CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: The President's Man: A Line in the Sand (2002)

Finding ratings information for obscure television movies from twenty-four years ago is not always easily done. However, I can deduce a few things about the reception “The President's Man” got from audiences in 2000. It drew enough eyeballs for CBS to move forward with the project but not so many that a series order was immediately given. Instead, the greenlight was received for essentially a second pilot. This is typically what happens when a network sees something promising in a show but agrees that some bugs need to be ironed out. It doesn't always happen in public – and then archived forever via home video – as was the case here. “The President's Man: A Line in the Sand” would feature a lighter tone than the first and would recast the younger leading man opposite Chuck Norris. Another big difference was a reflection of how the world had changed between 2000 and January of 2002, when “A Line in the Sand” aired. This is the film that would bring the old school action style of Chuck Norris into the strange, strange era of post-9/11 jingoism. 

It would seem about three years have passed since the events of the first "President's Man" film. Deke Slater is now fully established as the American president's personal man of action, with Joshua McCord and his daughter Que acting as assistants. The U.S.A. is currently under threat by Fadhal Rashid, the head of a militant Islamic extremist faction. Rashid's followers have obtained a small nuclear bomb and successfully smuggled it into the United States, with plans to detonate it in a large city. Slater is air-dropped into the Middle East, where he blasts into Rashid's compound and captures the terrorist leader. However, Rashid's followers, most prominently his son Abir, remain at large and await a coded message from their leader. The plan becomes to sneak the dirty bomb into Dallas before setting it off. Slater and McCord leap into action to find the nuke, disarm it, and make the dastardly terrorists pay. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't indicate as much, "A Line in the Sand" is a distinctly different brand of propaganda from the first "The President's Man" film. The original had the good guys up against South American drug runners and nebulous "terrorists" of uncertain allegiance, connected to elderly enemies left over from the Cold War. Pretty old hat by 2000. The sequel, meanwhile, positions a seemingly Sunni Islamic jihadist as the mastermind behind a plot to kill countless Americans. Al-Qaeda and the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center are mentioned by name. The words "weapons of mass destruction" are spoken. Rashid is described as Pakistani like Ramzi Yousef, the organizer of the aforementioned attack. However, his tendency to issue video recorded statements from his secret hiding place and his connections to Saudi Arabia also makes him a clear Osama bin Ladin parallel, already a notorious figure by the late nineties. What is not mentioned is 9/11. IMDb's frequently inaccurate information lists "A Line in the Sand's" filming date as May of 2001. If that is correct is true, any relation to the events that would happen later that year were unintentional. (Assuming you don't believe in certain conspiracy theories.) 

However, the film still operates totally in-line with American attitudes after the towers fell. The bad guys are all brown religious extremists who hate the U.S.A. and everyone who lives there as a course of belief. We are the infidels that should be scourged with holy fire. Certainly no mention is made of how the foreign policy of the U.S. and our allies might have radicalized any persons, real or fictional, against us. There are two very weird scenes in "The President's Man II." The first sees McCord – now upgraded to a college professor on all foreign cultures, I guess, not just the Japanese – argue against a student who believes we should indiscriminately nuke all of the Middle East. Chuck's character clarifies that violent terrorists make up a tiny percentage of all Muslims worldwide. That we should not correlate an entire faith with the actions of a few extremists. Later, an American Muslim fires back at Rashid, saying that his bloody schemes are actually in defiance of Muhammad's teachings and that Islam is a religion of peace. These moments stand in stark contrast to the multiple scenes of our white heroes kicking and gunning down brown baddies in turbans and robes. 

These scenes remind me of a speech George W. Bush made in the aftermath of 9/11, denouncing anti-Islamic prejudice here and abroad. Words he presumably spoke before approving military actions in Afghanistan that contributed to the estimated 46,319 civilians killed during the resulting twenty year war. In other words, cinematic moments such as these and their real life parallels read as deeply insincere. "A Line in the Sand" is a film about a bad-ass American being dropped into the Middle East and single-handedly capturing a terrorist leader. Its back half features scenes of red-blooded patriots extra-judicially kicking the asses of stereotypical Middle Eastern terrorists. These are very weird contexts in which to place pleas that your nearest masque has nothing to do with Al-Qaeda. This is aggravated propaganda meant to inflame American hearts and minds against our nebulous enemies, that would soon be the central targets of the war on terror that the U.S. enacted shortly after this movie was filmed. 

I must also say that "The President's Man: A Line in the Sand" is not especially good propaganda.  In the first film, Dylan Neal played Deke Slater as a hot-headed, standoffish jerk who was only beginning to defrost. The character is recast with Judson Mills in this sequel. This was supposedly because of scheduling conflicts. However, Mills plays Slater in such a wildly different manner from Neal that it might as well be a different character, suggesting that this was a deliberate change. Mills' take on the guy is largely jovial, often making sarcastic observations. I would not say this is an improvement, as Mills is actually more wooden and stiff in his acting than Neal was. He's a bright-eyed hunk of meat with a strong chin but delivers all his dialogue like a surprised baby. There's little charisma or screen presence. I did not find myself invested in the character or enchanted by Mills' acting, making it hard to care too much about any of the shit that happens here. 

Judson Mills' appearance here follows a starring role in the last two seasons of “Walker, Texas Ranger.” One assumes that his character was introduced on that show to do the kind of action hero stunts that Chuck Norris was aging out of. That is obviously the case here too. Norris has surprisingly little to do in the first half of “A Line in the Sand.” He spends a lot of the movie standing behind a desk, looking at a screen, and speaking into a com-link. Mills, meanwhile, is doing all the running, leaping, kicking, and punching. I figured this would be the state of affairs throughout all of “A Line in the Sand,” the then-61 year old Chuck Norris having retired to mentor roles. However, the last act of the sequel sees Joshua McCord surprisingly joining the action. This got my hopes up that we might actually see Chuck Norris do some Chuck Norris shit in this motion picture. Unfortunately, “The President's Man II” was made during the era when no attempt at all was being made to disguise that its action star was an old, old man now. The film sees Norris' character doing shit like triple back flips through the air or leaping several feet onto a pipe without any issue. The most action Norris himself has is defusing a bomb, a protracted sequence if I've ever seen one. 

In fact, the action scenes in “A Line in the Sand” are some really silly business. When Slater is fighting off bad guys, his favorite move is a somersault kick that seems to violate the law of gravity to me. During the aforementioned triple back flip, Chuck's character is also accurately firing a gun. The film gets goofier as it goes on, the finale featuring the heroes delivering superhuman blows that launch their opponents across the room. All I can figure is this was some half-ass attempt to catch up with the exaggerated action theatrics of “The Matrix” and the wave of films it inspired. In general, the film is infected with a fatal cheesiness that outstrips the original. There's a random jet pack sequence. Multiple training montages or sparring sessions are scored to hilariously bad rap songs. While some camp value can be derived from ridiculous moments, the impression the film leaves a viewer with is that the project's vision far outstripped its available resources. 

