misdirects but introducing the idea of suicide into a movie marketed towards seven-year-olds is fucking weird, to say the least. 

As I've said before, “Nine Lives” has a premise barely distinct from any number of ultra low-budget fair. Despite sounding potentially abreast with one of David DeCoteau's kiddie flicks, “Nine Lives” attracted a weirdly A-list cast. Aside from Spacey, the movie also features Jennifer Garner and Christopher Walken. Garner plays Tom's wife, a fairly non-spectacular role that could've been played by anyone. For what it's worth, Garner seems genuinely invested in the part and especially in her scene with Malina Weissman. Weissman plays the daughter and she gives a pretty cute performance. Go figure: A little girl enjoyed playing with a friendly cat. As for Walken, he plays a role very similar to his part in “Click,” as a weirdly omniscient deliver of justice to workaholic dads. Let it never be said that Christopher Walken isn't entertaining though and he manages to wring some low-key laughs via virtue solely of his trademark weirdo energy. 

I have no idea what attracted Barry Sonnenfeld to this material. The paycheck, probably. At the very least, he seems more invested here than in “RV.” His trademark acrobatic camera work is present, in sweeping shots around the city. Or in tracking shots as Mr. Fuzzy Pant sails down the side of a building. Also, I remain impressed that the movie managed to get a performance out of several house cats. Have you ever tried to train a house cat? It's impossible. This one rolls around on its back, jumps on cue, and looks adorable on-camera. Gotta give some props for that. I also have to give props for a last minute cameo from the late Lil' Bub, beloved internet cat video icon.

Ultimately, what else can be said about “Nine Lives?” It is the lamest of low-brow kid entertainment. At the same time, there's a bizarre value to this movie. Watching this level of talent, this recognizable of a cast, degrade themselves for such mediocre material is strangely fascinating. So is the weird back-and-forth between the movie's childish ideas and its sometimes morbid plot points. It's in no way a good movie. It's also not a so-bad-it's-good movie, producing few ironic laughs or moments of unintentional hilarity. Yet I don't entirely regret watching it and, in an odd way, it even sort of worked for me at times? Consider this the faintest of praise to damn with but: It's better than “RV.” It's not Barry Sonnenfeld's worst movie. [Grade: C]

At the other end of this retrospective, here's where I stand on Barry Sonnenfeld. Dude has still made some movies I really love. His “Addams Family” duo and the original “Men in Black” will always remain nostalgic favorites of mine. I even found myself defending some less well-loved corners of his career during this look back. Yet the guy has also made some really mediocre-to-terrible motion pictures. Considering the “Men in Black” franchise – his remaining ace-up-his-sleeve – has moved on, I don't know what the future of Sonnenfeld's career will be. He's written a well-regarded memoir and has gotten some work on TV. If he does direct another motion picture again, hopefully it'll be closer in quality to his earlier work than his latter-day material. 

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (2012)

10. Men in Black 3

My expectations for “Men in Black 3” were low. Even in 2012, ten years after the sequel, I still felt the sore disappointment of “Men in Black II.” The intervening decade, in which Will Smith starting making flops and Barry Sonnenfeld directed “RV.” did little to make me assume a third “Men in Black” would be any better. The general impression was that Sony greenlit the movie because they desperately needed a guaranteed blockbuster. Sonnenfeld was almost fired from the project before it even began. Squabbles about Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones' skyrocketing salaries filled the press. The film's production was awash in gossip and missteps, some of it revolving around Smith's ridiculous trailer. Filming stopped half-way through so they could rewrite half the movie. Lastly, the film was being released in 3-D, a fad that was dividing movie nerds at the time. Perhaps my expectations being so so low is why I ended up enjoying “Men in Black 3” upon first-viewing. Will I still feel that way on a second go around? Well, let's find out.

Agent Jay and Agent Kay of the Men in Black have been partners for fourteen years. In that time, Jay still feels like he doesn't really know his partner. After a seemingly standard night, Kay starts to behave very strangely. He learns that Boris the Animal, a notoriously evil alien he sent to prison in the sixties, has escaped. The next morning, Jay wakes up to see someone else is his partner. Nobody knows who Kay is... Until his new boss informs him that Kay died forty years ago. Jay learns that Boris traveled back in time to kill Kay in the past and to make Earth vulnerable to invasion. Jay goes back to 1969 to stop Boris, protect Kay, and make sure Earth is protected... Which is easier said than done.

Aside from being content to just repeat what worked the first time, “Men in Black II” failed because it was too focused on telling jokes. The sequel was so oppressively zany that any tension was drained out of the story. If nothing else, “Men in Black 3” is all too aware of these flaws. The plot involves a big bad from outer space chasing a tiny MacGuffin but doesn't follow the formula set out by the first two films so gratuitously. And while there are jokes, the movie never values humor more than telling an actual story. The stake of the world, and the characters we've grown attached to, are more important than yucking it up. That alone is enough to make the third movie a vast improvement over the second.

Something that was also appealing about the first “Men in Black” is, despite being a popcorn flick, it contained some heady ideas about man's place in the universe. The third installment returns to this ground, including really interesting conceptual ideas inside its crowd-pleasing structure. Some of these are barely seen. Boris the Animal's species seem to utilize organic technology, as their ships and his motorcycle are made from fleshy matter. A prominent character in the film is Griff, an alien that described as a “fifth dimensional being.” He can perceive every timeline that can happen as they are happening. He often describes the little miniature decisions that are made every day that have huge consequences. It's nothing that hasn't been done in sci-fi before but it's the kind of thing usually seen in 225 million dollar studio movies.

While there were certainly a lot of movies made to cash-in on the 3D fad of the last decade, “Men in Black 3” surprisingly isn't one of them. Barry Sonnenfeld incorporates his already motion-heavy visual style with the three-dimensional gimmick. This is most evident during the time jump sequence, where Jay falls endlessly through different eras. Sonnenfeld's camera swirls around a T-Rex's open maw, World War I biplanes, and shows towers being built. This visual playfulness is cooked into the action sequences. As Jay and the young Kay hop on monocycles, they swerve around moving vehicles. The setting of a rocket's launchpad adds extra dynamism to the finale, the camera passing through the interlocking beams. It looks great and is a lot of fun.

More than some serious tonal adjustments and a fun visual style, “Men in Black 3” finds a clever new angle for its story. We've only ever known Agent Kay as a stuffy veteran, an quasi-humorless old man that responds to everything with a been-there done-that attitude. The sequel gets a lot of mileage out of playing with that preconceived notion. In the past, we see certain things about Kay – his love of cowboy music, his grouchy gaze – are no different. Yet we also see him flirting with woman, recalling good times in the recent past, enjoying simple things. While the question of why Kay is the way he is was seemingly answered, because of the one that got away, it is interesting to see that the story is maybe a little more complicated than that.

There wasn't much else about “Men in Black II” that worked but, at the very least, it understood that the relationship between the leads was the big appeal of this series. The third installment smartly zeroes in on this even more. While talking about relationships, young Kay asks Jay if he had anyone he loved in his past life... Jay replies that he had Kay. Yes, like every buddy cop movie, this is a love story between two men. Jay literally goes back in time to save this man. Yet it's more wholesome than it sounds. Kay is re-contextualized as a father figure for Jay, who doesn't have a dad for very specific reasons. The exact details concerning that plot point are easy to guess and maybe even a little heavy-handed. Yet it's still nice that this sequel incorporates some heart into its story, making everything that happens a little more meaningful.

