CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Top Dog (1995)

 

1948 would see the release of “The Naked City.” While it seems unlikely to me that this was the first movie to feature two mismatched cops investigating a crime together, influential filmmakers like Akira Kurosawa, Norman Jewison, and Walter Hill have all cited it as an inspiration. Hill's 1982 hit “48 Hrs." would prove that the premise could be a major box office winner. The producer of that film later made the similar “Lethal Weapon,” which was an even bigger success. After that, the buddy cop formula became inescapable in the eighties and nineties. To the point that increasingly higher concept variations arose. Such as: What if one of the cops was a dog? That seemingly improbable premise powered two separate movies in 1989. “Turner & Hooch” and “K-9" were mostly distinguished by whether the human or the dog were the straight-laced one or the wild card. “Turner & Hooch” was co-written by Michael Blodgett, who wrote the novel that became the Chuck Norris vehicle, “Hero and the Terror.” In what surely must be a coincidence, Chuck Norris would also headline a film with a nearly identical premise to Blodgett's cop dog movie five years later. “Top Dog” represented the action star's extremely late entry into this sub-sub-genre. 

Sgt. Swanson and his loyal mutt, Reno, are on the trail of a white supremacist sect that has been planting bombs around their city. Swanson tracks down the group responsible, both him and Reno getting a bullet for their troubles. Reno pulls through but his person does not. Later, loose cannon cop Jake Wilder is assigned the same case. Which means he is also paired up with Reno. The cop and the dog do not get along at first, the man bothered by the canine's seemingly smart-ass attitude. However, they soon close in on the Neo-Nazi terrorists behind the bombings. They quickly come into possession of a notebook that contains the list of targets the racist sect intends to explode next. Such as the upcoming Coalition for Racial Unity, a high profile gathering attended by several prominent public figures. Cop and cop dog race against time to save the day. 

While by no means a master thespian, Chuck Norris had proven to have a little bit of range by 1995. “Firewalker” didn't impress me much but Chuck was likable in it. He could sell a funny one-liner from time to time. "Walker, Texas Ranger" had turned him into a reliable TV presence. Unfortunately, “Top Dog” sticks Norris in the role of straight man against a rascally pup. Meaning he's mostly hammering the note of being annoyed or grumpy for the majority of the movie. Norris can't seem to perform this emotion in any way besides scowling and grumbling. Considering Chuck's charm actually lies in his down-home approachability, having him play a jerk takes away most of what makes likable. That a scene occurs where Wilder threatens to shoot the dog in the head, going so far as to unholster his gun, shows a major miscalculation happened somewhere. Norris seems genuinely angry and mildly unhinged, not comically bemused. 

That Chuck's bluster is extra blustery here stands in contrast to "Top Dog" basically being a family movie. Film producers figured out a long time ago that putting a cute animal in your movie all but guarantees an audience, no matter how underwhelming the rest of the antics might be. The role of Reno is essayed by two shaggy canines, Digby and Betty. Affable enough dogs, I've no doubt, but the amusement factor they provide on-screen is not that memorable. The biggest laugh in the movie might've been unintentional, when the dog performs Chuck's trademark slow motion dive through a window. Otherwise, Reno eating his partner's rotisserie chicken, dropping a box on a bad guy's head, or running off with a scarf that seemingly belongs to the Pope are lame slapstick set up in a belabored manner. There's a kid in the movie too, of course. Future "So Weird" cast member Erik von Detton is the kid in question, a subplot designed to tug at the heart strings without serving the story much otherwise. This is standard sad kid/cute dog content and similar scenes could be found in a number of underachieving family film slop in the nineties. The montage of the mutt getting into adorable shenanigans and trying on different outfits at a county fair is especially generic. 

That "Top Dog" is so indistinguishable from Disney Channel fair makes the seriousness with which it approaches the antagonists surprising. Nineties action movies could no longer invoke the Soviet Union as an easily booed bad guy and Middle Eastern radicals would not emerge as the primary cultural boogeyman until the next decade. The 1992 stand-off at Ruby Ridge and subsequent militia movement in America made right-wingin', bitter-clingin', proud gun clingers an acceptable target for action films that couldn't afford to shoot in Ireland. "Top Dog" features a group of White Supremacists who target homes in black neighborhoods or synagogues. Key scene has Kai Wulff as the organization's leader Sieg Heiling or delivering a speech about planning to unite real life Neo-Nazi organizations like Church of the Creator and the Aryan Nation. The climatic terrorist attack takes place on 4/20, because it's Hitler's birthday and not because Nazis hate pot smokers. All of this points towards "Top Dog's" actually doing some research into white supremacy. The fact that this is dropped into the middle of what is basically a kids' movie is unexpected and tonally baffling. You'd expect the villain in a movie like this to be evil dog catchers, not realistic depictions of active militant hate groups. Despite depicting the racist bad guys as sincerely dangerous, they are also buffoonish clowns at times, literally in one scene. (Which I guess is realistic, the buffoon part, not the clown part.)

This is not the only weird tonal shift in the movie. Chuck Norris co-headlining a movie with a rambunctious dog shows that we are clearly in the more undignified chapter of his career. Despite that, the action in "Top Dog" is still shockingly good. The opening scene features a massive explosion, during a time when you really had to blow shit up to get an effect like that. There are two car chases of note, one of which ends in a fiery crash. While he's not piling up corpses like James Braddock, Chuck still seemingly fatally wounds several enemies during the climatic shoot-out. The dog gets a kill too, playfully pushing a Nazi from a rooftop, which is more bizarre. You can tell Norris' age was starting to catch up to him, as the fight scenes feature more moments where his back is turned away from the camera or shot from a distance, to disguise stuntmen. However, the fighting is still decent, especially when Norris beats down the main villain at the end. That features one of his trademark moves that we haven't seen in a while, snapping an opponent's bludgeon in two and taking the splintered wood for himself. It's truly unexpected that this features some of the better fight choreography of his nineties era. 

The above-average quality of those pyrotechnics and fisticuffs plus the contrast between the plausible bad guys and otherwise comedic approach almost makes "Top Dog" an intriguing curiosity. Unfortunately, that first half is uniformly dull. The pooch provided pratfalls do not amuse. Chuck genuinely seems unhappy to do the film. At least we can be assured that, no matter how shitty Chuck's politics got in real life, at least he agreed that Nazis are bad. The film had the misfortune of coming out nine days after the Oklahoma City bombing, making its choice in villains especially out-of-step with its cutesy touches. That emphasizes the weirdness of "Top Dog," a movie that is otherwise too lame to defend. [5/10] 

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Sidekicks (1992)

When “The Karate Kid” was released in 1984, it gave lame white people all over the world an excuse to embrace martial arts. John G. Avildsen's re-shuffling of his already iconic “Rocky” would also become a surprise hit. It turns out moving the well-worn underdog sports story to a youthful demographic and adding a generous helping of Asian quasi-mysticism was a winning formula. An easily replicated one too, as several similar films emerged in its wake. The second half of the eighties and early nineties contained a surprising number of movies that directly emulated “The Karate Kid's” premise or combined martial arts with a kid-friendly angle. At some point during Cannon's financial free-fall years, the idea emerged of building a new Chuck Norris feature around clips from his other movies. Norris liked the idea enough to hold onto it after Cannon's collapse. With a cash infusion from a Texas mattress mogul, “Sidekicks” came into being by 1992. The film would become a modest box office success and, owning to being a lot less violent than most of Chuck's earlier films, a frequent presence in my childhood VHS player. 