Truthfully, most of “The President's Man II: A Line in the Sand” is dull. The action scenes are repetitive and rare. Far more of the film is devoted to people standing around and talking about shit. Its obviously Islamophobic content is interesting from an anthropological perspective, as a relic of a time that we have hopefully moved past, but is just reheated bullshit in execution. While I can imagine a perspective “President's Man” series further building off the national mood of blind jingoism and paranoia that would follow, not even that was enough to get the public interested in this one. The film would be the end of this particular franchise. More dire than the already pretty lame original, this film represents the point where it dawned on me that watching all of Chuck Norris movies might have been a mistake. [4/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 2 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

 

 

 

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: The President's Man (2000)

After nine seasons and two hundred and three episodes, “Walker, Texas Ranger” would hang up his silver star in May of 2001. Presumably because he had roundhouse kicked every bank robber, crime boss, drug runner, human trafficker, Neo-Nazi, Satanist and skinwalker in Texas. Chuck Norris was not going to take it easy though. Instead, a year before “Walker” ended, he was already trying to get a follow-up going. CBS would air “The President's Man” on April 2nd of 2000, Norris Brothers Production having their logo right at the front of the presentation. As with “Logan's War,” the perspective series being set up by this TV movie would place Norris in more of a mentor role, while a younger, more agile performer shared the spotlight. In this case, Dylan Neal, another stout-chinned hunk of meat TV actor whose career never quite took off. Did it work better on a second go-around? 

It turns out that the President of the United States has a special operative, a secret agent infiltrator and all-around bad-ass, that answers to him and him alone. The current President's Man is Joshua McCord, a Vietnam veteran, college professor of Asian history, and martial arts expert. After rescuing the First Lady from South American terrorists, McCord fears he is getting too long in the teeth. Along with his daughter, Que, they seek out a protege. They find one in Sgt. Deke Slater, an Army Ranger who got dishonorably discharged for punching out a commanding officer and is now serving a thirty year prison sentence for killing a White Supremacist in a jail yard brawl. Slater is sprung from jail and taken under McCord's wing, the hot head bristling against the expert during the grueling training. Soon, the team is back in South America, seeking out a kidnapped nuclear physicist being blackmailed into building a nuke for the drug cartel. A cartel led by a former South Vietnamese general that McCord has unfinished business with.

 

The opening of "The President's Man" features Chuck Norris parachuting out of a stealth bomber, dispatching some baddies via knife throws and window dives, before paragliding the First Lady to safety. As this happens, a musical sting on the soundtrack that sounds suspiciously like the James Bond theme plays. This clarifies "The President's Man" as an attempt to do some super spy antics on an extremely TV budget. The drop out of the airplane features some sketchy CGI. Unlike the always horny Bond, McCord never makes any moves towards the totally grandmotherly First Lady, because that wouldn't fit television standards. For a movie about global politics and black operations, the sets and locations are seriously limited. The top secret training center for the presidential hit squad looks a lot like a suburban gym or recreational center. They hang off monkey bars, get kicked in the chest while doing pull-ups, and throw knives at spinning targets. A lot of the international missions seem to take place in sparsely forested fields surrounding farm houses. I really wouldn't expect a movie about the president's personal Rambo to feature this many scenes in offices, ranches, and sheds. 
 

The cheap production values of "The President's Man" point towards the film's status as basically the pilot for a series and not a work meant to stand alone. You also see this in the story structure. Within this ninety minute runtime, we see: The rescue of the First Lady, the botched mission that got Slater kicked out of the Army and dumped in prison, his first mission with McCord to snatch a Senator's daughter from a weird cult compound, and the saving of the nuclear scientists from some sadistic foreigners. Each of these story threads essentially stand alone, making "The President's Man" feel less like a single narrative and more like a couple of scripts for different episodes shoved together. The connecting fiber is devoted to the repetitive scenes of Slater training with McCord and his daughter, the kind of standard sequences used to establish the general set-up of a weekly show at the start of every hour. If "Logan's War" was an attempt to squeeze a whole backstory for a hero and his first adventure into one movie, "The President's Man" is an even shakier test-run for a concept more ready to air every Wednesday at 9PM than be watched as a complete story in its own right. 

One of the movies that makes up the episodic structure of “The President's Man” is basically a TV series version of “Missing in Action.” It's interesting how the television star portion of Norris' career saw him recycling ideas from his movie roles. “Walker” was “Lone Wolf McQuade” while “Logan's War” drew a little from “The Delta Force” and “Good Guys Wear Black.” This one makes McCord a Vietnam veteran. Much like Braddock, he has a Vietnamese wife and a child with her. As in “Missing in Action III,” she's murdered. To make the connection all-but-explicit, Soon-Tek Oh plays the killer who has returned, after previously appearing as the sadistic general in “Missing in Action II.” Chuck was too old at this point to take on-screen abuse so Dylan Neal gets strung up by the villains, shirtless and soaking wet, for an electrified torture scene. Braddock had a son that he didn't know about for years while McCord has a daughter that has grown up with him, Jennifer Tung playing the female lead. “The President's Man” also emphasizes this Chuck hero as a master of martial arts, who even gives lectures on samurai culture and practices zen meditation. Nevertheless, it would not take a lot of editing to make this a years later TV continuation of the “Missing in Action” flicks.

Does any of this prove especially entertain or interesting? The bits where Chuck is playing a wise sensai, especially when he's simply reading a book while his protege blusters around, are mildly amusing. While most of his kicks and punches continue to come from off-screen at this point, he does get a semi-decent fight with Soon-Tek Oh. The opening incursion he does got me to smile once or twice. Unfortunately, the action throughout is mostly extremely unremarkable. As a lead, Dylan Neal is astonishingly uninteresting. He's got a swell chin and a heroic build but little in the way of charisma or screen presence, instead merely acting like a generic tough guy. This is most apparent in the training montages, of which are there are many and all of them are quite dramatically inert. Jennifer Tung is a little more interesting and it was nice to see Stuart Whitman, in his final role, as Chuck's mentor. Sadly, most everything about “The President's Man” resists being memorable or compelling at all.

The greatest value “The President's Man” has might be as unintentional comedy. The film features an extremely corny inspirational rock song during its training montage, both of which made me laugh from how repetitive they are. Another quirk that's impossible not to notice is the awful sound design. Every punch sounds like a thunder crack, which because especially funny when Neal is driving several into a random goon's face at once. In general, this one is very cheap, extremely derivative and lame in its narrative, and doesn't present us with any characters to care about much. It's directed like an unambitious episode of television, which is more-or-less what it is. I guess it's a little more entertaining than “Logan's War,” if only becomes Chuck has more to do – despite really, really starting to show his age – and at least it's not 70% set-up. Consider this damning with the faintest of praise. [5/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 3 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
[] Shows Off His Hairy Chest*
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

*Chuck has a shirtless scene but, extremely distressingly, he has obviously shaved! 