“Men in Black 3” utilizes its time travel premise in ways both fun and obvious. Yes, the shift in setting are utilized for obvious humor. Like seeing Jay and aliens interacting with hippies or other antiquated fashions. Or making the bad guy a long-haired biker. A moment involving Andy Warhol and the Factory is utilized for easy jokes too, including an unfortunately somewhat transphobic moment. Yet the time shift setting is better than expected too. A moment where Jay, a black man in 1969, runs into racist cops is surprisingly sharp and funny. Seeing how the MIB organization was different forty years prior, including giant Neuralizers and jet packs, is also amusing. 

I can't confirm this but it feels like a big reason why “Men in Black 3” followed a full decade after the second one is that neither of its leading men were eager to return. Well, maybe Will Smith but definitely not Tommy Lee Jones. The third film's premise seems designed around giving Jones as little screen time as possible. He seems tired and bored in most of his scenes, the actor clearly passed the point of giving a shit. Smith is still a magnetic star but his trick of reacting with shock and surprise to outrageous sights has definitely started to get a little stale. The guy was in his forties by the time he made this movie. You feel a little embarrassed that he still has to say “dayum!” or include the word “shiznit” in a sentence. 

Luckily, Josh Brolin is here to mix up the formula. Casting 42 year old Brolin as a twenty-something Kay is definitely off. However, Brolin makes it worth it because he does a perfect, hilarious impersonation of Jones' withering glare. He plays off of Smith just as well as Jones does and makes a convincing action hero in his own right. It's not the only prominent recasting. Zed is killed off, due to Rip Torn's very public meltdown, and Emma Thompson steps in as O, the new head of MIB. Thompson has a warmer quality than Torn but provides a similarly hilarious deadpan. (Alice Eve also gets one or two moment as the younger O.) Jermaine Clement, a genuinely hilarious comedian, is interestingly cast against type as Boris the Animal. Buried under elaborate make-up and adapting a guttural growl, he makes for a intimidating and interesting adversary.

There's a cool idea behind Boris too. Aliens of his race seem to be made from multiple scurrying lifeforms, which manifest as grasping claws and fingers from every limb. His anger at Kay for blowing off his left arm seems to stem from Boris' hands being independent creatures. This idea is beautifully conveyed via a combination of practical make-up and CGI. Computer graphics make up most of the aliens in the movie, as you'd probably expect for a movie made in 2012. Yet Rick Baker is still on-hand to create some alien lifeforms. Mostly delegated to the background, they all have retro designs, inspired by classic sci-fi flicks. See if you can spot the Saucermen and the Robot Monster. 

CGI taking precedence over practical effects was, sadly, the state of affairs by 2012. Something else that was unavoidably in the past by this point in history was Will Smith doing goofy theme songs for his movie. There was no “(I Am) Legendary” or “Seven Pounds (Whole Lotta Heart.)” Smith passes that duty over to Pitbull. Like Smith's theme songs, Pitbull's “Back in Time” is built around an obvious sample. Pitbull's rhymes are less amusingly stiff than Smith's and prove just kind of boring. The theme song is forgetful but Danny Elfman contributes another memorable score. He reprises the original “Men in Black” themes but adds some rock guitar to the mix, fitting the retro setting. 

In conclusion: “Men in Black 3” is actually pretty good. I was not the only person to think so, as the reviews were surprisingly positive. Is “Men in Black 3” far more clever than you'd expect from the third entry in a long-in-tooth series? Or did the second movie really just set everyone's expectations that low? Either way, I did finish the movie with a big smile on my face. Though it grossed less than either of the previous entries in the U.S., “MIB3” did its job for Sony by being a massive money-maker worldwide. If this is destined to be the final entry in the original series, it takes Agent Jay and Kay off on a decent little note. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (2006)

9. RV

Throughout the thirteen years I've been writing these Director Report Card reviews, I've found myself writing about some dire films. Occasionally, I'll find myself talking about a director who has made a handful of movies I really like, that I really want to talk about. And, sometimes, these same filmmakers have also directed a bunch of mediocre dross. I like to think that examining a director that has really high highs and abysmal lows teaches you something about the movie industry. About failure and compromise and complications. This is me looking on the bright side of Barry Sonnenfeld's ninth outing, “RV,” a wretched excuse of a family comedy. 

Once upon a time, Bob Munro was a happy family man. His daughter, Cassie, adored him. His son, Carl, looked up to him. His wife, Jamie, loved him dearly. Now Cassie is an obnoxious teenager who resents her father. Carl is a wannabe hip-hop kid who thinks his dad is lame. Jamie now believes Bob, a low-ranking executive at a soda company, works too much. That's all suppose to change on the big vacation to Hawaii the family has planned. A snag soon emerges. Bob's backbiting boss, who is plotting to replace him, insists Bob come to a potential merger with another company. Bob cancels the Hawaiian vacation and cooks up a scheme: He rents an RV and takes the family across country, a vacation that is actually a work trip in disguise. This goes horribly wrong.

Watching “RV,” I was desperate to latch onto something interesting about it. There's not a lot but one thing did stick out to me. In Sonnenfeld's “Big Trouble,” the protagonist had a teenage son who didn't respect him. By the conclusion of the movie, after going on this wacky adventure, parent and child discovered a newfound appreciation for one another. In “RV,” the protagonist has a teenage daughter who doesn't respect him. After another wacky adventure, parent and child similarly resume a close relationship. I know little about Barry Sonnenfeld's personal life. I don't even know if he's married, much less has kids. But is it possible he's inserting a pet theme, playing out some difficult parenting issues with his own offspring through these movies? Or are subplots about mediocre white guys with smart-ass teenage kids just an incredibly common element of middling studio comedies?

I'm more inclined to believe the latter. As a nineties kid who consumed a lot of forgettable family comedies in my childhood, I'm very familiar with a particular story element. Nathan Rabin calls them the “parenthood redemption comedy.” It's when a dad is focusing so much on his job, that he looses track of what matters most in life: The love of his family and especially his kids. This is such a common trope that “RV” isn't even the first Robin Williams movie to feature it. Never mind that, in real life, parents work a lot specifically so they can make sure their children are taken care of. Movies like this don't have time to actually consider the ramifications of real world responsibility. They are too busy mining real life conflicts for the laziest fictional conflicts imaginable.

What makes “RV's” supposed focus on the love between a father and his children seem especially insincere is that the Munro family is terrible to each other. From the second scene, Bob and Cassie are sniping at each other. She says hateful things to her dad and he, in turn, mutters passive-aggressive responses under his breath. The son is obsessed with rap and weight-lifting to the exclusion of everything else. Even husband and wife have a spiteful relationship, Bob lying to his wife in ridiculous ways while Jamie clearly treats her husband like he's an idiot. This is not a cute, funny family that really loves each other despite their differences. This is a band of people who greatly resent each other, who make no attempt to disguise their pure dislike for one another. 

The reason the Munro family is so toxic is because “RV's” world is one defined solely by contempt. All the characters in this movie hate each other. The movie hates all of them in turn. Every person here is terrible. Look at the Gornicke, the (seemingly) white trash family the Munros keep running into on their journey. They do shit like put people they've just met in headlocks or think shooting paintballs at a moving vehicle is a good way to get someone's attention. They are terrible but the way Bob and his family treats them in return – saying mean-spirited comments to them under his breath seconds after meeting, actively going out of their way to avoid them – seems disproportional. That's just the universe “RV” exists in, where everybody is awful to everyone all the time.