Barry Gabrewski is a socially awkward, asthmatic kid living deep in the heart of Texas. His mother died when he was young and his dad is preoccupied with his computer business. Instead, Barry looks up to karate champ and action movie star Chuck Norris. He often daydreams about being Chuck's sidekicks in his various cinematic adventures. Worried about the boy, Barry's favorite teacher Miss Chan introduces him to her uncle. Lee takes the kid under his wing and begins to train him in martial arts. Barry still fantasizes about being friends with Chuck but he starts to overcome his asthma, draw the attention of a crush, and stands up to his bullies. That includes the protegee of Kelly Stone, the obnoxious asshole sensai of a local karate dojo. Lee and Miss Chan submit Barry into a local martial arts tournament. This not only gives the boy a chance to truly prove himself but also brings him shoulder-to-shoulder with his idol. 

“Sidekicks” does little to dissuade the notion that it was heavily influenced by “The Karate Kid.” This is, after all, the story of a scrawny white kid learning discipline and uncovering his inner strength under the tutelage of a wise old Asian guy. As far as wannabe Daniel-san and Mr. Miyagis go, I think this one is serviceable. It helps that Barry's plight is fairly relatable. He wants the cute girl in his class, who is Winnie Cooper. At the same time, his physical frailness holds him back from self-actualizing as a traditionally masculine man. When the girl outright tells him that she doesn't like him that way but rather feels sorry for him, as someone who was an awkward dweeb in school himself, I know how that feels. “Sidekicks” is as facile a wish fulfillment fantasy as any other action film. Barry does learn to believe in himself, physically bests his bullies, defeats his asthma through the power of karate, and clearly seems to win Danica McKellar's heart. Despite actually fighting alongside his hero, he discards the fantasy father figure of Chuck Norris for his actual father figure at the end, a dramatic turn the script doesn't really earn. If anything, Mr. Lee has been more of a dad to Barry than anyone else. 

However, Barry's frequent fantasies about being Chuck Norris' little buddy does occasionally touch on something more significant. While having an asthma attack that puts him in the hospital, Barry imagines himself as a prisoner-of-war being tortured by some rather Nazi-like officers. He imagines Chuck is there with him, giving him encouragement as imaginary chains tighten around his lungs the way his condition does. Later, while trying to climb the rope in gym, he again daydreams that Norris is there, quietly talking him through how to beat this. Ya know, if you grew up with a deadbeat dad and looked to surrogate father figures in pop culture to fill that void, this is not an entirely unreasonable premise. “Sidekicks” definitely takes Barry's fixation with Norris too far. The way he constantly carries around a beat-up karate magazine is very silly. As is the degree to which he looses himself in his daydreams. However, I do think the film, juvenile as it is, sincerely tries to tap into something deeper about how fiction can help us cope with reality sometimes. 

I'm not suggesting that one of Chuck Norris' family movies is secretly “Cinema Paradiso” or anything. As a comedy, “Sidekicks” is often broad and irritating. Far too much of the film is dependent upon the comedy stylings of Joe Piscopo. He plays the Martin Kove part from “Karate Kid,” the leader of the bad guy dojo who practices martial arts not to achieve inner peace but to physically intimidate people. Piscopo spends the entire film bathed in shiny flop-sweat, grimacing and trying to push his skull out of his face in every scene. During Barry's fantasy sequences, he dresses up in cartoonish outfits and somehow reaches even more grotesque levels of overacting. The “Missing in Action” inspired scene has the future right-wing talk radio host donning yellow face and a questionable accent. Piscopo's villain is set up as an egomaniacal rival ready for the fall against Norris, his defeat being maybe the most ridiculous moment of buffoonery in this motion picture. Or maybe it's the “Hitman” based scene, that sees Piscopo in black leather and chain mail as he fills candy and toys with poison and razor blades. 

These extended fantasy scenes are the main gimmick that separates “Sidekicks” from “The Karate Kid.” For fans of Chuck, that makes the movie a greatest hits reel of sorts. I say “of sorts” because the script seems slightly confused. The “Missing in Action” homage does indeed copy the scene where Norris rises out of murky jungle waters while firing a machine gun in slow motion. The opening sequence is inspired by “The Octagon,” with Norris fighting off a horde of enemy ninjas in some sort of secluded, fortified compound. It adds more outrageous flourishes, like Norris in an all-white ninja costume or a bad guy in an elaborate Noh mask, but the homage is evident. When Chuck and Barry are in trench coats and wielding saw-off shotguns, that's obviously “The Hitman.” However, while the western saloon daydream practically mentions “Lone Wolf McQuade” by name, it is a direct horse opera spoof. Chuck Norris has never done a regular western. He's never done a World War II movie either, which is what the Nazi torture fantasy is presumably going for. 

“Sidekicks” is a film stars Chuck Norris as an idealized version of himself, was directed by his little brother, features a cameo from his son, and positions the man as a ineffable figure of strength, heroism, charity, and upright fairness. The final scene suggests the legacy of Chuck Norris will continue to inspire the disadvantaged and down-trodden to victory. This is an ode to the man's own ego. Which makes you wonder why it doesn't get more about Chuck's own movies right. Maybe Norris was imagining a slightly better version of his own career for himself here. Perhaps the version of Chuck Norris that exists in this movie's world didn't do the same kind of movies over and over, like in our more mundane universe. I guess a “Silent Rage” or “Invasion USA” homage wouldn't have fit the squeaky-clean image this one was going for.

Pedantic nitpicking aside, “Sidekicks” is a little better than it needed to be. The cast is actually quite likable. The bright-eyed Jonathan Brandis successfully mixes a child-like sense of awe with a more reserved kind of sadness. Julia Nickson is surprisingly good as Miss Chan, sweet and caring in a way that feels genuine. (She's also, if you'll allow me to say, gorgeous.) Beau Bridges has some decent chemistry with her in a few scenes. Mako gets probably the script's corniest dialogue as our Dollar Store Mr. Miyagi. A scene where he slapsticks his way through a fight with some bikers is quite bad. As are any of the moments when he drops some rambling ancient Chinese secrets on the hero. (Would've been nice if, once again, Mako Iwamatsu could have played a Japanese man but whatever.) However, Mako was too likable a presence not to make some of his scenes work. Such as when he humbles a bigot at the airport or decides upon the humiliating name for Barry's karate alter-ego. And when he slams through that pile of bricks at the end? That shit is still cool.

Aaron Norris' direction is no less mawkish than in past credits. However, I think he's learned by now to let João Fernandes go a little crazy with the cinematography. “Sidekicks” looks shockingly good for what is otherwise such a chintzy production. That opening ninja scene features some ominous slow pans over creepy statues. A shot of Barry training around a fountain, as his and his master's shadows are reflected on the wall, looks fantastic. The physical comedy is goofy but why is the lighting so fucking good in that shot of a ninja exploding through the school wall? You didn't have to go that hard, João. I'd say the same to Alan Silvestri, whose synth-heavy rock score genuinely gets the heart pumping at times. The film definitely needed a proper theme song, its own “You're the Best” or “Hold Onto That Vision,” to truly make it work but I'm still fond of Silvestri's score. I guess it's fair to say that I'm still kind of fond of “Sidekicks” in general, as vain, dumb, and formulaic a motion picture as it is. Maybe the nostalgia is talking but I do think I'd take it over “Three Ninjas!” or “The Next Karate Kid.” [6/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[X] Sports Some Cowboy Getup*

*Bolo tie and boots

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Firewalker (1986)

The Cannon Group was always happy to chase trends and cash-in on fads. When disco, poppin' and lockin', rapping, saucy Latin dances and Bo Derek all became crazes, they were there. They have their names on “Rambo” rip-offs, “Mad Max” wannabes, gladiator movies, barbarian flicks, sex comedies, slashers. Of all the blockbusters Golan and Globus emulated, it would seem to me that they were especially fond of Indiana Jones. The first would-be “Raiders” the company was involved with was 1983's “Treasure of the Four Crowns,” which had a giant boulder rolling towards the audience in 3-D. That movie wasn't very successful but it didn't stop Cannon from trying again in 1984 with “Sahara” and 1985 with “King Solomon's Mines.” Their 1986 movie about hunting for lost treasure in a booby trap laden ancient temple was “Firewalker.” The project was apparently at least partially Chuck Norris' idea, who wanted to show his range with a funnier flick. Whether that paid off in the long run is debatable, “Firewalker” does represent a turning point of sorts in the high-kicking star's career. 