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Logan's War: Bound by Honor (1998)

By 1998, “Walker, Texas Range” had been running for seven seasons. This was clearly a deal that had worked out for Mr. Norris and his bosses at CBS. Why not expand this surely profitable partnership some? That year would see the network airing “Martial Law,” a similar series mixing police procedural elements with martial arts and starring an action icon: Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan's old pal. While not a direct spin-off, Sammo would crossover with “Walker” and the show was clearly an attempt to recreate its success. A direct “Walker” spin-off would follow next year, with “Sons of Thunder.” That program only ran for six episodes but at least it made it to series. The same cannot be said for “Logan's War: Bound by Honor,” a TV movie Norris co-starred in that aired after a new “Walker” episode on November 1st of '98. 

Logan Fallon is the ten year old son of a district attorney. The boy seemingly has psychic premonitions of danger. His dad prepares a case against gangster Sal Mercado, despite his son's warning. This leads to the Fallon family being assassinated, Logan as the sole survivor. He's adopted by his uncle Jake, a former Army Ranger/kickboxing expert who has retired to a horse ranch following years of adventures. Logan swears vengeance against the mobsters who killed his parents and sister. Uncle Jake teaches him everything he knows, Logan following in his footsteps by becoming an Army Ranger. After returning home, Logan goes undercover in the Chicago mob, posing as a hit man. His final plan is to infiltrate the Mercado operation until he's close enough to take out Sal himself. 

By 1998, Chuck Norris would be pushing sixty. While “Walker” would run for another two seasons, it was clear that the action star could not pull off those roundhouse kicks and spin punches with quite the same level of limberness as he did in his glory days. Obviously, the instinct is to pass the baton onto to the next generation of acrobatic brawlers who can't act. Thus, “Logan's War” sees Norris stepping into a mentor role. The title character is played by Eddie Cibrian, Chuck mostly appearing at the beginning and end of the film. Honestly, it's a shift that Norris had been building towards for a long time. He was already depicting himself as a teacher to younger characters in “The Hitman,” “Sidekicks,” and “Forest Warrior.” Amusingly, while the film mostly sees Chuck passing on his knowledge and teaching Cibrian his bad-ass ways, he does leap right back into action at the end. In fact, “Logan's War” sees Chuck pulling off his trademark move of jump-kicking through a car's windshield. The implication is clear: Younger dudes must appear to fill these roles but that doesn't mean grandpa still can't kick some ass too, presumably in a reoccurring guest role in future episodes. 

While the star's production company would come onto “Walker” after the premise had already been conceived, “Logan's War” is based on a story by the Norris brothers. This means that, while the aging Lone Wolf does not play the title character, Logan is still blatantly a Chuck Norris type hero. Uncle Jake is a cowboy and an Army Ranger and an expert in melee combat. He passes all these skills onto Logan, who has a glorious and commendable career in the Army as well as being highly skilled in kicking and fighting. “Logan's War” also has the new guy involved in a very Norris-like subplot, wherein he defends a troubled woman and her young son from an abusive, shit-head boyfriend. This plot point contributes to the story in no meaningful way, there strictly to show audiences how noble and tough this guy is. That the script goes the extra mile and gives Logan an actual superpower is almost unnecessary. He's already hyper-capable and able to fight his way out of any situation.

Unsurprisingly, this means that Logan's precognitive abilities basically disappear from the story about half-way through. Why the guy has some sort of Spidey Sense is never explained. This is another symptom of “Logan's War” making its hero such a talented guy. The script is hopelessly top-heavy, as it sets up all of Logan's back story. First the extensive flashbacks to establish his need for vengeance. Then the lengthy training and sparring sessions and brave army record. By the time Logan is actually infiltrating the mob, “Bound by Honor” is already half-way over. The guy's trip into the criminal underground doesn't amount to much beyond some rough-housing, a quickly executed initiation ritual, and one hit. Is that all it takes to become a made man? When he pulls a gun on all the gangsters and reveals his true identity, nobody seems that shocked. Probably because they barely know this guy and have little reason to trust him anyway. 

Indeed, why should the audience give a shit about Logan either? Eddie Cibrian does not have the action star legacy of Chuck Norris. He was predominantly a pretty boy TV guy, having previously starred on “The Young and the Restless,” “Sunset Beach,” and the supernatural investigation spin-off of “Baywatch.” He can convincingly deliver a kick. Or at least swap places with a stunt double decently. He simply doesn't have much charisma. This pairs with a presentation that is nothing but workmanlike. Director Michael Preece was a TV lifer, whose most prominent work includes seventy episodes of “Walker” and sixty of “Dallas.” Which is to say that “Logan's War” never looks anything more than average, the blocking being extraordinarily standard and the imagery largely bland. I'm honestly surprised that the film features some passable action in its back half. When Chuck is punching and kicking, the film almost starts to feel a little more lively. 

While “Logan's War: Bound by Honor” ends with its title character getting his revenge, the film was clearly still designed to launch a series. The final scene has the protagonist being asked what he plans to do next, the obvious implication being that more adventures are to come. With Chuck still starring on “Walker” at the time, I suppose Uncle Jake would have only made occasional guest appearances. We'll never know, since no further installments followed. Considering how hard the film leans into the cowboy angle, not much effort was taken to avoid comparisons to “Walker” anyway. Mostly thanks to a story more focused on set-up than pay-off and a lead lacking any charm, “Logan's War” is a snooze. I'm glad Chuck got to fly through the wind shield of a car one more time though. [4/10]

[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

*Wears a low-cut tank top during a sparring scene, the Carpet of Virility briefly visible

Director Card Report: Julius Onah (2015)

Who is Julius Onah? He's a filmmaker you might not have heard of. Well, he's the son of a Nigerian diplomat. After a bunch of short films made all over the world and a little seen debut, he directed a much-hyped but poorly received entry into a popular sci-fi franchise. His third feature, “Luce,” got him the best reviews of his career so far, which seemingly caught the attention of Disney and Marvel. Yes, this is the latest obscure indie director that Marvel has scooped up for one of their high-profile superhero projects. Is Onah a work-for-hire professional with little personal connection to his films – chosen by a big studio because he'd be easy to boss around – or is he actually a distinctive filmmaker with a vision all his own? I decided to find out before watching the new “Captain America” movie. 

1. The Girl Is in Trouble

Being the son of a diplomat who was friends with the Clintons, you would think, would give Julius Onah opportunities and access that other people don't have. And I'm sure it did. However, he maintains his roots were humble. He studied theater in Connecticut and film at NYU. While in school, he made several short films. Most of these are available to watch on his website with a very annoying menu design. Some of these shorts are rather amateurish, with rather ropey acting and some choppy camera work. However, Onah's early work does show a reoccurring interest in how people connect and interact.  As well as voice-over narrations and cleverly edited montages. Of the shorts I watched, the highly personal “Goodbye Chicken, Farewell Goat” and the dialogue-free “Linus” are probably the best. 