“RV' shows its seething misanthropy for all living matter in another way. On more than one occasion, the movie deploys graphic gross-out gags. The biggest of which is an absolutely vile sequence built around draining the RV's septic tank. When Bob discovers he doesn't have the right tubes for the job, a gang of redneck morons – another hateful stereotype – appear to “help” him. The joke goes on and on, more liquid shit spurting on-screen until it's literally raining from the sky. Robin Williams is splattered with poop, a sight absolutely no one should be exposed to. This is only the most notable example of “RV's” grotesque streak. There's also a joke about eating organ meat that climaxes with deer carcasses on-screen. I'm not against gross-out gags in movie but they need to be deployed with some wit or absurdity. Just tossing shit and entrails around produces nothing but repulsion. 

In some form, I suppose, “RV's” bathroom humor is indicative of a desire to be a big, wacky, live-action cartoon. There are many other jokes in this vein. Such as the RV smashing into a stone mailbox and a line of shopping carts. Or Bob riding a bicycle down a rough hillside until he smashes into a moving vehicle. This kind of humor can work, with some grace or conviction behind it, but “RV” just throws even bigger, uglier slapstick at us. Such as a scene where Bob wrestles with a group of wild raccoons in the RV, off-screen. Or the film's centerpiece, a long sequence devoted to Bob dangling off the RV as it rolls through the countryside. These jokes come off as sweaty, so desperate to make people light, so completely devoid of any intelligence. Smashing Robin William's face repeatedly into a windshield, with no meaning or timing behind it, is as bad as showering him with fecal matter. 

The only thing worst than a big, stupid “family-friendly” comedy – that just shovels shit and crappy slapstick at the viewer – is when those same films almost inevitably have a totally unearned sentimental side. Despite existing in a world that focuses on hate and humiliation, despite showing how the main characters all resent and dislike each other, “RV” tries to have it both ways. Half-way through the movie, Bob's wife and kids realize his road trip – which has been utterly hellish – actually isn't so bad. They actually start to have fun. They then start to treat each other will love and respect. Fuck you, movie. No. You can't spend 45 minutes in unrelenting horribleness and then swerve wildly in the whole other directions after that. That is insincere at most and disgustingly cynical at worst.

Since his very sad passing, Robin Williams has been re-evaluated and he's now a beloved figure for the countless laughs he gifted several generations with. But before that, in the twilight of his career, Robin Williams starred in a whole string of middling-to-terrible movies. “RV” is born of this era, this time of “License to Wed” and “Old Dogs.” These films underestimated Williams' greatest talents, his boundless energy and hyper-verbal delivery, by shackling him to boring characters and having him do big, terrible physical comedy. He tries. Like when a heart-to-heart with his son includes a mention of a “father/son extreme fighting duo.” But, too often, he's forced to do humiliating shit like rattle off a string of mangled hip-hop slang. It's depressing to watch someone so talented forced to perform material like this.

Despite its many, many flaws, “RV” is still a Barry Sonnenfeld film. So you can count on two things. The first of which is that it has a strong supporting cast. Jeff Daniels plays the patriarch of the Gornicke clan. Daniels apparently took the role due to his real life enthusiasm for recreational vehicles and banjo music. He seems visibly happy when singing and playing. Kristin Chenowith shows a similarly boundless, some might say over-the-top, comedic energy as his wife. Cheryl Hines is, if nothing else, totally believable as a spoiled suburban wife who not-so-secretly resents her husband. It's also notable that Joanna Levesque and Josh Hutcherson – otherwise known as tween pop star JoJo and the other guy from “The Hunger Games” – play the Munro kids. Neither show much in the way of charisma or comedic timing but it did amuse me how obviously Levesque was cast for her resemblance to Lindsay Lohan.

The second way you can tell this is a Barry Sonnenfeld movie is the use of the moving camera. Being a depressingly blunt movie, the director's visual style bends in a very obvious, sometimes intrusive manner. There's a long tracking shot through the interior of the RV during one key moment. On at least two other occasions, there are ugly crash-zooms on Williams' face to help convey his shock. A moment when Bob effortlessly rides a bicycle out of a lake is another example of Sonnenfeld's talent for putting absurd visuals on-screen in an unblinking matter. It's the sole laugh in the movie. 

I don't know why this director made this movie. Still having the lingering stink of “Wild Wild West” on your resume, and being happy to take whatever work you are offered, presumably had something to do with it. Perhaps the director and its star were all-too-aware of how lackluster “RV's” script. Maybe there was this hope that they could turn it into something worthwhile. I don't know. Why does any movie made by clearly talented people turn out bad? “RV” earned negative reviews but they were not scorching. Instead, most critics dismissed it as a mere mediocrity. I guess I have less tolerance for this kind of bullshit. “RV” is an absolutely hateful garbage bag of a movie that I despise fully and deeply. [Grade: F]

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (2002)

8. Men in Black II

The one-two punch of “Wild Wild West's” disastrous reception and “Big Trouble” getting buried for unforeseeable reasons probably should've destroyed Barry Sonnenfeld's directional prospects. In retrospect, it's clear that his career never entirely recovered. Yet Sonnenfeld had one ace left up his sleeve: A sequel to “Men in Black,” his biggest hit and one of the most iconic blockbusters of the nineties. After all, Will Smith had become one of the biggest movie stars in the world since 1997. That factoid is probably why it took five years to get “Men in Black II” made, on account of its leading man being so much in demand. (Tommy Lee Jones was pretty busy too, I suppose.) “Men in Black II” finally came out in 2002/

Five long years have passed since the end of “Men in Black.” Agent J has gone from a rookie to one of the organization's most respected agents. He's also gone through several partners, having trouble finding a personality that compliments him. After letting his latest partner go, an insidious alien threat named Serleena arrives on Earth. Serleena is in search of the Light, a massive source of power, that she chased to Earth twenty years earlier. Agent K supposedly sent the Light to another world but he secretly kept it here. Agent J has to find his former partner and De-Neuralyzer him, to find the Light and keep it out of Serleena's tentacles. At the same time, Jay starts to develop feelings for Laura, the sole witness to Serleena's arrival. 

As I said previously, “Men in Black” was one of my favorite movies as a kid. It's one of the first movies I can recall were I eagerly anticipated a sequel. The first film obviously ended by setting up more adventures. I can actually recall writing and drawing little comic books showing the further adventures of Agent J and Agent L. There's a small “Men in Black” extended universe that fed my interest in a continuing story as a kid, including an above-average cartoon adaptation, some more comics, and even a theme park ride. Yet a new movie is what I really wanted. When “MIB II” finally arrived, it was not what my young mind was hoping for. First off, Elle was nowhere to be seen. (Supposedly because Tommy Lee Jones hated working with Linda Fiorentino.) Secondly, I found the story and humor underwhelming. My memory of “Men in Black II” is largely negative, to the point where I wasn't sure how I'd feel about revisiting it.

As a younger man, my biggest complaint with “Men in Black II” is that it felt like a lazy rehash of the original. Instead of further exploring the world and cast set up at the end of the first film, the sequel lazily flips the dynamics of the original. Agent Jay is now the grizzled veteran while Agent Kay, with his wiped memory, is the rookie. The plot is extremely similar, as both movies are about an alien villain seeking a small but incredible potent power source. Both movies even end on the exact same gag, with the reveal that our world is just a small part of a massive universe. Moreover, the film indulges in one of my biggest pet peeves about sequels: It undoes the character development the first film completed. By bringing Agent Kay back into MIB, it completely undoes the natural conclusion to his story we saw last time. It makes you feel like you've been cheated. That the writers and filmmakers were too lazy to think of anything better.