Max Donigan is an adventurer fond of tall tales and Leo Porter is his more straight-laced partner, a former history teacher. The two are treasure hunters but they've found less gold than they have enemies that put them in death traps. A woman named Patricia seeks them out and hands them a treasure map, claiming whatever it leads to is valuable enough to kill for. They follow the trail to a cave in the southwestern desert, finding Aztec and Mayan artifacts and a jewel-covered dagger. They discover the dagger is connected to a Native American legend known as the Firewalker. A one-eyed villain named El Coyote, also obsessed with the legend of the Firewalker, is on their trail. The trio soon travel into the Mexican rain forest, on their way to a temple full of danger and rewards. 

The likes of “Invasion U.S.A.” and “The Delta Force” mostly had Chuck Norris squinting, beating up bad guys, and exploding thugs. However, his better films did show that this guy was capable of some folksy warmth or a half-way amusing one-liner, despite his sometimes stiff delivery. “Firewalker” sees Chuck go fully in this direction. Max Donigan is more of a light-hearted figure than the stone-faced killers he's played before. The guy jokes around, tells exaggerated yarns about past adventures, and has frequent belligerent sexual tension with Melody Anderson as the female lead. Some of these moments prove mildly amusing. Such as Chuck suddenly declaring Bigfoot's involvement in a past journey or randomly posing for a photograph. However, the humor in “Firewalker” is often more dire than this. An extended bit involving the trio disguised as clergy aboard a train drags on endlessly, with little wit or energy. Running gags about Max's fear of swimming or inability to shoot a target are listlessly deployed. Despite his best efforts here, Mr. Norris is still far better at cracking skulls than he is cracking wise. 

“Firewalker” would also team Norris with J. Lee Thompson. Thompson's days of directing relatively respectable films like “The Guns of the Navarone” or “Cape Fear” were far behind him by the eighties. He had become Charles Bronson's preferred director during his Cannon years, putting out increasingly misanthropic and sadistic films all throughout the decade. While this one is a lot more light-hearted than “10 to Midnight” or “The Evil That Men Do,” you can still tell J. Lee Thompson directed it. By which I mean there is an undercurrent of sexual menace throughout the film. Max repeatedly calls attention to Patricia's lack of virginity, behavior the film seems to consider charming and not off-putting. Later, while attempting to negotiate with some Central American revolutionaries, a man begins to undress himself and Patricia. While no less cartoonish than the rest of the film, these moments still stick out badly. Though at least Chuck also gets drugged, tied up and nearly murdered by an evil woman too, so at least the film is an equal oppretunity offender. 

Despite the repeated focus on the banter between Norris and Anderson, it never comes together. These two always seem more annoyed with than attracted to each other, their eventual romance being a contrivance of the story. Instead, Max's relationship with Leo proves a lot more compelling. Lou Gossett Jr. is also perpetually annoyed with Max throughout most of the movie. However, no matter how many times his partner gets them both in over their heads or fails to turn up some treasure, Leo comes back to Max. He always corrects Max's outrageous stories, further making the two seem like a bickering old married couple. In the last act, it is Leo that is abducted by the bad guy and most be rescued by the hero, confirming Gossett's role as the story's damsel in distress. A story line that concludes, by the way, with Chuck wrapping his arms and legs totally around Gossett, the two face to face and crotch to crotch as they dangle over boiling water. Gossett is a better actor than Chuck but still can't do much with the deeply corny jokes. However, the latent homoeroticism of the material does add a little more campy value to “Firewalker.”

Perhaps to differentiate itself from other “Indiana Jones” imitators, “Firewalker” sets its story mostly on the North American continent. Which means the film indulges in the ever popular trope of mystical Native American shamanism. On their journey, the heroes meet with an old medicine man. Will Sampson, looking sickly in what would be his final role, adds a little humor to the very stereotypical part. He is still called upon to perform some vague magic over a fire while chanting. The film's antagonist is also Native American, Sonny Landham cashing a check. Whether “El Coyote” is from the northern tribes or MesoAmerican is not specified. This is because the film never acknowledges any difference between the Aztecs, the Mayans, or any other groups. It treats all indigenous beliefs as one vague collection of magical woo-woo. The result is a script whose fantastical elements are never truly explained and never rise to more than plot devices. 

As an “Indiana Jones” knock-off, “Firewalker” is uninspired. There's some standard crawling through rocky tombs and temples. The magical properties of the main MacGuffin, or even what the Firewalker is supposed to be exactly, are never explained. This amounts to a handful of secret passage ways among the various altars. The more obvious “Jones-ian elements are the multiple chase scenes through desserts and jungles, sometimes via a camouflaged Volkswagen Bug. John Rhys-Davis – who was also in “King Solomon's Mine” – also shows up, affecting what I think is supposed to be a Southern or Creole accent in a part not too dissimilar to Sallah. It's no “Temple of Doom,” that's for sure. I imagine that was the main inspiration, given the bad guy's propensity for mysticism and human sacrifice. 

However, the film does not feature any heart-ripping or lava plunges. Chuck Norris was earnestly trying to reinvent himself as a more wholesome sort of hero, the film landing squarely on the PG side of things. He still gets some standard action beats. The bar room brawl is probably the action highlight of the film exactly because it features the roundhouse kicks and spin punches we've come to expect. Thompson seemed very fond of having Chuck do a flying kick towards the camera, something he does twice. The result is a film that ultimately reeks of cheapness and has little of the comedic spark needed to keep itself going. Nevertheless, Chuck trying out a less ultra-violent mood – plus the trappings of Native American spiritualism – would resurface during his “Walker, Texas Ranger” years. That makes the film significant to its star's career, I suppose. These exact qualities are also why my Mom always listed this one as her favorite Chuck Norris joint. Sorry, ma, I think I'll stick with the ones where he's shooting commies or rolling around in the dirt with Dave Carradine. [5/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 5 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[X] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

 

Director Report Card: Paul Thomas Anderson (2025)

 

10. One Battle After Another

 

The hardcore movie lover crowd have had nothing but bad things to say about David Zaslav, the much loathed president of Warner Bros. Discovery, and none of it was exactly unearned. However, I'll give the ignorant asshole this much: Probably out of a desire for some award season glamour, he did sign off on big budgets on not the most commercial projects from beloved filmmakers. At the end of the day, all the studio bullshit and behind-the-scenes drama doesn't matter. It's the movies that last. And Paul Thomas Anderson's next movie was always likely to last. He is a highly lauded auteur. When news broke that he would be making a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio, much mystery surrounded it. There were some reports that it was an adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's novel, “Vineland.” When the title was finally revealed as “One Battle After Another,” it was finally understood to be more inspired by the book than directly adapting it. After much scrutiny from the folks who treat movies like it's sport betting, “one Battle After Another” was ultimately deemed a box office flop. But who cares, because the movie is there forever now and a lot of people sure seem to love it. 

“Ghetto” Pat was once a member of French 75, a group of underground revolutionaries who pulled stunts like freeing detainees from a prison camp or blowing up cop cars. Pat was the explosive guy and Perfidia, his partner and lover, was a woman of action. They were doggedly pursued by Colonel Lockjaw who, despite his racist beliefs, was sexually obsessed with Perfidia. Pat and Perfidia would attempt to settle down, raising the child she gave birth to together, but she eventually went back on the run. Sixteen years later, Pat – now living under the name Bob Fergusen – is a burn-out who seems widely disliked by Willa, his mixed race daughter. She heads out to a concert with some friends. They don't know that Lockjaw is attempting to join a secret order of white supremacists. That Willa is his daughter, from a forced sexual encounter with Perfidia. That his membership in the Christmas Adventurers Club is threatened by him having a mixed race daughter, that he's leading a police raid into the city to find the girl. Soon, Pat is attempting to locate where the girl has been taken and find her before Lockjaw does. 