It was during this time that Onah also began working as an intern for Spike Lee. Hollywood is all about who you know, naturally, and Lee clearly gave Onah the boost he needed to get his first feature made. That would be “The Girl Is in Trouble” and Spike was an executive producer on it, allowing his name to be slapped on the key art. Not that this did to much to sell the movie. “The Girl Is in Trouble” sat on a shelf for two years before finally finding distribution. Entertainment One would give the film one of its standard, tiny theatrical release and same day/same date VOD release, where it gained very little attention. In fact, I had not heard of the film at all until I looked up its director. In light of his more high-profile later work, it's worth going back and checking out his debut. 

August is a struggling DJ living in New York City, hoping to make his dream come true but unable to get into most clubs. After another disappointing night, he receives a phone call from Sidge, a Swedish singer he met at a club months before. She ends up back at his apartment, the two hooking up. What seems to be a simple booty call soon turns into something much darker. Sidge has a video on her cell phone of a man murdering another man. She claims to have recorded it the night before during a date gone wrong. August recognizes the dead man in the video as Jesus, the brother of drug dealer, Angel. Angel is well aware of what happened too, looking for the people responsible for killing his brother. The strangler in the clip is Nicholas, the son of a rich but crooked Wall Street banker. August debates over whether to trust Sidge as the vengeful Angel increasingly closes in on them. 

One of the earliest scenes in “The Girl Is in Trouble” is also one of its most interesting. In one of many voice over monologues, August describes how he knows Signe. How she is a girl he met at a bar, got her number, but never got a call back. This opens up a web of connections he has with all the other characters in the plot, most of them he knows strictly through social media. This raises an intriguing question. In this era when so much of our social interactions happen through screens, how do you truly define a “friend?” Because you added someone on Facebook or Instagram deson't mean that you can trust them or that they have any special loyalty to you. The brief glimpses we get at these social media profiles are already hilariously dated, resembling old Myspace profiles. However, considering what personal connections and friendships mean in our computerized age is certainly worth asking. 

Unfortunately, this scene is also the only time “The Girl Is in Trouble” actually considers that idea. Instead of looking at modern issues, it is much more concerned with looking back. The film is more about invoking classical film noir tropes. The title is also a one sentence summary of more than a few classic noirs, often starting with a woman in peril. The titular girl is also the archetypal femme fatale. Sidge is beautiful and uses her sex appeal to manipulate men, while her own loyalties remain impossible to determine. August is an everyman protagonist who gets in over his head, a simple act of kindness soon involving him in a crime land saga of sex, drugs, and murder. And there's no guarantees of who will make it out of this story alive. 

The piece of evidence driving the plot of “The Girl Is in Trouble” is a video recording of a murder. This is a murder mystery where we seem to have concrete evidence of who the killer is from the beginning. Instead, the mystery comes from figuring out the exact circumstances that lead to that murder. When that is finally revealed in the last third, it seems a lot more reasonable than we might expect. That proceeds another death, the motivation of which is also rather understandable, albeit in a totally different way. Ultimately, “The Girl Is in Trouble” runs with the very noir-like idea that every crime is justifiable by those that commit them, given the circumstances. 

While Onah clearly has some interesting thoughts in mind about playing with noir conventions and the nature of crime, “The Girl Is in Trouble” forgets an important ingredient: Making a coherent plot filled with characters that we actually care about. While that early montage about social media is one of the film's best moments, it also drops a lot of names, faces, and information on us. The details go by so quickly that it's a bit tricky to keep track of everything. Unfortunately, all those different parts are integral to “The Girl Is in Trouble's” storyline. The script simply has too many moving parts. The inclusion of drugs all throughout the story – seemingly every character casually snorts some lines – or the role of investment banking in the script all seem to be specific commentary on various issues. How it connects in a meaningful way to the rest of the plot is less apparent. By the time a foul-mouthed sex worker wanders into the plot, I was truly wondering what the importance of all these plot points are.

Within “The Girl is in Trouble's” web of storylines are several subplots that remain hopelessly undeveloped. August and Sidge form a romance of sorts. Obviously, the first interaction we see between them is physically intimate. However, as the story progresses, it is clear that August actually starts to like the girl. This is despite her own erratic behavior, that includes pointing a knife at him at one point. A man falling for an obviously dangerous woman and overlooking clear red flags because he's enamored is probably the most common plot device in all of noir. However, Sidge still seems to be a character that changes with the whims of the story. This leaves the love story, what would otherwise be the centerpiece of the plot, hopelessly uninvolving. Why does August fall for this girl so hard? We never truly find out.

There are signs of a bigger story here. August mentions his hand shaking at one point, but that he has no funds to see a doctor, a bit of information that is never brought up again. He dreams of becoming a DJ, while Sidge wants to be a singer. There is this thought throughout the film that it's hard out there for an artist these days, that trying to live in New York while working in the creative fields is an economic impossibility. Similarly, Jesus turns back to dealing drugs right after getting out of prison because he has no other prospects. This is in contrast with the rich kid Nicholas. While these discussions of economic and class divides are interesting, they never emerge into a worthwhile point. In fact, “The Girl Is in Trouble” doesn't seem to be making any clear statement about class divides aside from how much they suck.

Most of the characters are immigrants and that's a bit of attempted social commentary too. Sidge is Swedish, Angel and Jesus have roots in the Dominican Republic, and Nicholas' family were European Jews that came to New York decades ago. August, meanwhile, is from Nigeria, an attribute he shares with the film's director. (Making you wonder if August isn't something of an author's surrogate.) That means “The Girl Is in Trouble” is also a movie about coming from another culture to New York. This element also doesn't develop into a coherent point. However, it is more interesting, as it so clearly reflects the director's personal experience. There's a lot more detail and color to this side of the script and it's no doubt because Onah was drawing from putting his own lived experiences in. 

Life as a member of multiple cultures was a reoccurring theme in Onah's short films. You see a few of his other trademarks from his early work making its way into his debut. “The Girl Is in Trouble” features a lot of voice over narration from the protagonist, a device Onah utilized in several of his shorts. This is paired with interestingly edited montages, sometimes with text on-screen, something else he did a lot. Presumably as a shout-out to the movie's executive producer, Onah also includes several of the dolly-shots that are the visual quirk everyone knows from Spike Lee. That was a nice touch.

Aside from Lee, the other recognizable name above the title on the poster is Wilmer Valderrama. Ya know, Fez from “That's '70s Show.” Valderrama has, inconceivably, managed to successfully reinvent himself as a tough guy character actor in the years since his sitcom days. That's the mode Valderrama is operating in here, giving a perfectly serviceable performance as Angel, a violent thug with a sense of honor about his family. He's not the star of the movie though. That would be Columbus Short, best known for the television series “Scandal” and the “Stomp the Yard” movies, I guess. Short is likable enough, managed to insert a degree of understated charisma into the character of August. That's more than Alicja Bachleda can do as Signe. She makes for a convincing unhinged woman of questionable morals but can't bring any further complexity to the part. 