Yet even this is not the biggest problem with “Men in Black II.” “Men in Black” was a funny movie but its humor largely evolved out of the interactions between the characters. The sequel, meanwhile, goes out of its way to get laughs. We have big, goofy gags like Zed backflipping through the air or Kay having a secret arsenal of weapons hidden in a random family's home. The sequel's overbearing approach to comedy is apparent in several aspects. The first of which is the decision to turn brief, one-off gags in the first movie –  Frank the Pug and the Worm Guys – into major supporting characters. Frank puts on a little suit and sings along to pop songs, which feels like something out of a kid's movie. The Worms, meanwhile, get a worm-sized bachelor pad and join the heroes on the climatic adventure. It really bugs me that the Worms speak English, when the original joke was that Kay and Zed understood them even though they spoke an alien language.

Yet I sort of get it. The cartoon show developed Frank, the Worms, and Jeebs – whose exploding head also returns here – into full-blown supporting characters. The first movie gave us peeks at a bigger world, so it's naturally we'd want to see more of it. That the sequel brought these elements back isn't the problem. It's that the sequel prioritizes laughs over anything else. Almost all of the film's characters are farcical. Serleena gets an annoying comic relief sidekick. Whether it be Frank, the Worm Guys, or somebody else, everyone in this movie is making jokes all the time. It keeps any serious tension from ever developing. “Men in Black” was funny but you still felt the fate of the world was at stake. How can we be concerned about the apocalypse when there's shit like an alien with balls dangling off his chin in the movie?  How can we care about what's happening when there's a locker full of miniature alien porn addicts or a Michael Jackson cameo? (Who apparently missed that the same director made a joke at his expense in "Addams Family Values.") 

The sequel's wild shift in tone is not just evident in its overbearing jokes. The practical creature effects in the original “Men in Black” were incredible. Rick Baker – who gets a cameo – and his studio returns to create more extraterrestrials. Yet the aliens are far goofier looking than before. Not just the Ballchinian or the guy who looks like dog shit. We see exaggerated looking bird-people, who look more like cartoon characters than alien lifeforms. The visitors we meet in Kay's post-office have big expressive eyes and goofy faces. Baker's effects are still incredible but the sillier designs point towards the overall lack of tension. (The scaly faced “Hideous Sun Demon” lookalike is the only design that really sticks out to me.) The sequel also relies more on CGI than its predecessor. Like Serleena's tentacles or Geoff, the giant subterranean worm. Both of which look pretty mediocre, then and now. 

As much as I dislike “Men in Black II” bringing Kay out of retirement, I get it. The original succeeded because of Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones' chemistry. Would audiences have even shown up for a sequel without both of them? The script tries to finagle a proper character arc out of this return. We learn that Kay was in love with the keeper of the Light but he had to give her up. Jay, similarly, has to give up the woman he loves for the fate of the world. Exploring the idea that a Man in Black, by the job's nature, has to completely unplug from all relationships is an interesting one. After all, we didn't learn anything about Jay's personal life in the first movie. That their partnership is the closest thing to a real relationship either can get. Yet it still feels like an unnatural, desperate attempt to turn nothing into something... And I'm still annoyed by the reveal that Kay's wife left him off-screen. That feels like the happy ending of the first movie invalidated.

Further evidence that “Men in Black II” doesn't take itself nearly as seriously as the original is its villain. Edgar the Bug was occasionally a source of dark humor in the first movie. Ultimately, he was a threatening, frightening presence. The sequel doubles-down on sex appeal, instead of fear factor. Serleena is a mass of squirming alien vines, which isn't the worst idea for a villain. She takes the form of a lingerie model and, unlike the decomposing Edgar, stays glamorous throughout most of the movie. Lara Flynn Boyle – a last minute replacement for Famke Janssen – gives an unengaged, bored performance as the villainess. The sequel is seemingly aware of how lame its main threat is, as it includes a number of sub-bosses. Like an incredibly annoying Johnny Knoxville, made all the more annoying because of his shitty CGI second head. Or a murderous robot that looks like a trash can and another goofy-looking creature named Jarra. 

Even this far into his career, you can still see Barry Sonnenfeld indulging in some of his favorite visual quirks. Like those fast-paced tracking shots. This is most obvious in the various action sequences. Such as when Jay is riding on the back of the aforementioned giant worm. Or even more-so when a supporting villain zips around a room, in a series of small flying saucers. Watching these tiny UFOs fly through the air reminded me of the magnetic buzz saw scene in “Wild Wild West,” and I mean that as a compliment actually. I wish there was more of that stuff, honestly, as “Men in Black II” doesn't feel as visually distinctive as the original or Sonnenfeld's other films.

Mostly, “Men in Black II” just kind of washes over me in a mediocre wave, few of its elements sticking in my memory in any way. The few times the sequel gets me to laugh is owed almost entirely to its leading men's chemistry. Will Smith still has a way with a baffled one-liner. The way he mumbles through a sarcastic memory about being “flushed” to Kay, or his words to Laura when introducing her to the Worm Guys, actually get me to laugh. This may just be because Smith is a genuinely funny guy. Similarly, Tommy Lee Jones' withering glare and deadpan reactions still manage to amuse. When he meets Frank the Pug again or learns that Jeeb's head is going to grow back, that made me chuckle. It's not the belly laughs of the original but these moments stick out in a largely laughless sequel.

The only new addition to the “Men in Black” universe that I actually liked was Rosario Dawson as Laura. It's not that Laura is an especially deep character. Agent Jay falls in love with her over the course of one scene, when she says a single line of dialogue that touches him. The sequel tries to build a whole emotional arc around this, which doesn't really work. But it almost works, exactly because Dawson is so effortlessly charming. She's so good that she even has strong chemistry with the rubber, latex, and CGI that makes up the Worm Guys. And for what it's worth, Patrick Warburton is also mildly amusing as Jay's short-lived new partner in the first scene. 

There was obviously demand for “Men in Black II,” if only because there was people out there like me who loved the first one. Yet you get the sense that nobody really wanted to make this sequel. The script is largely lazy and uninspired and the tone is all wrong. I suppose the leading men are still relatively engaged but they definitely don't have the freshness we saw in the first one. Even Will Smith's stupid theme song feels utterly phoned-in and tossed-off. “Nod ya head” is really the best hook you could come up with, Fresh Prince? The sequel was still a sizable hit but it noticeably grossed about a 100 million dollars less than the original, suggesting audiences weren't especially enthused either. “Men in Black II” sucks a little less than I remember but possibly because I was so disappointed in it initially. It's watchable, I suppose, but still represents an incredibly wasted amount of potential. [Grade: C-] 

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (2001)

7. Big Trouble

In the aftermath of a failure like “Wild Wild West,” Barry Sonnenfeld was probably eager to get back to his roots. No, not cinematography. I'm talking about mid-budget ensemble comedies. “Big Trouble” would be a comedy with lots of familiar faces but no superstars, with lots of wackiness going on, based on a novel from popular humorist Dave Berry. Sonnenfeld even brought the movie in a million dollars under-budget. This was no doubt a deliberate message to the studio that, after the runaway spending on his last movie, he could still operate on a tight budget. Sadly, bad luck would strike Sonnenfled's again. “Big Trouble,” a comedy about smuggling a bomb onto an airplane, was scheduled to come out in September... Of 2001. After the obvious happened, the movie was pushed back seven months and dropped into theaters with zero advertising, where it was obviously ignored. 