I wasn't a big fan of Anderson's previous Pynchon adaptation, “Inherent Vice,” finding it to be too shaggy and stoned-out in its humor to appeal to me. Comes with the territory with that, I know. Whatever you think about Pynchon, I think you can agree that the author has an ear for cool sounding code names. I haven't read “Vineland” and can't attest to how much of “One Battle After Another” is taken from it. However, the various code names and underground jargon in the film – Rocket Man, Junglepussy, Mae West, Lady Champagne – have that Pynchon-esque quality of being both absurd and... Kind of cool. The same is true of the film's preoccupation with the secret codes the French 75 members used to contact each other, which include a shout-out to the Hooterville trilogy. “One Battle After Another” is a movie with nuns firing machine guns, nun-chucks, skateboards, a dojo, bombs. This shit is, you could say, rad. It's all kind of silly and funny but it's also cool as fuck. 

But do you know what's definitely not cool as fuck? In “One Battle After Another,” the police and the government they work for are depicted as openly racist institutions. The authority figures are obsessed with punishing anyone darker skinned than them, every official action they make merely a flimsy justification to enforce their racist ideology. Ya know, like in real life. Immigrants are depicted as persecuted innocents, simply trying to live, a scapegoat totally outmatched by an infinitely powerful system. And violence against the government who enforces these rules is shown as never less than justified. I'm not smart enough to know if this actually means anything but a 130 million dollar studio movie starring A-listers preaching an openly pro-direct action message like that is surprising, at the very least. 

Like I said, the racist organizations in “One Battle After Another” don't pretend to have any deeper motivation for their relentless persecution of non-white people than preserving their own racial purity. And this is, it almost goes without saying, bullshit. When we meet Lockjaw, he's already lusting after Perfidia. Everything he ultimately does in the second half is motivated by his desire to cover up the fact that he has a mixed race child. In other words, this guy clearly doesn't actually believe the things he's saying. At least not so much that it overwhelms the horniness he feels for a black woman. It's also notable that the white supremacist cabal Lockjaw tries to join is called the Christmas Adventurers Club and says shit like “All hail Saint Nicholas!” This group is depicted as powerful. They have tentacles in all sectors of the government and are able to organize armed responses in minutes. They are a force to be reckoned with... But they are still fucking goofy losers. The film is simply reflecting reality here, as the grotesque absurdities of the Trump era have made it very clear how the most monstrously evil people often tend to also be clownish buffoons.

Lockjaw's uncontrollable lust for a woman of color does not seem to be an especially unusual status for an otherwise highly racist man. I suppose there is something in human nature, where we inevitably eroticize that which we have deemed forbidden. Lockjaw presents himself as a proud macho warrior man, wearing a tight shirt that shows off his guns. When he's around Perfidia, however, he seems to become sexually submissive. In the bedroom is the only place where the racist is willing to give up power. This is not the only example in the film. After Willa is born, Perfidia grows tired of motherhood, of being nothing but a parent now, and leaves. The parallels between the power imbalances and attempts to correct them in the characters' personal lives are impossible to untangle from their struggles for political power too. Maybe that's all it has ever been about. I don't know what that means exactly but it's an interesting observation. 
 

“One Battle After Another” presents Pat/Bob and Colonel Lockjaw as opposites, in many ways. One is a revolutionary, one is a cop and military officer, on opposite sides of the system as two people can be. They also have some things in common. Not only that they both have feelings for the same woman. Pat's relationship with his daughter is stressed. Willa has a nonbinary friend and her dad awkwardly struggles to understand the pronoun situation there. Later, while on the phone with another member of French 75, he expresses exasperation at terms like “safe space.” He is, in other words, an old man who is being left behind by a quickly changing world. As “woke” as an anti-government revolutionary is, he's still out of his depth among today's youth. Statements like these are not too dissimilar with the dismissive comments you'd expect a piece of shit like Lockjaw to say either. It's an interesting parallel, in how these enemies are united in their mutual old white guy-ness. 

One suspects that this is a very self-aware move on Paul Thomas Anderson's behalf. Pat is the story's protagonist. His perspective is the one the audience is aligned with. While you never can say for certain, one assumes that Anderson put a bit of himself into this guy. He's an old white guy too. That the film's hero is repeatedly mocked and humiliated for his own out-of-touch qualities shows that the director has no illusions about this behavior being admirable. Similarly, the younger characters in “One Battle After Another” have an energy and spirit beyond their elders. They are always racing around on skateboards, always energized to speak truth to power and to stand up for what is right. As the title indicates, and the ending further proves, the fight goes on. It never ends. Their parents fucked it up, they couldn't fix things, but maybe the kids will be alright. As bad as things are, maybe there's hope for the future after all. 

Ultimately though, it is intriguing that Pat is both the film's hero and a figure of mockery. Leonardo DiCaprio, once again, happily embraces a schlubby, dad-like image here that defies his years as a sex symbol. He spends almost the entire film in a bathrobe, with scraggly facial hair. He's perpetually stoned out of his mind and frequently frustrated with everything happening around him. It's really funny, DiCaprio having no problem playing the clown. He tumbles, falls, gets tossed around, and seems constantly annoyed by the serious questions being asked of him. “One Battle After Another” is not like “Inherent Vice,” where almost everyone in the story are stoned out of their gourds the whole time. Pat is the fool in a cast full of straight men, Benicio del Toro and Sean Penn act like distinctively in-control and cool minded individuals in comparison to Leo's stumbling around. It's an amusing set-up for a film, a guy forced back into action after spending thirty years smoking and drinking his brains away.

At the same time, “One Battle After Another” is regularly powered by Johnny Greenwood's high-strung score. It's made up of escalating notes. Scenes of Pat arguing on a pay phone with someone or fumbling around a dojo are obviously funny. At the same time, a mixture of his own incompetence and the pressure mounting around him means he could get caught. There's a feeling all throughout the film of the walls closing in, of the powerful forces at work in the government zeroing in on the radical heroes. The film explodes into violence frequently in the last third, which actually does little to alleviate this tension. It feels like another set of screws being put to the viewer. The film honestly made me feel rather anxious at times, Anderson and his team doing a great job of making the viewer feel the same jittery uncertainty that the hero is feeling.

It's not an unexpected tone from the director of “There Will Be Blood” or “Boogie Nights.” At the same time, you can almost see why – beyond the award season glamour – a profits-obsessed CEO would sign off on this movie. Is “One Battle After Another,” in fact, Anderson's go at making a proper action movie? From the inciting incident on, the film is in almost constant movement. DiCaprio spends most of the run time in literal pursuit of his daughter, often from the seat of a car. The last third features multiple shoot-outs, an explosion, an acrobatic car crash. The camera is often attached to the front of a moving vehicle as it spends along desert highways. In other words, there's a lot of what you'd call “action” in this movie and it's all very well executed. I don't think this is the director auditioning for a “Mission: Impossible” movie or anything but it's definitely somewhat, kind of abreast with that type of film making. 

As you'd probably expect from a Paul Thomas Anderson production, “One Battle After Another” is simply an excellent looking film. Michael Bauman is back as cinematographer, after gifting “Licorice Pizza” with its textured, deep look. He creates something similarly rich here. Individual shots stick in the mind. Kids on skateboards leaping across roof tops in the golden moonlight, fog behind them. A nun with a gun firing away in the dark. An erection bulging at the forefront of the frame. The editing, from Andy Jurgensen, is similarly precise. A shot of Willa sitting at a table, moments before a heavily armed squad marches into the room, is so perfectly constructed. The comedic timing and anxious mood are both created by cuts that are ideally arranged.
 