Ultimately, “The Girl Is in Trouble” is the kind of indie movie we don't exactly have a shortage of. It's a genre riff with an ensemble cast, using some cultural specificity to help sell a movie without much star wattage. We get roughly a dozen of those every year and most of them go straight-to-VOD and aren't seen by many people. (Sometimes they get slapped with advertising artwork that present gritty crime dramas as if they were shoot-em-up action movies, a marketing deception that never fails to amuse me.) This is probably why “The Girl Is in Trouble” sat on the shelf for a while before slipping out into the public. It's not a terrible movie. It actually shows some promise. However, a muddled screenplay and a lack of distinct characters ultimately makes it a deeply forgettable experience. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2022)

7. Panama

Directed by Mark Neveldine

In 2021, Vulture published an article delving into the somewhat sketchy business dealings of producer Randall Emmett. Emmett built a mini-empire of low-budget, direct-to-VOD action movies in which washed-up stars of old get top-billing for appearing in a handful of scenes, while generic theatrics starring much cheaper actors happen around them. The article would provide an extremely useful name for this style of movie, which has somehow proliferated over the last decade: The geezer teaser. You get a geezer, film enough scenes with him to qualify as a “teaser,” stick his name above the title and his face on the DVD box, and fill the rest of the 90 minutes out with whatever. It's a classic exploitation movie model that, despite the death of video stores and Redbox, has proliferated. The incredibly depressing last ten years of Bruce Willis' career was made up almost entirely of these kind of movies, for only the most prominent example. 

Considering his horribly racist antics have slowly made him hard to hire for big budget productions, it's no surprise that Mel Gibson would find steady work in this niche. In 2022, Mel would lent his fading star power to five such films. They have generic names like “Hot Seat,” “Agent Game,” “Bandit,” or “On the Line” and not a single soul alive can recall actually watching any of them. Rarely are the filmmakers behind these strictly mercenary productions any one especially notable. There are exceptions though. Mark Neveldine, half of the ostensibly talented team that brought us the “Crank” movies, would take a paycheck making one of these in 2022. And that is why I'm talking about “Panama,” sure to be among the least notable motion pictures I will ever write about. 

As the title suggests, “Panama” is set in 1989, right before the United States' invasion of the titular country. Retired bad-ass Becker is drinking away his grief over a dead wife. An old co-worker named Stark approaches him with an employment opportunity. Becker is hired by the CIA to go undercover in Central America. He is to infiltrate the local casino and drug trafficking business to help purchase a helicopter for Contra rebels in a scheme designed to assassinate Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega. Becker soon gets in over his head, making friends and enemies, falling in love with a beautiful woman named Camila, and becoming sympathetic to those fighting against the military regime. 

By some extraordinary circumstances, “Panama” was not produced by Randall Emmett. His movies are usually distributed by Liongates. This one was put out by Saban Films – yes, the “Power Rangers” guys – who have also had a hand in plenty of movies like this. Despite no association with the King of the Geezer Teasers, “Panama” still checks off all the boxes to qualify. Gibson's face takes up the most room on the poster, his name above the title, despite having maybe ten minutes of screen time throughout the film. Mostly in the beginning and end, with a couple of scenes of him talking on the phone peppered throughout. Instead, a lumbering Cole Hauser is the actual star of the movie. There's an abundant amount of female nudity, plenty of sex, lots of guns, and a moderate amount of explosions and shoot-outs. One of the CIA guys we see at the start of the movie turns out to be a bad guy at the end. It's all extremely routine.

One can't help but assume that films of this type are primarily rented, bought, and watched by the most non-discerning of audiences. By which I mean old guys. The geezer teaser is designed to appeal to exactly the kind of facile macho wish fulfilment fantasies of its ideal viewer. “Taken” is the bigger budget predecessor to the entire genre, a movie specifically design to appeal to dads looking to re-establish their masculine powers despite being well into the second half of their lives. Fittingly, the hero of “Panama” is a semi-retired tough guy who is wracked with guilt over the death of a wife, having crawled into a bottle to cope. His adventure here takes him to an exotic land where he gets to show that he's still a bad-ass and hop into bed with another beautiful woman, while still nebulously seeking revenge for the death of his first wife. The very first scene even includes Gibson, in voiceover, describing what a certified action hero this guy is and how kicking ass and taking names for the U.S. of A. is the best feeling in the world. 

In other words, “Panama” is lowest common denominator stuff, designed to thrill and titillate only the most bored of customers. Despite that obvious goal, the film has a surprisingly convoluted plot. One might even call it needlessly convoluted. The story involves our hero making deals, manipulating, back-stabbing, and bossing around a number of shady drug lords, rebel types, and high rollers. I'll admit, I lost track of the story almost immediately. “Panama” works through a plethora of subplots and supporting characters as it winds through its glacially paced 95 minute runtime. Faces come and go, often getting shot, but not a one of them make an impression, much less what purpose they serve in this meandering narrative.

That's the dirty secret of the geezer teaser. Well, the other one, after the obvious fact that the washed-up action icon promised on the Netflix thumbnail won't actually do that much. No, despite ostensibly luring the audience in with action movie cheap thrills, these movies are frequently uneventful. Still, within the realm of this underachieving subgenre, “Panama” is an especially egregious example. An overwhelmingly large percentage of this motion picture is made up of people sitting around in rooms and talking. Becker talks to rebel leaders in underground bunkers. He talks to drug kingpins in their hotel rooms, by the pool, on their balconies. He makes deals at the casino, answer phone calls in bed and on the couch. For a film that promises big action, “Panama” mostly delivers a lot of sitting around and talking it out. 

Why this is the case is not too difficult to discern. Obviously, “Panama” is mostly dudes sitting in rooms because that's a whole lot cheaper to do than actual action scenes. That cheapness radiates off this entire production. There are many signs throughout that very little money was available here. Every time a gun fire, a cheap-looking CGI muzzle flair is utilized. The characters outright reference “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns 'n' Roses before instead playing a generic piece of rock music, cause this movie had nowhere near the funds to licenses a well known song. The most hilariously cheap sequence in the film arrives when Becker is challenged to a dirt bike race by the secondary antagonist. What follows is a messy montage of close-ups of the actual actors on bikes, wearing helmets, and quite clearly barely moving cut together with far-off shots of stuntmen on the same bikes doing all the actual racing. To further sell this half-assed illusion, there are several shots in which the camera was mounted to the side of the bike... Meaning the riders' asses are right in our faces. A bold cinematic choice there, let me tell ya. 

The handful of times “Panama” actually does attempt to function as an action movie are equally underwhelmed. A shoot-out between Contra rebels and government backed enforcers is haphazardly edited, to the point of near incoherence. Mel Gibson does actually appear to kick a dude in one scene. At 66 years old, Mel was still a more convincing action figure than Cole Hauser. Burly, somewhat doughy Hauser shuffles like an arthritic sasquatch through a handful of fight scenes. The most embarrassing of which is a very slow foot chase down a flight of stairs, the filmmakers desperately attempting to make this mundane scene look exciting through a rapid fire succession of edits. When that doesn't work – which it never does – the film leans on some shaky, handheld camera instead. 