Eliot Arnold is an award-winning journalist who, after putting his foot through his boss' computer, is now running a failing ad agency. His son, Matt, is wrapped up in a game of “Killer” – tag with squirt guns – and sneaks into the home of Jenny Herk to spray her. The same night, a mob hitman has been hired to kill Jenny's dad, Arthur, a corporate man who has embezzled from his company. The attempt fails but it does cause Eliot to meet Arthur's wife, Anna. The two quickly hit it off. Arthur goes to buy a weapon from Russian arms dealers working out of a bar but purchases a suitcase nuke instead. After a pair of idiotic thugs break into the bar, a convoluted series of events drags all these characters – plus a cop crushed on his coworker, a tree-dwelling hippy, the religious family maid, a hallucinogen squirting toad, and a pair of FBI agents on the trail of the bomb – into a plot that concludes with the nuke on an airplane. 

“Big Trouble” is a movie that is almost self-conscious in its wackiness. Eliot narrates most of the film in a very knowingly smarmy, perhaps even smug, tone. It's a movie packed front-to-back with wacky characters or outrageous events. If they aren't a straight man dryly responding to events, seemingly every cast members is given a personality quirk to define them. Puggy, the aforementioned tree dwelling hippy, fixates on Fritos. Arthur has a disgusting foot fetish. The mob assassin hates people who smoke cigars in fancy restaurants. One of the FBI agents knows a lot of trivia about foreign countries, which he attributes to watching a lot of Discovery or Travel Channel. So on and so forth. “Big Trouble” is a movie that wants desperately to be funny and frontloads with as much wackiness as possible.

Despite how desperate that approach sounds, the results end up actually being pretty amusing. “Big Trouble” generates a lot of laughs. Some of these gags work well because they are a little more subtle than the movie's bigger yuks. Like a running joke about Florida Gator fans, constantly bickering on talk radio in the background. Or Nina, the aforementioned highly religious maid, becoming infatuated with Puggy because she mistakes him for Jesus while in a daze. At the same time, the movie's big and wacky gags work pretty well sometimes too. Like Arthur, under the effects of the toad's psychotropics, seeing Martha Stewart's face on the family dog's head. (Perhaps that gag works because “Big Trouble” really commits to the joke and got Stewart to play herself.) Or the sudden appearance of goats all throughout the last third, a set-up the movie successfully keeps returning to.

“Big Trouble” has been compared to “Get Shorty,” in that both of them follow a divergent cast of characters. Yet this film manages to do a better job of making those individual subplots work and is also more successful in bringing them together in a satisfying way. If someone shows up in “Big Trouble” once, odds are good they will appear again. Even Eliot's belligerent employer shows up again at the climax. The chance of fate that brings the idiot thugs back to the bar, just as Arthur is buying a weapon, is well executed. As is the contrivances that lead to Eliot and his son being in the house at the same time as the home invasion goes down. It's actually kind of impressive how the movie never looses the audience, how the viewer always remembers who all the characters are, where they're going in the story, and what their deal is. 

Another thing that keeps “Big Trouble” from spinning off into incoherence is the thematic layers connecting its various subplots. This is a movie, in ways subtle and obvious, that is all about sex. The male police officer becomes enamored of his no-nonsense female coworker after her frilly bra is revealed during a scuffle with a criminal. He constantly awkwardly interrupts their job to discuss the matter. Later, he also becomes distracted by a busty witness. Arthur and Anna's relationship is dying, largely because of her husband's nasty foot fixation, which is why he starts to creep on the maid. Anna is immediately attracted to Eliot, the two quickly tumbling into each other's arms. The sexual connotations in Matt shooting Jenny with a squirt-gun are constantly brought up and seem to speak to the sexual tension between the two teens. (She tells him more than once not to look at her ass, which obviously causes the teenage boy to look at her ass.)  

It's in every little corner of the movie. A dog thrusts its face into people's crotches. Porn-y aerobics shows are frequently spotted in the background. Eliot's employer demands the beer ad he ordered contain a big-titted blonde and the promise of getting laid. The mood of sexual frustration is such that mundane objects frequently take on a provocative tone. The mob hitman never successfully carries out his hit, his gun always misfiring. Is this pseudo-erectile dysfunction why he later becomes so angry at cigars? What about Eliot's attempt to be a big hero backfiring when the squirt gun he's disguised as a real gun starts to dribble? Is that a symbolic premature ejaculation? Does this bubbling subtext explain why the bad guy has a look of heavenly joy on his face before the symbolic orgasm of a white hot nuclear explosion? It would certainly explain a lot.

“Big Trouble's” linking with 9/11 is truly unfortunate. In many weird ways, this little movie defines both the era of filmmaking directly before and immediately after the tragedy. There's a minor joke about George W. Bush, that references his wannabe cowboy act. That was the main aspect that defined the president before September 11th changed everything for the world, this country, and that administration. At the same time, the subplot about FBI agents who overstep the boundaries of their office, shooting feet and breaking fingers all in the name of “protecting” America, feels eerily reminiscent of the Patriot Act era that began shortly after the movie's original release date. Suitcase nukes and dirty bombs were also something that wasn't really on anyone's mind much before 9/11 that came to dominate the news-cycle afterwards. I guess the point I'm making is that “Big Trouble” accidentally captured a snapshot of America just before it changed forever. 

That bomb, jokingly referred to as a resembling a garbage disposal throughout the film, ends up providing a ticking time limit for the final act. After the bomb is smuggled through airport security – something that definitely wouldn't have been possible a year later – it is flicked on. After that, the forty minute timer, always ticking down, appears on-screen several times. A narrative device like this is always a good way to provide more tension to a story. Considering “Big Trouble” is a comedy, that just causes the movie's madcap tone to escalate more. Which is actually exactly what you want from a movie as wacky as this. 

Another thing distinctly marking “Big Trouble” as a product of pre-9/11 2001 is that it's a starring role for Tim Allen. As an actor, Allen is a perfectly suitable middlebrow white guy, just charismatic enough to not be a total bore. But he's definitely the least interesting character and performer in a movie full of memorable actors. And it doesn't help that Eliot has a totally blasé middle-age white guy kind of character arc too. He's dissatisfied with his work. He thinks his son doesn't respect him. (Probably because his son says he doesn't respect him.) The adventure throughout the film gives him the angle he needs to find work as a journalist again and proves to his boy that he's actually cool. Forgettable stuff.

Luckily, “Big Trouble” has a stacked supporting cast to make up for its stock-parts leading man. Rene Russo gets to go delightfully over-the-top as Anna Herk, displaying a previously unseen talent for slapstick comedy. Stanley Tucci, similarly, plays Arthur as a grotesquely selfish and rotten person, Tucci making such behavior theatrically entertaining. Ben Foster, long before he became a recognizable name, has a fittingly sarcastic attitude as Eliot's son, that plays well off of Allen's delivery. Zooey Deschanel, also long before she became a star and sans her iconic black bangs, plays Jenny Jerk. Deschanel's dry delivery is especially amusing. Tom Sizemore is cast extremely to type as Snake, the dumb-ass criminal that inadvertently cooks up the bombing plot. Sizemore really commits to playing an imbecile,  something Johnny Knoxville as his sidekick leans into even more. 