I don't think I liked the film quite as much as others did. While not on the level of grand cinematic shit-posting that “Inherent Vice” was at, “One Battle After Another” shares some of that shaggy-dog vibes with the other Pynchon adaptation. The ideas in the film are serious, the performances are very well done, the writing and construction are carefully place. But the silliness on the surface often suggests a looseness. For a film that's 164 minutes long, it certainly moves quickly though. Maybe if Anderson finally gets an Oscar for this one, he'll have another chance to make a film of this scale. If not, this is pretty damn good for his first strike at directing a big budget action flick. And, hey, maybe it'll radicalize some kids or at least teach young people to hate the fucking cops. Maybe there's hope for the future in the real world too, no matter if life is but one struggle after another, on and on until the end of time. [Grade: B+]

 

Director Report Card: Danny Boyle (2004)

 

10. Millions

 

After “28 Days Later,” Danny Boyle had the biggest international hit of his career up to that point. I don't think revitalizing the zombie movie with probably the most talked-about horror film of that year gave the director a blank check exactly. However, he probably had a wide range of choice for what he could do next. Up to that point, the director had made gritty stories of social isolation, class division, and substance abuse his bread and butter. As your encore to a horror movie defined by its extra grimy visual style, what do you choose? If you're this guy, you decide to make a kid's movie. Boyle would team with celebrated screenwriter Frank Cottrell-Boyce to craft what was, for many years, the only film in the director's career that isn't rated R. It remains the only Danny Boyle movie you can watch on the vanilla version of Disney+ right now, to give you an idea of “Millions'” family-friendly content. How did a filmmaker known for far grittier material adapt to this wild change in direction?

Following the death of their mother, nine year old Damian, his twelve year old brother Anthony, and their dad move into the suburbs of Widnes. Damian, who has a hyper-focus on stories of Catholic saints and Christian martyrs, has trouble making friends. While playing in a cardboard box on the side of a railway, a bag full of British pounds notes falls into his lap. At the end of the year, the United Kingdom is adopting the Euro as its official currency, making the money worthless. With Christmas around the corner, Damian decides to give the money to those in need around his town. Anthony convinces him to keep the amount a secret, the brothers performing these good acts in secret. Unfortunately, money doesn't materialize out of thin air. The boys have unknowingly swiped a cache of stolen pounds from a bank robber, who is on their trail. This dovetails with the boys having far more personal problems in their lives.

The opening minutes of “Millions” makes one thing certain: Danny Boyle did not change any of his style when making a movie for a family-friendly audience. Very shortly after the film begins, the audience is privy to the boys' imaginative flights of fancy. They picture their new home being built on the spot. Throughout “Millions,” there are multiple montages brought together by high-energy editing. Multiple frames appear on-screen several times. Quirky camera angles are chosen for a number of key shots, such as assuming the perspective of a motorized trash can as it drives through a crowded school. There's some British electronic music on the soundtrack too. One specific sequence has another boy describing the daring heist that resulted in these pound notes disappearing from a bank, which feels exactly like something that could have appeared in any of his prior films. That is the moment, in fact, that I noticed “Millions” plays a bit like a kid-friendly version of “Shallow Grave.” 

However, “Millions” is not a movie about paranoia and selfishness the way “Shallow Grave” was. Out of Boyle's past work, tonally, it most resembles “A Life Less Ordinary.” I mean, that motorized trashcan that demands people give it money is a lot like the robot janitors in that movie. What I truly mean by this comparison is that “Millions” sees the director embracing his whimsical side in a way we've only previously seen in that one. This is most evident in the elaborate fantasy sequences Damian has. He often imagines conversations with the various saints he admires. These fantastical spirits sometimes have golden halos over their heads. When Saint Nicholas – much more in-line with Catholic tradition than Santa Claus ones – appears, his dialogue is in subtitled Greek. Saint Clare of Assisi puffs on a cigarette during their conversation, one example of the not exactly saintly behavior we see these visions perform. It is, in other words, cute. It might even be classified as cutesy, depending on how you feel about magical-realism and kids learning valuable life lessons from down-to-Earth versions of historical figures. Still, it's a lot less all-over-the-place than “A Life Less Ordinary” was. A little kid being the main character makes imaginative fantasy sequences a lot easier to accept. 

That Damian's day dreams are so specific is also interesting. “A Life Less Ordinary” was the most blatant example of Boyle including themes of religious imagery in his movies, of literal angels and the will of heaven playing a big role in the story. “Millions” sees this idea coming back to the surface in a much less aggressively quirky way. Damian is really fascinated with saints. He knows everything about the subject of Christian martyrdom, including the gory details of their sacrifices. He often deploys this information at length, seemingly unable to read how his info-dumps make his teachers and classmates uncomfortable. When he hears someone else mention his obsession, he gets excited and perks up. At one point, his brother begs him not to be weird and off-putting. I have no idea if Cottrell-Boyce or Boyle intended this reading but, when watched in 2025, the conclusions is impossible to avoid: Damian is definitely neuro-divergent and most likely on the autism spectrum. 

Speaking as someone recently diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, this possibly unintentional depiction of the condition strikes me as one of the better cinematic reading. The young star of the film, Alex Etel, plays Damian as somewhat literal in his thinking. He seems to have difficulty reading the intentions and actions of the others. That his favorite topic is an extremely niche one feels a lot more specific to me than the usual short hands writers use to establish autistic characters. It's only in retrospect that I realize Damian's differing perspective making him conditioned to help people might classify this as an example of the unfortunate “Inspirationally Disadvantaged” trope. That the word autism or Aspergers is never uttered in this script, that the film aligns so closely with his point-of-view, gives him far more depth than most examples of the condition on-screen. The boy is not defined by his brain chemistry nor do his eccentricities control him. He has an actual personality. 

All of the above marks “Millions” as a kids movie, through and through. It is about how children observe the world and concerned with the same things they are concerned with. That doesn't mean “Millions” is overly juvenile. Most family movies with the premise of kids suddenly coming into a bag full of money would play strictly as comedy. You'd have the youngsters spending the cash on ridiculous luxuries, perhaps in service of a moral about responsibility. “Millions” is grappling with themes a lot heavier than that. Damian considers the money appearing to be a miracle. He doesn't think about that the cash obviously came from somewhere. When that conclusion is foisted upon him, he has a conversation with St. Peter about what a “miracle” truly is. 

When the dad finally discovers the money, it's in the aftermath of their home being burglarized. Rather than give the cash away, as the boys had been doing, he spends it on stuff the family needs and a lot of stuff they want too. Is this a better or worst use of that money than giving it to charity? Does performing acts of kindness for others mean you deserve to have some nice stuff too? Or is returning the pounds to the government that intends on destroying it the most “correct” options? Eventually, the boy reaches a conclusion not that different from what “Shallow Grave” implied: Money doesn't have much of anything to do with what's right at all. These are serious considerations to have, quite heavy for a movie ostensibly targeted at ten year olds. “Millions” never judges its characters for any of the actions they choose. The audience, no matter how young they may be, are left room to come to their own conclusions. 

That's the not the only surprising way “Millions” doesn't talk down to its audience. This is, in many ways, a traditional coming of age story. The brothers are close but also sometimes at odds with each other. Anthony is a little older than Damian, more aware of their situation than his brother. He ogles an online bra catalogue at one point, the titillating element going over Damian's head. Ultimately, as different as the boys can be, they are still brothers. Lewis Owen McGibbon, who only has two other acting credits outside of this film, gives a naturalistic and lived-in performance. “Millions” does an excellent job of making it seem like the camera happens to be catching the normal, expected interactions between these young boys totally by chance. The weight and conflict between the brothers is a big reason why that works so well.