While it's hard to read that last factoid as a positive measure, it is one of the few signs that half of the team who made “Crank” was responsible for this movie. Mark Neveldine's visual style has always featured gritty, frantic camera work. Aside from that, the Neveldine/Taylor style can be spotted briefly a few other times. Military insurgents playing their machine guns as if they are guitars, while epic riffs play on the radio and shooting at bad guys, is the kind of over-the-top, self-consciously ridiculous macho thing you'd expect from these guys. The irreverent and edgy dialogue is also apparent in Gibson's voiceover narration, which often feels like tossed-off one-liners Mel recorded during a lunch break. Also, a minor character has the middle name of “Fagoth,” the sort of willfully offensive comedy that crops up in the more Tromatastic moments of the directors' work.

Other than that, it feels like any old hack could've directed “Panama.” The film also includes plenty of the leering sexism that cropped up in the “Crank” flicks and “Gamer.” Not that this is unique to Mark Neveldine. However, even by the standards of low budget action movies, “Panama” shows a startling disregard for women. The sex and nudity is excessive, with Hauser's primary love interest existing mostly to writhe around naked atop him while he awkwardly lays there. The drug kingpin character is always surrounded by half-naked or fully naked concubines. At one point, he presents a woman's crotch to our hero and says it is the source of all power. If that wasn't glaringly sexist enough, every female character in the movie exists to either die and provide a tragic motivation for the hero, be sexualized, captured, nag at him, or all of the above. If the film didn't suck so bad, casual misogyny of this level would almost be kind of impressive. 

Somehow, reducing every woman in this story to bitches, whores, or corpses is not the most offensive thing about “Panama.” The movie invoking the U.S. imperialism in Central America of the late eighties almost could get a pass, as some sort of ironic statement about Uncle Sam's action during this time. Instead, the script seems quite sincere in treating the interloping CIA agents as the good guys. Far worse is how the film invokes the abuse and war crimes that occurred during Noriega's reign. Hauser wanders through a refugee camp filled with dismembered and crippled men, women, and children. At one point, hideous sexual violence committed by the soldiers is referenced. Why put these scenes in your disposable action movie? Was this an attempt to add some gravitas to the material? Or another one of the Neveldine/Taylor provocations? Either way, it surely sticks out, moving the film from merely tacky to utterly tasteless. 

More honestly, these gross elements feel like the result more of a clueless lack-of-effort than a genuine attempt to offend. When not being funny in its cheapness or questionable in its politics, “Panama” is mostly extremely boring. The film easily feels twice as long as its modest hour-and-a-half runtime, going on past several logical end points. It is very sad that a filmmaker who once could be counted on for hyperactive, outrageous subversions of standard action tropes would end up doing a movie so totally lacking in drive, originality, or a sense of purpose as this. “Panama” might not be the worst movie I've reviewed. It might be among the laziest though, an aggressively tedious and pointless experience whose appeals to puerile interest can't awaken the viewer from the stupor it puts them in. [Grade: F]

RECENT WATCHES: Kong: Return to the Jungle (2007)

That “Kong: The Animated Series,” a largely forgotten and deeply mediocre cartoon, got a sequel movie four years after it ended is surprising. That it received two seems irrational. Yet it is true. In fall of 2006, a special extended edition of Peter Jackson's “King Kong” was released on DVD. BKN International took the opportunity to ride those coattails one more time and see if they could squeeze a little more blood out of this particular stone. While “Kong: King of Atlantis” was practically indistinguishable from the TV show that spawned it, the second follow-up is notable for an all together different reason. “Kong: Return to the Jungle” would ditch the serviceable, if bland, traditional animation of the show for what the DVD cover refers to as “state-of-the-art CGI.” I don't think anyone will be surprised to learn that statement is misleading, to say the least.  

“Return to the Jungle” goes back to Kong Island and reintroduces us to “The Animated Series'” heroes: teenage adventurer Jason Jensen, his genius scientist grandmother, comic relief buddy Tann, island shaman girl Lua, and the giant gorilla Kong that connects all of them. Their peaceful existence is interrupted when arch-nemesis Ramon De La Porta returns. He leads a big-game hunter named Stag Hunter to the island. Hunter has built a high-tech zoo in Manhattan and intends to populate it with Kong, the dinosaurs, and other extinct megafauna that populate the island. It's all a scheme to unleash the animals on the city, so Stag can hunt them for sport and De La Porta can take the fall. Jason and his pals head to NYC to save their hairy friend from the unhinged hunter and a military eager to protect the city. 

By 2007, CGI was well established as the primary animation format for feature films. Maybe this is why the “Kong” producers decided to go this route. However, within minutes, it's clear that the budget was not available to realize this vision. At least one Letterboxd review compares the film's appearance to a PlayStation 2 game, which I think is really unfair to the PS2. “Return to the Jungle” is, simply, one of the ugliest movies I've ever seen. The models are shiny, their movements stiff and weightless. Characters seem to frequently float through the air. Any time someone interacts with another person or the environment, the two simply don't seem to occupy the same space. This results in action scenes where characters limply flop around against each other. The facial expressions are robotic and gap-mouthed. The colors are flat, the environments lacking details. At one point, the animators used pixelated photographs and literal GIFs in lieu of art design. On more than one occasion, backgrounds can clearly be seen glitching out. But that implies that the entire movie doesn't look like one long glitch...

Even if “Kong: Return to the Jungle” had fantastic writing, it would be impossible to overlook how hideous the animation is. Of course, the movie doesn't have a decent script. I can't believe I'm saying this but I don't think this cartoon respects the lore of “Kong: The Animated Series.” Despite ending the show in a vegetative state, Professor De La Porta returns without any explanation here. He showed nothing but contempt for Kong and the Jensens in the show but seems to have a begrudging respect for them now. Originally, Lua had an independent and often stubborn personality. Here, she's nothing but a fawning female lead, going along with everything the boys offer. Jason's grandmother becomes another totally subservient female figure, baking pies for the guys and dropping exposition. None of the show's other extensive mythology, like the Primal Stones or the island's history, are mentioned. I didn't think “Kong: The Animated Series” had an especially deep or well thought-out cast of characters or plotting. Somehow, “Return to the Jungle” dumbs down what was already a middling, shallow cartoon show.

Part of why “Kong: Return ot the Jungle” comes off as so didactic is because the dialogue is loaded down with exposition. In addition to simplifying already flat characters, “Return to the Jungle” goes out of its way to explain who everyone is and what their deal is. The first half-hour of this 78 minute movie is largely devoted to explaining Kong and Jason's background. That the giant gorilla is a clone of an original Kong, though seemingly not the original Kong from the 1933 movie. That Jason shares his DNA with him, that this allows the two to magically connect. The script is burdened with “As you know” dialogue, such as the repeated references to Lua being the island's shaman or Tann being the son of a billionaire. While “Kong: The Animated Series” occasionally featured an environmental message, “Return to the Jungle” really hammers home this moral about respecting wild life. Making the villain such a cartoonishly evil animal hater defangs a message that kids probably do need to hear. 