Dennis Farina, reappearing from “Get Shorty,” adds a likable neurotic edge to his usual Mafiso tough guy act. Janeane Garofalo, also playing to type as a sarcastic straight woman surrounded by chaos, also gets a few good quibs off. Patrick Warburton, as is usually the case, is a highlight as the horny cop. Warburton's ability to turn a dumb, even potentially annoying, character into a likable doofus can never be understated. Jason Lee is also well utilized as Puggy, bringing a child-like wide-eyed quality to the role. Sofia Vergara, another performer appearing before they became more famous, plays off him nicely. Andy Richter gets a few stray laughs as an alcoholic security guard. (Though not so much in his second role as an airport security guard.) Lastly, Heavy D and Omar Epps are amusingly deadpan as the FBI agents. 

I have no idea how “Big Trouble” would have been received if September 11th, 2001 had ended up just being another day. It's a consistently amusing comedy that has some interesting touches. It's over quickly enough, leaves you with a bit of a smile, but doesn't linger in the brain too long afterwards. Maybe it would've connected with audiences and made a decent amount at the box office. Instead, the movie wound up buried, almost totally forgotten save for the unfortunate circumstances of its release. I was happy to see that the movie was a little better than I recalled. If you go in with reasonably measured expectations, perhaps you'll enjoy it too. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (1999)

6. Wild Wild West

In the sixties, the Western – the stalwart genre of American TV – was loosing ground to James Bond's televised off-spring. Writer Michael Garrison came up with the novel solution of combining the two ideas. “The Wild Wild West” essentially stuck “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” into the days of cowboys and Indians. By including era appropriate high-tech gadgets, the show accidentally brought steampunk to the masses. The series ran for four years, became a cult favorite, and replayed in re-runs often. In the nineties, movie studios sought to cash-in on audience's built-in fondness for old TV shows by adapting them to film. Someone had the idea to retrofit “The Wild Wild West” into a vehicle for Mel Gibson, with the “Lethal Weapon” team of Richard Donner and Shane Black reuniting behind the camera. When Gibson and Donner decided to adapt a different old western show instead, “Wild Wild West” was handed over to Barry Sonnenfeld and Will Smith. Sonnenfeld's “Addams Family” films were some of the best entries of the TV-to-film fad and “Men in Black” was a blockbuster, so the decision made sense at the time. The resulting film, however, was widely loathed and a box office disappointment. But here's the moment where you, the reader, loose all respect for me: I kind of like this movie. 

The year is 1869, President Grant is in the Oval Office, and America is still recovering from the wounds of the Civil War. Army Captain James West is on the trail of former Confederate General McGrath, who perpetuated a massacre on a village of freed slaves. McGrath is seemingly kidnapping top ranking American scientists for mysterious reasons. While investigating, West runs into U.S. marshal, inventor, and master of disguise Artemis Gordon. Grant forces the two combustible men to work together. They soon learn that McGrath is simply working for Dr. Arlis Loveless, a former Confederate who lost half his body in the war... And has replaced it with steam-power mechanics. Loveless has hatched a mad plot to take over America and only these two men, with the help of the supposed daughter of one of the missing scientists, can stop him.

“Wild Wild West” came out a mere two years after “Men in Black,” suggesting production began on the film the minute it was clear Sonnenfeld and Smith's first collaboration was a hit. This was clearly on everyone's mind as “Wild Wild West” is an obvious attempt to replicate “Men in Black's” success. Like that film, it takes the very familiar buddy cop set-up and applies a sci-fi coat of paint to it. Yet “Wild Wild West” is even more indebted to formula than Sonnenfeld's last stab at the genre. Jim West and Artemis Gordon bicker far more than Jay and Kay did, fitting the traditional roles of by-the-book expert and loose cannon rebel more closely. Their banter is more belligerent and their growth from enemies to friends more obvious. We even have the scene of their boss – the president, in this case – insisting they become partners, hoping their competing tendencies will mellow each other out. If “Men in Black” put a clever spin on the familiar premise, “Wild Wild West” is in dutiful servitude to it.

The adherence to buddy cop formula includes one of the unspoken rules of the subgenre: Barely contained homoeroticism. “Wild Wild West” is, in fact, all too aware of the gay subtext. West and Gordon are introduced while the latter is in drag. This leads to a later conversation, about the merits of Gordon's fake breasts design, causing a hilariously contrived discussion when heard out-of-context. Later, a scene involving magnetic collars concludes with West's face level with Gordon's belt buckle. Before the film's end, West gets in drag too. Honestly, it's almost delightful and kind of subversive how much “Wild Wild West” front-lines the queer element of this genre. (Even if it means the female characters are a causality of the overriding machismo, reduced to eye candy in fetish-y lingerie, schemers, prostitutes, or evil hench-women.)

This is not the only way “Wild Wild West” is either extremely dumb or surprisingly subversive. The use of a black protagonist in a western was not unheard of in 1999, thanks to a mini-wave of blaxploitation westerns in the seventies. Yet a 170 million dollar blockbuster in the late nineties addressing themes like racism and the legacy of slavery was practically unheard of. West is clearly traumatized by the violence and horrors he's endured. As he beats down Loveless, he's striking back at the entire history of black oppression in America. Yet don't give “Wild Wild West” too much credit for being “Django Unchained” before “Django Unchained” was a thing. It's handling of racial issues is clumsy, at best, as West and Loveless get into a childish name-calling contest every time they face each other. Whether this is a bold take-down of America's racist history or a clueless popcorn flick tastelessly fumbling over a sensitive topic is a matter of opinion. 

While its debatable how far ahead of the curve “Wild Wild West” was on creating a black hero, it was definitely ahead of the curve when it comes to steampunk. Twenty years later, steampunk officially got so big that it's played out now but “Wild Wild West” was one of the first major films to utilize the concept. It is, I think undeniably, the coolest thing about the film. Scenes were Gordon sups up his bone-shaker bicycle with a steam engine or the introduction of Loveless, in his steam-powered wheelchair, are very indicative of the style. While the behind-the-scenes reasons why it's in the movie have long since become a source of Hollywood legend, I'm going to admit this too: I actually really like the giant steam-powered spider. It's an amazing visual, beautifully brought to life via a combination of practical props, stop-motion, and CGI that still looks pretty good. Despite many reviewers referring to the giant spider's presence as nonsensical, it's actually what the entire movie is building up to. Loveless even builds himself a pair of hydraulic spider legs for himself. 

Compared to the absurd and sometimes dry humor well utilized in “Men in Black,” the comedy in “Wild Wild West” is much more aggressively goofy. Some sequences feel painfully wacky. Such as when Jim West first arrives on Gordon's gadget-laden train, the comedy getting too CGI heavy and too cartoonish. This is hardly the only time the wacky gadgets are utilized for overly broad comedy. Later, Will Smith springs into the air via a rubbery noose. The sequence that predates that moment, in which Smith desperately explains to a crowd of Southern gentleman why he drummed on a white lady's big titties, is more awkward than funny. The movie is certainly not above stupid, easy gags, such as when Smith kicks a cyborg henchmen in his jangling metallic balls. 

The dumb-ass humor is not the only thing about “Wild Wild West” that could accurately be criticized for being dumb. The script isn't exactly as sturdy as it could be. West and Gordon depend on blind luck too many times. The first scene has Smith getting on the trail of the bad guys because they happen to show up right under the water tower he's having sex in. Later, Gordon is led to the train tracks Loveless is using via a ultra-powerful magnet that randomly pulls him towards it. Later, West sneaks right into Loveless' lair by dressing in drag, a scheme that works out for him far too well. Probably the most random decision in the script is a moment where a giant henchman West is fighting just... Literally drops dead for no discernible reason at all. The writers – which included S.S. Wilson and Brent Maddock of “Tremors” fame, who claim their script was completely rewritten – clearly got themselves into a corner they couldn't escape there. 