The relaxed, realistic tone that “Millions” captures is also reflected in how the film handles its most dramatic plot points. The Christmas setting, which eventually involves Damian acting in a nativity play, contrasts with the story of charity and giving. The death of the boys' mother always lingers in the background. Every time Damian talks to a saint, he asks them if there's a new saint in heaven yet, meaning he's waiting to hear back from his mom. At one point, Anthony uses the death of their mom as an excuse to escape punishment in school. As their dad begins a romance with another woman, the older brother becomes resentful of both their father trying to "replace" their mom and of his younger brother's naive inability to process the death. It's another way the film is surprisingly complicated in handling a subject that most kids movies would treat in a far more simplistic manner. Grief is complicated and everyone, kids included, handle it differently. 

What I'm saying is that "Millions" sees Danny Boyle adapting to the kid-friendly genre without sacrificing any of the style or substance that made most of his previous films good. In fact, you can tell he made this seemingly uncharacteristic movie directly after a horror flick. The villain in "Millions" is referred to only as "The Poor Man." He approaches Damian by the train tracks and the boy takes his claim of being an innocent wanderer at face value. (Anthony quickly becomes concerned that the man's interest in his brother is unwholesome in a decidedly more predatory fashion, another example of the film nodding at heavier themes than you'd expect.) He is, in fact, one of the robbers who took the money in the first place. He begins to pursue and blackmail the boy, determined to get his loot back. This manifests as Damian having reoccurring nightmares about the man's hand reaching for the mail slot or lurking in the wings of the school auditorium. It's actually kind of creepy. The antagonist becomes a representation of the guilt Damian feels for taking money that wasn't his, an idea that is processed in a way a kid that age could understand: Namely, a boogeyman coming to get him. 

Perhaps another reason "Millions" can get away with some of its more whimsical, fantastical touches is because the movie subtly establishes itself as taking place in a different world than ours right from the get-go. As an ignorant Yank, I was only vaguely aware of this but "Millions'" entire premise hinges on an event that did not happen in reality. The United Kingdom did not accept the Euro as their official form of currency. The British Pound is still in use, making the climatic crux of the film – spending all that money before it becomes valueless at the stroke of midnight – an invention of the writer. I don't know if Cottrell-Boyce and Boyle made the film with the expectation that the United Kingdom would eventually adopt the Euro or if the concept was always approached entirely as a "what if?" scenario. Either way, that makes "Millions" an extremely low-key work of alternate universe fiction. It's always a work of fantasy, Damian's daydreams being a more personal reflection of that. 

At one point, early in development, "Millions" was going to be a musical. Boyle hoped Noel Gallagher, famous as the songwriter and guitarist of the definitive nineties Britrock band and for publicly bickering with his brother, would write the songs. That certainly would have brought an all-together different layer to the theme of sibling rivalry in the story. Not to mention making the whimsical touches fit right in. Instead, Frank Cottrell-Boyce adopted his own screenplay into a novel while filming was underway. The book came out a little before the film and would win an award for excellence in British children's literature. The cinematic "Millions" made a modest little profit at the box office, unsurprisingly doing better in England than abroad. It's among the director's more overlooked films but I found it charming and sweet with a lot more depth, maturity, and style than is usually asked of for family-friendly entertainment. It's a movie from the director of "Trainspotting" and "28 Days Later" that you can watch with your mom and she'll probably like it too. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Danny Boyle (2001) - Part Two

 

8. Vacuuming Complete Nude in Paradise

 

“Strumpet” would air on the BBC in July of 2001. By the end of September of the same year, the second film to emerge between this collaboration between Danny Boyle and dramatist Jim Cartwright would debut on BBC Two. Which raises a second question: Who is Jim Cartwright anyway? I sure as heck don't know, because I'm not especially familiar with the world of modern British stage plays. If you are into that particular string of theatre, you probably already know who Mr. Cartwright is. He emerged onto the scene with his 1986 play, “Road,” a scathing and darkly funny condemnation of life in Thatcher's England. He became quickly acclaimed for his gritty and bizarre style, writing fifteen more plays, six other films, and an original novel. His subsequent work seems to vacillate between simplistic, single-word titles – other examples include “Bed,” “Baths,” and “Two” - and productions with more elaborate and unusual names, like “I Licked a Slag's Deodorant” and “The Ancient Secret of Youth and the Five Tibetans.” The film he wrote exclusively for television and Mr. Boyle has a title in that second tradition. “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” sure grabs your attention, doesn't it? The project would see Boyle fine-tuning the techniques he first discovered on “Strumpet.” 

Pete dreams of becoming a party DJ but has, thus far, seen little success for his beats. In the meantime, he assembles music for his stripper girlfriend's dance routines. While she performs at a retirement party for an elderly door-to-door vacuum sales man, Pete is offered a job. He's not especially interested in selling vacuum cleaners but his girlfriend demands he start pulling his weight. He is paired with Tommy Rag, a vulgar and violent veteran salesman who has devoted his entire life to selling vacuums to people who don't need them. Tommy dreams of winning the Golden Vacuum, the award given to the most successful salesman of the year. (In-between seducing lonely house wives and chastising his trainee for every mistake he makes.) Pete finds the world of sketchy salesmanship difficult to adapt to, often feeling guilty for the few sales he does make. After his girlfriend dumps him due to his continued lack of success, he accompanies Tommy to the ceremony for the Golden Vacuum. There, new paths in life emerge for both men. 

I found “Strumpet” to be too didactic in its themes, presenting its thoroughly well-trodden ideas of anti-corporate ranting within a story that couldn't decide if it wanted to be gritty and grounded or dreamy and fantastical. “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” has a similar point to make. This is another screed against the business world, depicting the life of a salesman as one devoted to cheating poor and desperate people out of what little money they have to sell them junk they don't need, all in the name of creating greater success and glory for the company and the individual. Tommy Rag is a thoroughly vile human being and his lack of a life outside his job contributes to that. Pete, meanwhile, longs to create music, to make art simply for the sake of it. Naturally, he ultimately finds self-fulfillment by pursuing his dream while Tommy Rag's life of relentless capitalistic greed leads to nothing but self-destruction. The message is clear as day: Do what makes you happy and don't worry about making money, because that will simply turn you into a wretched human being.

It's not exactly a fresh or revolutionary point to make. While "Strumpet" was mostly serious about its ideas, "Vacuuming Completely Nude" is a largely glib and outrageous comedy. It sees Boyle returning to the tone of "Trainspotting" or "Shallow Grave," creating humor by focusing on characters that regularly indulge in socially unacceptable behavior. Tommy's nonstop vulgarity, dancing erotically with castanets and a vacuum for a client, Pete's much more embarrassing and awkward attempt at sexual conquest, and opening with a striptease establishes the ribald and outrageous tone here. (Showing once again that BBC broadcast standards are a lot different from what we have in the U.S.) We are inhabiting a world here that is like our own but a little weirder and more unpredictable, Boyle adapting a thoroughly madcap and unhinged tone throughout. It is often hilarious, especially in the way Cartwright's script piles one unlikely event atop another. A particularly amusing sequence has Pete stumbling upon the recently deceased body of his elderly neighbor, whose hoarded collection of vintage newspapers end up combusted and adhered in pieces to his body. Tommy then summarizes each ancient new story on his protege's semi-nude body with odd specificity, multiplying the absurdity of the moment further. 

There are other ideas on the film's mind too. From the opening scene, where a decrepit old man is rewarded for a life of work with a naked young woman grinding on him, the film links a man's success in the business world with his sexual potency. Despite being a grotesque human being, in appearance and behavior, Tommy Rag's ability to sell a product also gives him the ability to seduce pliable. (Though not any woman he wants, as the attractive new employee to the agency is immune to his rat-like charm.) Pete's girlfriend, purring around in a skin-tight leather cat-suit, refuses him sex until he's made a sale. After he experiences seller's remorse, he goes for an unsettling quickie with the first available female – who is mentally disabled in some way – out of a need to re-assert his masculinity. The movie ends with a random burst of some S&M-like whipping, an inability to be successful as he envisioned turning a man into a rampaging, naked beast. It's an astute observation, that a man's desire to satisfy his sexual urges and the constant need for success demanded by the business world are not too dissimilar. Both must constantly be met or else risk frustration of the highest level. 