Making the previous “Kong: The Animated Series” movie a musical was incredibly distracting, not to mention embarrassing. “Return to the Jungle” kind of maintains this change, though it finds a compromise of sorts. There are three original songs in the movie but they simply play over action scenes. The heroes don't burst into song and dance, thankfully. The first song, which introduces Kong's status as king of the jungle, is even kind of catchy. The second number, played during a painfully animated flashback to Jason and the gorilla's childhood, isn't great but was tolerable. The third song, however, played when our heroes are running around New York City, made my teeth clench pretty hard. All things considered, I really don't understand the desire to make songs such a big part of an action movie about a giant gorilla. 

I'll give “Kong: Return to the Jungle” positive notices for one element: The movie returns to “King Kong” tradition by having the gorilla rampage through New York City and fight a T-Rex, something “The Animated Series” downplayed. In fact, the movie makes the Tyrannosaurus Rex Kong's biggest enemy. All things considered though, “Return to the Jungle” is extremely dire slop only suitable for the most undiscerning child audiences. In the department of computer generated hemorrhoids, it avoids being as eye-scorchingly hideous as “Rapsittie Street Kids” or those weird, low budget Christian cartoons... But just barely. It's hard to be too down on a movie clearly made with so little resources, by so few people. (IMDb only lists forty people in the entire credits.) I suspect the entire movie was rushed through production in a few months. Yet there's no way around how deeply uncomfortable it is to look at this thing. When paired with a totally half-assed script, it makes “Kong: Return to the Jungle” an intensely unpleasant viewing experience. [2/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Kong: King of Atlantis (2005)

King Kong might be one of the original giant monster movie stars. Yet, in the modern era, the enormous gorilla has too often been a second banana. The 1998 American remake of “Godzilla” was a disappointment, critically and financially. The blockbuster would, at least in the hearts of kaiju devotees, be outshined by a Saturday morning cartoon spin-off. “Godzilla: The Series” was popular enough that someone decided to cash-in. European animation company BKN International – perhaps better known as Bohbot Entertainment to old millennials like me – would create a competing cartoon based on King Kong. “Kong: The Animated Series'” original run last from 2000 to 2001, totaling forty episodes. The series would even, for a short while, air on the same network as “Godzilla: The Series.”

Much like the previous “King Kong” cartoon, “Kong: The Animated Series” took very little from the original films. The series followed a modern day clone of the original big gorilla, made by a scientist named Dr. Jenkins. The ape shares a bond, and some DNA, with her grandson, Jason. After a villain attempts to capture the gorilla, Dr. Jenkins moves him to the remote Kong Island. (I guess the name “Skull Island” was too gruesome for the kiddy crowd.) Now a teenager, Jason arrives on the island with his best friend, the meat-headed pilot Tann. There, Jason, Kong, Tann, and jungle girl Lua have a number of adventures. 

The show mostly turned King Kong into a standard action cartoon hero. Through a device called the Cyber-Link, Jason and Kong can combine into a shared consciousness. A villain named De La Porta seeks the power of the Primal Stones, thirteen magical MacGuffins linked to the history of Kong Island. He grabbed his own Cyber-Link, fusing with different animals, in other to give Kong an anthromorphized creature to grapple with in every episode. The show invented a convoluted backstory linking Kong to the lost continent of Atlantis and an evil god named Chiros, the ultimate antagonist of the entire series. A whole litany of mystical plot devices, shamanism, mythologies from all around the world, and even time travel get involved eventually. 

Despite all the ideas floating around inside it, “Kong: The Animated Series” was an extremely mediocre cartoon. The animation was bland, the character designs deeply uninspired. The ensemble never rose above being shallow cartoon archetypes. The voice cast – largely made up of familiar performers like Scott McNeil and David Kaye – did not contributed especially memorable work. Most episodes don't even take advantage of what we associated with “King Kong,” the giant ape rarely fighting dinosaurs or rampaging through cities. Instead, it had a standard structure of our heroes travelling around the world, usually foiling the same villain every week. Compared to the grotesque enemy monsters of “Godzilla: The Series,” the antagonistic beasties here are completely forgettable. I watched all forty episodes on Tubi and I've endured much shittier cartoon shows. However, “Kong: The Animated Series” has rightly been consigned to the dust bin of animation history. 

Why am I bringing this up? In 2005, King Kong would return to theater screens in the big budget and much anticipated remake from Peter Jackson. Hoping to cash-in on the hype, “Kong; The Animated Series” would find its way back onto TV around this time. Yet the coattail riding did not end there. BKN decided to resurrect the show for a short, hour long, direct-to-video movie. Two weeks before Jackson's “Kong” roared into multiplexes everywhere, “Kong: King of Atlantis” would shuffle onto video store shelves. Ignored by most, the cartoon's technical inclusion as part of the “Kong” legacy made me morbidly curious enough to give it a look.

“King of Atlantis” takes place after “The Animated Series,” though it doesn't reference any of the show's events. (In fact, I'm pretty sure it contradicts some of them.) A strange eclipse is beginning above Kong Island, worrying Lua and making Kong antsy. Jason and Tann notice strange things around the island, such as a tar pit seemingly springing to life. Soon, it becomes apparent that evil, reptilian Atlanteans emerge from an alternate timeline. They take Kong back to their world, where the evil Queen Reptilla intends on brainwashing the big ape. Jason, Tann, and Lua follow behind and team up with the local rebels, in order to save Kong and stop the evil queen.

Though it was made four years later, “King of Atlantis” basically feels like a double-length episode of “Kong: The Animated Series.” The movie does little to distinguish itself from the show that birthed it. The quality of the animation is slightly higher than the average episode. They throw in a cave bear sidekick to follow the heroes around that wasn't present in the show. This is totally standard stuff. The sci-fi setting is equal parts generic and slapped together, mixing together many different types of aliens with little coherence. The evil queen is a stock-parts villain and her sycophant henchman – literally named Scyophantis – is annoying. Jason and Lua's sexual tension carries over from the show to uninspired results. Tann becomes attached to the Amazonian leader of the rebels, in a totally last minute subplot. Kong fights some cyborg dinosaur critters after spending most of the movie moping and being bossed around by the bad guys. 

