GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS (2000)
Grade: D-
Director: Dominic Sena
Screenplay: Scott Rosenberg
Starring: Nicholas Cage, Giovanni Ribisi, Angelina Jolie, Robert Duvall, Chi McBride, Scott Caan, T.J Cross, James Duvall, William Lee Scott, Christopher Eccleston, Will Patton, Delroy Lindo, Timothy Olyphant, Vinnie Jones, Master P
Often Pettigrew would see Bruckheimer standing on the boardwalk, looking at the teenage boys and girls sprawled sun bathing on the sand. On one of those occasions he said to Bruckheimer, "I see. What you're doing is trying to get into inside the heads of these teenyboppers and figure out what they want to see". Bruckheimer seemed honestly surprised. "Oh no," he replied. "You've got it backwards. Don [referring there to his partner in crime, the now deceased Don Simpson] and I dictate what they want to see". ---High Concept: Don Simpson and the Hollywood Culture of Excess by Charles Fleming
Whether that particular anecdote is true or not is anyone's guess, though it certainly seems true. The films that producer Jerry Bruckheimer (THE ROCK, CON AIR, ARMAGEDDON, GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS) overseas are like narcotic rushes of celluloid boiling over with commercialized visuals that resemble an advertisement not quite sure what it's supposed to be selling. An advertisement that comes packaged with many one liners delivered through inelegant smirks and that peculiar golden glow that seems to emanate from everywhere in any given Bruckheimer production. (It's as if these films are lit by the contents of PULP FICTION's mysterious briefcase). His movies are often brainless (the sole exception being CRIMSON TIDE, saved by an adequate script and more than adequate performances), pandering at the lowest level (see ARMAGEDDON's AT & T visuals of sad families looking skyward), but full of the ingredients that tend to draw audiences (especially teens) in droves; a hit song in the making (FLASHDANCE had two noxious chart toppers) which guarantees copious air play thus enabling free additional advertisements for the film, a cast that hits every demo (In GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS Robert Duvall and Delroy Lindo appear for the oldsters, Nicholas Cage and Will Patton for the boomers, Angelina Jolie and Giovanni Ribisi for Generation Y…or whatever the hell the media is calling them these days), and enough money to cure cancer spent on an astronomical ad budget. Bruckheimer films are generally publicized about a year prior to their release dates thereby serving as a constant reminder to "go see this movie". People must do so or they risk ostracization from water cooler chitchats.
The trailer for GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS was especially nauseating for me. It included a snippet wherein the Duvall character exclaims to the Lindo character (referring to a car part), "You break it you buy it my friend" while cracking up as if this is the funniest thing in the world. Then, to italicize the moment, we get a shot of Lindo practically doubling over in laughter. From what? Did something really funny happen? No, but the trailer sure does its best to convince you of just that. This bit says to the audience; come people, see our movie, look at how great a time everyone's having on screen, don't you want to have that good a time. Don't You?!
Yet all Bruckheimer's ploys seemed to work on the dopey hillbillies who filled out the crowd I happened to find myself amongst. They laughed in all the right places and even cheered at moments that seemed clearly insulting. Meanwhile I sat like a lox trying my damndest to be swept up with everyone, to chill out and have fun, but some things are just too stupid. Take, for example, all the one liners in this flick. Usually in a Bruckheimer production we get a couple good ones (how can we not considering that Bruckheimer movies are customarily re-written by over a dozen well known scribes…this is presumably to make certain that each film has a wildly incoherent tone) here, not a one. Still, people laugh on cue as if they've been trained by these idiotic summer blockbusters to do their bidding. Audiences are so accustomed to settling for these films that they no longer seem to expect or want anything more. If all the ingredients are present (no matter how they may be mixed together) well than, gosh gee it must be good. Yes, it's a damn lonely life being a movie critic. Cue sad, woebegone tunes as any Bruckheimer production surely would.
The "plot": Cage and his crew of ruffians (most not even given the advantage of a single defining trait) must steal 50 cars in 76 hours or a hapless Scottish gangster (the "jackal tearing at the soft belly of our fair city", Duvall actually says at one point with the dead seriousness of Jesse Ventura declaring that he "reads a lot") will kill his greasy brother (played by Giovanni Ribisi in a grating performance that's like Peter Lorre on sedatives). Not too good, but not too bad either. The film had he opportunity to be a cool outlaw\anti\hero flick but it's far to dumb to be anything more than a high tech DUKES OF HAZARD retread.
GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS announces its stupidity within its opening minutes; Ribisi and two of his buddies stop by a car shop admiring the polished vehicles. Ribisi impulsively chooses to break in and steal a Porsche seeing as how the group made a deal with the aforementioned "jackal" to deliver him large amounts of stolen vehicles (or something). How will they get to it? We're expecting some kind of thrilling break in but all we get is a Ribisi strutting toward the shop, brick in hand, then casually tossing it through the window. Meanwhile his accompanying buddy frets about mouthing many lame one liners while the camera fidgets as if it was afflicted with a terrible case of Tourette's Syndrome. (A syndrome that many cameras these days seem to be afflicted with). They break into the car with ease and quickness, then drive through another window.
The idiocy is relentless; during a high speed car chase (once again filmed by the shaky, Tourette camera) a wrecking ball, that might have well of come from the film playing in the adjacent theatre (actually it comes from a construction site that seems more hazardous than anything in the movie considering the number of casualties that occur within the two minutes we spend in that particular locale), smashes into a cop car at precisely the right moment. This wouldn't be completely unbelievable in a Bruckheimer film (remember CON AIR included a scene in which palm trees literally explode), only prior to that, in the same chase, the construction crew loses control of an gas pipe which goes sailing around causing additional obstacles that, of course, our hero easily maneuvers. Two casualties that have no relation with the ensuing car chase yet nonetheless end up taking control of it is a bit much, no?
GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS is like a Worst Of compilation of every annoying, idiotic summer movie irritant in one glowing package that looks as pristine as a Toyota commercial but is even more creatively bankrupt. Here we have not one but two annoying comic relief black guys. We've got yet another British villain (Christopher Eccleston, who could have easily switched places with Dougray Scott in MI2 without a single soul [excepting close relatives] realizing), who isn't only evil, he's full of all kinds of quirks like a strange love for wood and an uncanny wealth of morbid information ("It takes 80 thousand tons of metal to crush a car") that he seems to share at the oddest times. We have not only one hero, but about ten, all of which swore they were done with "the life" until they must be called into action. There's more but I'm tired.
On to the wasted talent: Nicholas Cage (8 MM) continues his career downward spiral, looking again as if he's performing on tranquilizers, only here he's made to look even more clownish with a head of bleached blonde hair. The poor guy looks as if he lost a vicious battle with a bottle of peroxide. Bruckheimer regular Will Patton shows up for a couple scenes looking like Billy Bob Thornton from back in the ONE FALSE MOVE days. Which brings me to Angelina Jolie, essentially in a cameo as a hyper sexual chick who can steal cars with the best of em' and squirm like an exotic dancer. Jolie is what used to be the rarest of actresses; a sexpot with immense acting talents. Nowadays there are several of these stunning starlets with truly exceptional acting skills like Charleze Theron (who turned a window dressing part in DEVIL'S ADVOCATE into something quite substantial) and Ashley Judd (who, like a female James Woods, radiates a fierce intelligence no matter how dumb her role). Jolie has an intense, unbounded charisma that is all her own and she (not the cars) jump start the film whenever Sena is wise enough to put her on screen which isn't nearly as frequently as it ought to be.
And the rest: Greg Araki regular James Duvall shows up and no, he hasn't yet dropped the Keanu impersonation. Scott Caan is upstaged by his massive biceps, Master P is upstaged by his mouthful of gold teeth (he has such trouble enunciating with all those caps that I half expected him to suddenly mutter "sthuffering sthucatash"), and Delroy Lindo's incredible talents are un-able to negotiate lines like "Brothers love is…. a brothers love". Oh the insight! Lindo refers there to the film's emotional hook; you see each Bruickheimer flick has at least one of these to trick the audience into thinking it's seeing something more than the product it is.
The final swipe: To paraphrase Robert Duvall's character; "GONE IN SIXTY SECONDS is a jackal tearing at the soft belly of good film". Somewhere Bruckheimer is cackling all the way to the bank.