Notably, however, Pete's encounter with the disabled woman doesn't make him feel any better. He feels a lot worst, actually. The one vacuum sale he makes in the film is to a sickly, unemployed mother who is considering selling naked photographs – showing that our modern age of digital online sex work as a response to financial pressures are only the modern mutation of an older tradition – of herself to make end's meet. Her situation is so pathetic that Pete feels compelled to give her the money back. That results in his girlfriend denying him sex, calling him a “loser,” and leaving him. A man's worth in this world, right down to his sexual attractiveness, is often connected with his perceived “success.” Tommy's commitment to work gives him access to sexual conquests but the same barter leaves Pete feeling hollow, used, and filthy. By abandoning a life that insists a man is only worthwhile if he's taking advantageous of others does he find happiness. It's a lot deeper handling than “Strumpet's” worn-out insistence that corporate rock music sucks and D.I.Y. tunes are more real. 

It's all quite interesting but that's not the real reason “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” made such an impression on me upon this viewing. Instead, the film is totally dominated by a tornado of a performance. Timothy Spall plays Tommy Rag. His already let's call it “distinctive” appearance is further emphasized by crummy suits and garishly coufed hair. He enters the film spewing a cloud of profane, colorful dialogue at a rocket's pace. From then, he rarely slows down. Spall's thick-accented voice nevertheless wraps itself so naturally around Cartwright's creatively vulgar writing that it seems to be emerging totally naturally from his own brain. Rag is a repulsive figure, living out of his car, always coated with a fine layer of sweat, lascivious towards women, and taking every chance he has to make a sale. (Which includes trying to sell a vacuum cleaner to a seemingly homeless hitchhiker.) When he explodes into a violent fury at the film's conclusion, it's merely the natural escalation of his already unhinged energy. Despite that, Spall remains utterly captivating. It's the exact kind of attention grabbing sliminess that people like this possess in real life. You know they are dreadful but somehow the eye is drawn towards them nonetheless. 

In other words, the role is an ideal use of Spall's ability to dig fully into thickly scripted lines and become a physical dynamo of crazed force. Tommy Rag represents everything vile, cheap, and unbecoming about the world of commerce. As much as the character spends nearly his entire screentime being a grotesque villain, the film also grants him two surprising moments of serenity. Seemingly unprompted, while on hold over the phone, the character launches into a soft-spoken monologue describing a dream he had. It lends the film its odd title while also suggesting that, as monsterous as this man is, he does long for something simplier. His vision of an idyllic afterlife is one where he is done with the rat race, no longer needing to sell and can instead enjoy the bizarre tokens of the world he's absorbed himself in. A little while later, Spall gets another aside where he describes childhood memories, in which an innocent mind attempted to navigate a world that is far too often cruel. This provides context for the man Tommy Rag has become, while further suggesting that he has a lot more depth than his egotistical, materialistic attitude otherwise shows.  

These scenes represents rare moments of calm in a movie that is more often a storm of wild nervousness. Continuing the digital video cinematography Boyle first used on “Strumpet,” much of “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” is composed of grainy and sometimes handheld camerawork. When paired with Spall's whirling performance, it lends the entire movie a captivatingly wild feeling. When Rag's insane driving skills are displayed, the film often attached itself directly to the perspective of the car as it sails in and out of busy traffic. However, “Vacuuming Completely Nude” also looks a lot better than Boyle's earlier experiment with digital video. Much like Spall's striking monologues, the film pauses for shots of grungy beauty among the gritty settings. We see a degree of the same precise framing that made Boyle's earlier films so visually captivating here, in a shot of a face, a pregnant pause in a conversation as two lips are positioned at either end of the frame. 

The film seems much more in-tuned with its behind-the-scenes choice of technology too. Early on, the idea is introduced that soon the door-to-door salesman way of life will be utterly antiquated. A Japanese company is introducing younger workers to the company who will push the sales job into the realm of strictly by-phone and online orders. Tommy Rag doesn't know it yet – and refuses to acknowledge it, despite subconsciously sensing it – but he's the last of a species about to go extinct. Made in 2001, when the internet was quickly making in-roads into being an inescapable part of everyday life, “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” captures a moment when evolving technology was about to change everyone's life. That makes the choice of shooting the film on D.V., a newly emerging tech, all the more meaningful. 

Running only a little over an hour also works for the film. If expanded to any longer, it's sweaty and frantic vibe probably would have become exhausting or overbearing. Kept to a tight 75 minutes leaves “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” as a concussive blast to the viewer's brain. It's a darkly funny and bizarre look at the world of commerce that is suitably vivid and gritty in its visuals. Home to an earthquake causing performance from a character actor operating at the top of his power. That makes the film an easily overlooked gem in Boyle's career, a strong correction of the flaws of “Strumpet” and a propulsive bit of filmmaking in its own right. Absolutely seek this one out, if you can find it. [Grade: A-]

Director Report Card: Danny Boyle (1997)

 

5.  A Life Less Ordinary

 

The director, writer, and producer trio of Danny Boyle, John Hodge, and Andrew MacDonald had considerable success with their first two efforts. "Shallow Grave" and "Trainspotting" were both breakout box office successes, critically praised, and remain beloved cult classics to this day. Surely their third collaboration would be a similar hit, right? I'm sure that was the thought process everyone had when putting together "A Life Less Ordinary," especially the producers at Channel Four Films who put up much of the money for the film. Sadly, lightning would not strike a third time. "A Life Less Ordinary" would sink at the box office, receive middling reviews, and has largely been forgotten in the years since. It seems to me the only time the film comes up at all is when people are looking back on Boyle's career the way I am right now. Which begs the question: What went wrong on this third go-around between this team? 

Celine Naville is the daughter of a mega-rich businessman but she's miserable in her personal life. Her controlling father has set her up on a string of unsuccessful relationships, the latest with a mildly unhinged dentist. Robert Lewis is a janitor working for her dad's company, who dreams of becoming an author of trashy novels. Upon discovering he's been fired and replaced with a robot, Robert kidnaps Celine. Celine seems more bemused than threatened by her kidnapper's actions, seeing this as a chance to get some money from her dad, run off and live her own life. Robert proves to be an incompetent criminal and often takes pointers from his captive. The two hide out together, bicker, and slowly warm up to one another. Incensed, Celine sends two bounty hunters after the pair, giving them free range to murder the man responsible for kidnapping his rebellious daughter and to bring her back.

That sounds like a fairly standard story line, doesn't it? While I don't think the two filmmakers have much in common, Danny Boyle's previous features had attracted some comparisons to the films of Quentin Tarantino and the many imitators that followed in his wake. I suppose the focus on memorable soundtracks, stylized dialogue, and gritty stories suggest some similarities. In the abstract, "A Life Less Ordinary" does sound like one of those "Pulp Fiction" knock-offs, a hyper-verbal love story of two rogues on the run together. There are shoot-outs and car crashes and lots of colorful dialogue. More than anything else, there is an overall kind of tonal smugness from the material that suggests a desperate desire to be observed as cool by the viewer. It was 1997 and such things were still somewhat in fashion, kind of, I guess. "A Life Less Ordinary" is a film about beautiful people with trendy haircuts doing daring and exciting stuff together, with a sense of humor about itself and a level of stylish excess that seeks to impress. 