The times when “Wild Wild West's” stupidity works is when it allows Will Smith and Kevin Kline to play off each other. The scene of the two feeling each other's fake boobs or trading ass puns while sleeping across from each other generate the biggest laughs. Kline's performance is one of extreme hamminess, going through the whole movie as a foppish dandy. Smith's performance, meanwhile, lacks much of the smart-ass energy that made Agent J likable. In fact, he largely plays Jim West as a macho asshole who whips his gun out at the smallest provocation. Yet, somehow, these two balance each other out more often than not. Kline screaming West's name to the heavens, their light banter while flying through the air, or Smith swinging a small knife around are stupid jokes... But they made me laugh, so I guess they work.

No matter the quality of the script, Sonnenfeld's films usually have fantastic supporting cast. This is also true of “Wild Wild West.” Kenneth Branagh affects an entertainingly ridiculous Southern accent as Loveless. He clearly enjoys hamming it up as a verbose supervillain prone to cartoonishly evil statements. Ted Levine plays a very Ted Levine-like part, as a hideous and sleazy Confederate soldier who sweats and grunts through his whole role. M. Emmet Walsh's ability to milk reaction shots for maximum humor is well-utilized as the train's engineer. (Punningly named “Coleman.”) Salma Hayek was clearly cast largely as eye candy, as she spends most of the movie is minimal clothing, but she tries her best to make the character a little more. It's clear that Rita is adapt at manipulating the spellbound men around her.

If nothing else positive can be said about “Wild Wild West,” let it be known that this is obviously a Barry Sonnenfeld movie. From early on, he utilizes a lot of his trademark moving camera. Such as when West is sliding along an improvised zip line. Or during the very first scene, when the camera takes the perspective of a flying buzz saw. When those saws return later in the film, it provides lots of similarly fluid camerawork. Sonnenfeld can't help but throw in a number of visual puns. Such as when a tank unloading on an army of men leaves giant bulls-eye pattern on the ground. Or when a puppy is introduced into a scene specifically to recreate the famous “His Master's Voice” painting. 

“Wild Wild West” was one of the most expensive movies ever made up to this point and that money is clearly on-screen. The sets, costumes, production design, and effects are all excellent. That extends to the music. Elmer Bernstein, a veteran of several iconic westerns, provides a properly rollicking score. He combines traditionally western-sounding themes with a more modern sound, reflecting the movie's content. In another naked attempt to recreate “Men in Black's” success, Will Smith also rapped a sample-heavy hip-hop theme song for the movie. Much like the “Men in Black” song, the “Wild Wild West” song is also extremely stupid and ridiculously catchy. (Though I'm completely incapable of hearing it without thinking of Neil Cicierega's hilarious evisceration.) 

From early on, the execs at Warner Brothers realized they had a bomb on their hands with this one. After limp test-screenings, a number of extremely costly reshoots were done but they did little to improve its outlook. By all reports, the entire cast hated making the movie and Will Smith has publicly apologized for it on several occasions. (He famously turned down “The Matrix” to star in this, which must sting.) By the time the movie arrived in theaters, the buzz was toxic. Critics were savage, audiences largely stayed away, and the movie swept the Razzies. The movie seems to broadcast its contempt to the audience, as one of the final shots is of a rock formation in the shape of a middle finger. It's only because of the international market, more immune to dumb-ass action flicks, that the film kept from being a nuclear-scale bomb. No re-evaluations have arrived and the movie continues to be a cinematic punching bag to this day. I guess you can just chalk it up to being a guilty pleasure on my behalf, though I hope I've made the case for this one being a little better than it's reputation suggests. Fuck it, I'm going to give this movie a positive score. If “Wild Wild West” is trash, look at me, I like trash. [Grade: B]

 

Director Report Card: Barry Sonnenfeld (1997)

5. Men in Black

In the 1990s, for whatever reason, there was a renewed interests in UFOs, alien abductions, and government conspiracies revolving around them. There's no doubt a number of interesting socioeconomic reasons for this but the internet – which gave cranks and weirdos a visible place to voice their opinions – coming to prominence was doubtlessly a big one. Whatever the reason, a lot of pop culture arose to cash-in on this newfound alien fever, with “The X-Files” being the most prominent example. A less famous example was Malibu Comic's “The Men in Black.” An obscure comic book inspired by real conspiracy theories, which had morally gray agents killing witnesses and fighting various extraterrestrial/supernatural threats, it only ran for six issues. But this was enough to catch the attention of Hollywood producers. Barry Sonnenfeld, who did a good job fusing special effects with comedy and lively direction in his “Addams Family” movies, was drafted to direct. The result would be one of the icon blockbusters of the decade. 

James Edwards is a smart-mouthed New York City cop. On one fateful night, he tracks a strange witness down and sees several things he can't explain. Afterwards, a man in black calling himself Agent K tracks Edwards down. He is drafted into a secret organization that regulates extraterrestrial travel to and from Earth. They are the Men in Black and Edwards – now known as Agent J – is the latest recruit. At the same time, a highly aggressive species of alien called a Bug crash lands on Earth. He arrives to kill alien royalty and gather a rare form of energy. If the destructive bug, walking around in the skin of a farmer named Edgar, finds “the Galaxy,” Earth will be destroyed to protect the rest of the universe. It's up to Jay and Kay, still navigating their new partnership, to stop the Bug, retrieve the Galaxy, and save the world.

It's easy to see why big movie studios were attracted to the “Men in Black” premise. Once you strip away the sci-fi/comedy combo – reminiscent of “Ghostbusters” – and then in-vogue UFO angle, it's essentially a buddy cop movie. The story is built around a grizzled old officer, who is used to doing things by the book, teaming up with a younger officer who is sarcastic and plays by his own rules. While they initially butt heads, they soon grow to love and respect each other. Granted, “Men in Black” is not a direct photocopy of earlier buddy cop successes. Kay is pretty sarcastic himself, just dryer. Jay is a fish-out-of-water on the force not just because he's rebellious but because he doesn't really know the rules at all. For the variations that are made, this is still a tried-and-true formula being sold here.

What really makes “Men in Black” a success is that the sci-fi angle is not just a gimmick dressing up a familiar story. It honestly features some of my favorite examples of world-building. Much like the viewer, Jay is thrust into this strange new world. We're experiencing everything for the first time just as he is. And he's stuck knee-deep into the film's setting without much preparation. The film never explains much about the various oddball aliens glimpsed in the background or in various minor roles. They just exist and the audience is left to make-up our own theories about them, based on the peeks we get at their personalities. Moreover, an alternate world is created within our own, secret and elaborate bases and personale hiding within our pre-existing social structures. (This is certainly helped along by more excellent production design.) It feels like a totally developed and inhabited universe.

I might be more willing to buy into “Men in Black's” fictional universe because I'm an easy mark for practical creature effects. This is the movie that taught me who Rick Baker was. From the opening scene, we are introduced to some fabulous creature. Such as Mikey, a many-flippered upright being with an awfully expressive body. Or the Worm Guys, talkative non-humanoids addicted to earthly vices. Even minor creatures – a pulsating and partially translucent worm nicknamed Grouchy, the many-stalked Bob and his unpronounceable brother – are unforgettable creations. The crowning achievement in the film is the dying Arquillian prince, a beautifully life-like little alien that seems utterly alive even as its will slips away. They are all so vividly brought to life and it goes a long way to crystallizing “Men in Black's” immersive world. 