It's not much to write about. While “Kong: The Animated Series” at least didn't talk down to the viewers with obvious moral lessons, the movie does include one. Jason and Lua can't agree throughout most of the film and their bickering alienates Kong. It's only after everyone works together that everything turns out okay. How is this message communicated to the viewer? Through something that the series definitely didn't include: Musical numbers! Yes, “Kong: King of Atlantis” is somehow the second direct-to-video, animated “King Kong” musical. Let me tell you, the songs here make me pine for the lyricism of “The Mighty Kong.” The lyrics are deeply inane, the melodies annoying. Each time the characters burst into song, I felt a full body cringe come over me. Moreover, there's absolutely no reason for these songs to be included. The show never featured any singing. Why does the movie? 

In other words, “Kong: King of Atlantis” is only for the most obsessive of Kong Kompletest. With the exception of those shitty songs, it's really no worst than any two episodes of “Kong: The Animated Series.” It is also, I must point out, also no better than any episode of the series. Much like the show it's attached to, “King of Atlantis” is a project that little effort was expended on. The writing is kids show slop. The animation is unambitious. The characters and acting are lacking in any memorable personality. Unless you are really desperate to see a giant gorilla wrestle some monsters, and have exhausted all other options, there's zero reason to seek this out. I wish I could say something pithy like “But at least there's no singing and dancing” but, inexplicably, there is. You have my permission to keep doing what you were going to do with this movie anyway and ignore its existence. [4/10]

OSCARS 2023: Tell It Like A Woman (2022)

It's not uncommon for one of the Oscar nominees to stick out as especially arbitrary. In the history of random-ass movies to get nominated for an Oscar, is there any more random-ass a title than "Tell It Like a Woman?" When this year's slate was announced, there was a collective exclamation of confusion around it. It seemed like the film was barely released, leading some to joke that it wasn't real. But we all know why "Tell It Like A Woman," a film nobody knew existed, managed to score an Oscar nomination. The Academy has, for whatever reason, made a running gag of nominating Diane Warren in the Best Song category every year. Warren contributing a song to this obscure feature led the Academy to bless their favorite perpetual runner-up with her fourteenth nomination. This is presumably how this movie nobody has heard of somehow earned a minor place in Hollywood history. 

So what is "Tell Like a Woman?” It is an omnibus feature composed of women telling stories about women. Taraji P. Henson's “Percy & Kim” follows an inmate struggling with drug addiction, as she goes through therapy. Catherine Hardwicke's “Elbow Deep” concerns a worker for a homeless outreach program during the pandemic, as she cleans an especially troubled girl. Lucía Puenzo's “Lagonegro” has Ava returning to her childhood home of Corsica to bury her sister and take in a niece she doesn't know. Mipo Oh's “A Week in My Life” is about a beleaguered Japanese mom as she raises two kids and work a full-time job. Maria Tognazzi's “Unspoken” tracks a veterinarian as she helps a desperate patient. Leena Yadav's “Sharing a Ride” sees a Bombay plastic surgeon unexpectedly help a transwoman. Meanwhile, the animated “Aria” tells a symbolic story about people being set free from the paths set out for them.

“Percy & Kim” is, unfortunately, mawkish in the extreme. Jennifer Hudson gives an utterly grotesque performance as “Kim.” Kim's struggles are awkwardly presented by having multiple versions of Hudson arguing with each other or monologuing directly to the camera. Hudson is a talented performer but her performance here is grotesque. She effects overdone body languages and haircuts to show  the different aspects of Kim's personality. Unfortunately, this results mostly in Hudson screaming profanity and speaking in goofy voices. This approach borders offensive during a sequence where Kim recounts her childhood sexual abuse, while wearing pigtails and talking in a high-pitched little girl voice. Henson's visual approach is borderline amateurish. The editing, utilizing slow fades to black, is distractingly blunt. The camera work is annoyingly shaky and the soundtrack intrusive. When combine with the shallow screenplay, it all gives the impression of bad community theater.

The film's less-than-sensitive approach to mental health and questionable creative choices continues with “Elbows Deep.” Cara Delevingne's performance as “Validation,” the homeless schizophrenic, is frankly embarrassing. She quivers, snorts, squeaks, grimaces, and mutters. The character leans into every stereotype about the homeless and mentally ill, being abjectly filthy and inhumanly eccentric. The unfortunate visual approach seen in the first segment continues here, as Hardwicke often frames the shots in bizarrely off-center ways. The soundtrack is similarly deafening and obvious. The worst part is there's just not much to this segment narratively. It's mostly composed of a doctor and her assistant getting a woman out of her dirty clothes. You're kind of left wondering what the point of this was.

“Lagonegro,” at the very least, isn't as roughly directed as the first two segments. The cinematography here is clear and the editing doesn't immediately pull you out. The script remains drippy though. Characters more-or-less directly explain their feelings while every dramatic moment is emphasized with blaring music. Once the conflict of Ana having to choose between her career and taking care of her niece appears, it's obvious where this story is going. As the episode flatly moves towards its climax, any suspense or investment totally deflates. “Unspoken” is similarly let-down by an obvious script, moving towards an improperly clean-cut conclusion that is set-up in a blatant way and ends abruptly. This undermines an approach that was decently understated, even if it never connects with the themes of animals and parenthood. 

If most of “Tell It Like a Woman” is stylistically inert, “Sharing a Ride” and “Aria” are self-consciously showy. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Leena Yadav has directed music videos before this. That's what the segment feels like at times, such as during a lengthy montage devoted to the protagonist stepping into a photoshoot. And especially in its climax, which is built around showcasing Warren's song. The rest of the short is burdened by loud comic relief, a protagonist that is somehow both underwritten and overacted, and a script that follows the tired trope of a cisgendered person helping out a trans individual. “Aria,” meanwhile, employs obvious symbolism of observation, people forced to predestined paths, and breaking free to express themselves. When combined with its animated status – which is uninspired, with generic character designs – it makes for a baffling note to end the film on. 

“A Week in My Life” is one of the few times “Tell It Like a Woman” approaches subtly. The sequence does a good job of depicting how constantly exhausted and overwhelmed its protagonist is without going into histrionics. Smartly, Towa, the dinosaur-obsessed young son, is depicted as hyperactive but never obnoxious. He's just a normal kid, overflowing with energy. The mom clearly has her plate full, sometimes being pushed towards cracking, but remains dedicated to her children. The attention to the banalities of everyday responsibilities, all the tasks she has to do every day, are well-done. The climax of the story is actually cutely touching, showing that these kids do love their mom and appreciate all the sacrifices she makes for them. 

You can tell the producers of “Tell It Like a Woman” were determined to get the most of Diane Warren's theme song. “Applause” is heard in its entirety three times, with both the standard version and a dance remix playing back-to-back over the end credits. As far as Warren's overwritten ballads go, it's mildly catchy and singer Sofia Carson has a nice voice. But the melodies are overproduced and it features the lyrics “You're a supernova superstar.” I don't think Warren is going to win an Oscar for this one. Nor should the accompanying movie, a hodgepodge of stylistically incompatible segments that largely vary from sappy to insensitive.  Only Oh's installment rises above mediocre. “Tell It Like a Woman,” when it is remembered at all, will surely be recalled as one of the most inexplicable Oscar nominees. [5/10]