Perhaps, however, Boyle and Hodge were aware of how ordinary this script might have seen in the indie film landscape of the time. This might explain why "A Life Less Ordinary" instead veers sharply into the realm of magical realism. You see, the bounty hunters after Robert and Celine aren't ordinary enforcers. They are, in fact, angels sent from Heaven to ensure that Robert and Celine fall in love. Because, it would seem, making people fall in ever-lasting love is something angels concern themselves with. It's an insertion of a fantastical element in a film that otherwise doesn't have any fantasy elements.

Such a swerve might have successfully spiced up material that the audience had seen before but you can't start out as the new neo-noir from the director of "Shallow Grave" and "Trainspotting" and instead introduce explicitly divine intervention. You got a ease into that shit. To bring the guy up again and risk making it seem like I only know one nineties director/screenwriter, "From Dusk Till Dawn" deliberately turning from a stylized crime thriller to gory, outlandish creature feature is a tonal shift that worked. "A Life Less Ordinary" doesn't do that. It introduces the angelic conceit within its opening minutes before moving towards its more grounded elements, the otherworldly subplot weaving in and out of the story throughout.

That points towards what is probably the biggest problem with "A Life Less Ordinary." I called the film a neo-noir. It seems like a reasonable description, what with a story about kidnapping and ransom and young lovers on the run and sketchy hired guns. However, "A Life Less Ordinary" is actually a comedy. It is, in fact, an excessively wacky comedy. Characters have wildly specific personality quirks. Robert is always talking about his trashy novel idea, which everyone dismisses with the exact phrases. Celine is introduced playing William Tell with a revolver and an apple on her butler's head. (A butler who, it must be said, has a stereotypically droll British demeanor which is eventually subverted by his violent actions.) Timothy Olyphant shows up as a wide-eyed hitchhiker who does handstands. There's random appearances from an eccentric local played by Maury Chaykin, who speaks in an oddly specific manner, seems gripped by a degree of religious mania, and may or may not hear voices from his dog. There's a robot and a musical number and a game show themed dream sequence and a magic bullet that harmlessly passes through someone's heart.
 

Do you see what I'm saying here? Hodge's screenplay heaps quirks atop quirks. Heaven is depicted not as a divine afterlife full of clouds and harps, angels wearing wings and halos. Instead, it resembles something more akin to an office building under pressure from the superiors above – in this case, Yahweh himself – to make quotas. Gabriel is not a dignified archangel concerning himself with blowing the horn at the end of days. Instead, he's a frustrated, grumpy pencil pusher played by Dan Hedaya at his Dan Hedaya-iest. Oh, what a delightfully silly contrast between the fantastical and the mundane! And, ya know, that could've been funny. I actually love it when stories contrast the supernatural with otherwise normal daily drudgery. However, “A Life Less Ordinary” is trying so hard to be wild and crazy that all the ideas start to blend together. I actually think that musical number is one of the film's better moments. It stands alongside embarrassingly bad ones, like a fist fight with Stanley Tucci as that crazy dentist. I suppose, if the film's problem could be diagnosed in as few words as possible, it would be that it's trying too hard.

An overly ambitious screenplay that slingshots around multiple different zany ideas brings with it an uncertain tone. In addition to everything else, “A Life Less Ordinary” is also a self-aware example of the romantic comedy genre. From the minute Robert and Celine are thrown together by fate, we know they are going to fall in love. The movie knows that we know this too. It is the angels' mission to make sure these two get together. This acts as a self-reflective reasoning for the familiar but improbable cliches of the rom-com genre. The unlikely circumstances that bring these two together are the results of a heavenly conspiracy. The big romantic gesture Robert does to win Celine back after the end-of-the-second-act schism is a poem written by one of those same angels. This is basically the movie saying that it knows these cliches are hoary nonsense, the angels acting a bit like the writers of the screenplay trying to engineer these scenarios. However, doing a crappy old cliché while pointing out that it's a crappy old cliché isn't actually a subversion. It's the same old lazy writing with an extra hat of unearned pretensions atop it.

We all know that romantic comedies follow these silly and unlikely plot points. It comes with the territory, like the teenagers running off to have sex in a really dangerous place in the slasher movies. The best rom-coms overcome this shortcoming based on the strength and charm of their leads. The lack of suspense in knowing that the boy and the girl will end up together is made up for by the audience truly wanting to see them succeed. That might be the biggest area where “A Life Less Ordinary” fails. If we really liked Robert and Celine, it would make a lot of the other problems the film has more forgivable. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Celine remains antagonistic to Robert and everyone around her for most of the film. Robert comes across as a bullied and indecisive idiot. When the two fall into bed together, it does not feel like an natural event of the story but rather a contrivance. That's because it basically is, a manipulation from above, which is why a nudging acknowledgement of tropes is generally less desirable than an unironic embracing of them.

The lack of chemistry between Celine and Robert isn't only the fault of the script. Ewan McGregor stars as Robert and he does fine in the role. Even at this relative early stage of his career, McGregor was already a total professional. His skills are not enough to make a protagonist pushed around by the whims of the plot have more depth than he does. However, he's a reasonably entertaining lead. When paired with Cameron Diaz as Celine, something feels amiss. Diaz, an uneven talent on the best of days, hits mostly false notes here. She comes across as somewhat flat in her delivery throughout much of the movie. Her attempts to add some emotional sincerity or pathos to the material come across as forced or phony. This is most apparent in the morning after the characters sleep together for the first time. Diaz goes for sexy smoldering when a degree of vulnerability would've done a better job at making this pairing seem more natural.

Ultimately, what is a rom-com without a central couple that we can become invested in? Not that romantic and not that funny either. That makes the increasingly crazy decisions the script goes in seem all the sweatier. That same instinct is apparent in the supporting cast. “A Life Less Ordinary” actually has an impressive crop of names in its credits. Holly Hunter and Delroy Lindo are the angels on the couple's trail. Lindo's tough guy appearance is counteracted by a quiet, observational personality and the soul of a poet. Unfortunately, it comes across as yet another one of the movie's cloying bits than something more realized. Hunter, normally a reliable presence in any film, can do nothing but hopelessly ham her way through this material. That's actually the choice most of the secondary players made. Ian Holm as Celine's dad, Hedaya, Tucci and Tony Shaloub – whose role is especially inessential – grimace and flex their faces as cartoonish characters that never come across as anything more than annoying caricatures. 

Maybe it's only because so much of “A Life Less Ordinary” feels overburdened with its own desire to be wacky. However, the techniques Danny Boyle and his team utilized in his previous feature to electrifying effect come off as somehow both blander and more annoying here. Brian Tufano and Masahiro Hirakubo are back on cinematography and editing duties. The soundtrack remains hyper-specific and carefully chosen. However, the formula is off. A car chase sequence comes across as manic and overbearing, rather than energetic and captivating. The brief glimpses we get at that game show dream sequence are another excessive addition to a pot too full with ingredients already. By the end credits, where the story is resolved via stop-motion animated cartoon sequence, I was officially sick of “A Life Less Ordinary's” bullshit. The film represents the strengths of Boyle's previous two movies in a totally undisciplined and unbalanced form.
 

The first time I saw “A Life Less Ordinary,” I fucking hated it. I found its over-the-top sense of trying-too-hard whimsy unbearable. Based on how much I loved “Trainspotting” and “Shallow Grave,” perhaps I went in with overly high expectations. Either way, this was definitely not what I was expecting. Upon rewatch, I've upgraded my opinion from hatred to simply thinking the film is simply not good. Such a wild mismatch of tones and elements can still classify as only a fiasco, a wild miscalculation of all involved about what does and doesn't work together. However, that song and dance number actually isn't too bad. A quickly cut montage of Robert and Celine practicing tough-talking over the phone is pretty good. Buried, somewhere in this wild mishmash of ingredients, might have been a good film. This isn't it, however, and it would be a long time before Danny Boyle tried his hand at a romantic comedy again. [Grade: C-]