The mixture of a crowd-pleasing set-up with a beautifully created world is just part of why “Men in Black” works so well. This might be a perfectly paced movie. The opening scene immediately sets up the premise, introducing what the Men in Black do as well as establishing Kay's dilemma. We slam right into Jay's introduction, showing us what he's about and what he's capable of.  From there, we begin his descent into the MIB world. That's as strong and concise a first act as anyone could ask for and, after that, we are off to the races. “Men in Black” quickly establishes its threat and escalates tension at all the right moments. A warning shot from the Arquillians provides a tight time limit for our last act, keeping the audience invested and excited up through the end. “Men in Black” immediately sucks you in and keeps you hooked throughout its runtime. (Which, compared to most bloated modern blockbusters, runs a tight 98 minutes.)

And it's not just simple mechanics and creativity that makes “Men in Black” good. The movie is more thoughtful than it gets credit for. Early on, Kay describes Earth as “like “Casablanca” without the Nazis.” In this film, Earth is depicted as a mixing pot of countless intergalactic cultures. (It's no mistake that the movie is set in New York City, one of America's most famously multicultural metropolises.) The Men in Black allows them to live, habitat, or just visit here with minimal interference. It's heavily implied that many of the alien visitors are refugees. The Arquellian prince's human life is obviously meant to invoke a Jewish immigrant starting his own business. This is a 90 million dollar Hollywood blockbuster hat is explicitly pro-immigration. The opening scene, set at the Mexican border, makes this point all too clear. Kay lets border-crossing workers into the country because it's no big deal, when you consider everything else the planet is dealing with on a daily basis. 

That this is the movie's opinion only makes sense within its wider logic. The thematic crux of the second half is that the smallest things can hold great importance. The movie pulls back even further in its final, reality-bending seconds. On a cosmic scale, we are a little thing. Earth, and all the humans on it, are but microscopic bits of matter spiraling through a universe of infinite size. Yet we matter, yet we make a difference. (Not to mention that a microscopic galaxy as a thermodynamic power source is a bitching far-out sci-fi concept.) It's all really interesting and almost enough to make you overlook the movie's at-times fascist set-up. That human nature is unavoidably fearful and omniscient, pseudo-military forces – that can control our very memory – ultimately know what is best for us as a species. It's either complicated or really dumb, depending on where you stand.

Perhaps popcorn flicks like this aren't meant to be read too deeply into. “Men in Black” is filled with lizard-brain thrills and that's largely thanks to its brilliant cast. Will Smith was an A-lister in the making in 1997. Hot off the heels of another alien-themed blockbuster, “Men in Black” would make him a superstar. While opinions on Smiths' merits as a performer have wavered over the years, he's perfect in “Men in Black.” His smart-ass wit is frequently hilarious, best displayed in the scene where he's recruited to the MIB. His explanation for his actions on the shooting range still cracks me up. His macho bravado in some scenes would be hard-to-handle if Smith wasn't clearly playing Jay as a tough-talking rookie utterly in over-his-head. No wonder it would make Smith a mega-star.

Moreover, Smith's quick-witted retorts play fantastically off Tommy Lee Jones' Kay. Jones is not the traditional straight man. He gets plenty of great jokes to himself. Such as his tendency to undermine Jay's attempts at bad-ass posturing. Jones' dead-pan delivery of utterly absurd moments, like tough-talking a dog or delivering the punchline of some obscure joke. Ultimately, it's his complete seen-it-all gruffness – an absolute strength of Jones – that makes Kay so funny. Jay is blown away by every new alien reveal but Kay got used to this shit decades ago. There's depth to the guy too, in a lost love story in his backstory. Maybe it's sappy but the way that is set-up, and then paid off on at the very end, always gets to me. I think the film earns that sentimental streak.

Really, the cast is strong all the way through. Vincent D'Onofrio commits with every fiber of his body to the role of The-Bug-in-the-Edgar-Suit. He twitches, spasmodically flails, and limps along all while barking in a gruff, grumbling voice and looking like a rotting corpse. The pure contempt for the human race he conveys is impressive. It's truly a masterclass in exaggerated mega-acting. If D'Onofrio goes way over-the-top as an unforgettable villain, much of the rest of the cast underplays it. Oh, not Tony Shalhoub as a delightfully twitchy, greasy intergalactic fence. But Rip Torn's balance of utterly nonchalant reactions and grave delivery of exposition compliments the other performers nicely. So does Linda Florentino, who brings just enough eccentric spice to what would otherwise be a damsel-in-distress role.

His previous movies didn't have much in the way of action sequences but Barry Sonnenfeld's already motion-heavy style is well-suited to the genre. From early on, there's a definite sense of movement to the movie. Such as when Mikey sprints across a sparse desert road, towards the screaming immigration officer. You see this again during the rocket car sequence through the Queens tunnel, the camera careening along with the speeding vehicle as it defies gravity. It's most obvious when Jay accidentally unleashes a bouncing ball of doom throughout MIB headquarters. More than once, the camera assumes the P.O.V. of the ricocheting object, as it bounces off little aliens or around offices. 

Yet, even though “Men in Black” is largely defined by the moving camera, Sonnenfeld understands the value of a nearly still image too. Especially when it comes to comedy. While Jones interrogates an alien in the foreground, Smith is bashed about by an alien in the throes of labor. The montage of bouncing destruction is broken up by Zed, calmly sitting in his office and deflecting the object with a folder, is hilarious. Over all, the blending of humor and action works fantastically throughout. Whether it be the Bug's shocked facial expressions during the final fight, Jay tossed around by the Noisy Cricket, or Will Smith crawling around inside an upside down car. 

While I'm partial to the practical creature effects, it must be said that the CGI effects in the film holds up extremely well. Edgar the Bug's full form, which the film holds off on revealing for as long as possible, doesn't look photorealistic. Yet it's a highly expressive creature with a clear personality, that moves with weight and realism. Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones even interact with the creature fairly convincingly. The CGI Bug was a replacement for a huge puppet that was deemed too stiff for the action-heavy last action, the result of a rewrite during filming. (This was late enough in the game that merchandise still featured the original Bug design.) Why is it that this twenty-three year old creation look better than stuff we see in major blockbusters in recent years? Perhaps more time and attention was taken with the Bug, considering CGI was still a new toy at the time. The computer graphics used on the MIB car and Mikey are noticeably not as strong. 

Lastly, the film's particular tone is established early on by Danny Elfman's fantastic score. The opening credits sequence, following the perspective of a dragonfly before it squishes on a windshield, is set to one of my favorite pieces of Elfman music. Low bow strings establish a foreboding mood of mystery before whimsical melodies take us higher and a driving theme takes over. This sets up the secret nature of the titular organization but also the sense of cool and humor that defines the film. (Many of these elements are returned to for the similar but equally excellent ending theme.) And, for what it's worth, I do like Will Smith's theme song. It's campy and pretty dumb, perhaps, but also insanely catchy. 

If it isn't obvious by now, “Men in Black” is a movie I love. I watched it countless times as a child. I credit the film for taking my already existing interest in UFOlogy and directing it more towards conspiracies and urban legends. (Which, thankfully, evolved into more of an anthropological interest in this topics and not wing-nuttery.) I think it's a just about perfect example of popcorn cinema. While critics were indifferent in 1997, audiences showed up in droves and made it the third highest grossing film of the year. Perhaps nostalgia colors my view of the movie some but, if that's the case, so be it. I still find this to be such a purely entertaining motion picture. [Grade: A]