I’m mighty peeved. It seemed to me that SWORDFISH, which I’ve been eagerly anticipating, should have it all, in spades. Action. High-tech action. Thrills. Crime. Prime ass-kicking, a la Vinnie Jones. Travolta as the Moriarty of the hacker world. And with Jackman’s bad-boy magnetism and Cheadle’s ever-intelligent acting, Sex Appeal To Burn.
Instead, Skip Woods (I take especial note of this name; it will warn me away from his future projects.) presents some challenging ideas then tarts them up with tired, stupid trimmings.
Why do we accept that one set of people may decide on the life or death of one versus the good of several, but not accept these same decisions when made by another set of people? Interesting idea. But enough thinking. Let’s take a nifty sports car on a screaming chase down a city’s main streets while John Travolta shoots a big machine gun out the moonroof!
More mental whiplash:
The Napoleon of computer crime (Travolta) is so far under radar that the FBI has never seen him, yet he lives a lifestyle so flamboyant that dollar bills practically fall off him as he walks.
Once you hack through the incredible levels of encryption on government computer files, the cheery message on your monitor reads “Access Granted.”
High-ranking elected officials can be assassinated without causing so much as a ripple in the news.
Hugh Jackman’s charisma as Wolverine (X-MEN) was no fluke. It’s time for Travolta to put aside these over-the-top, hyper-stylish-bad-guy roles and be someone’s daddy in a family drama. Don Cheadle is so criminally underused in SWORDFISH that I wanted to run out and rent DEVIL IN A BLUE DRESS (where he pulled out all of his considerable inner crazy). I don’t have to tell you that Halle Berry has a fine behind and nice breasts, but in SWORDFISH she is literally tits and ass.
What. A. Crime.
—Roxanne Bogucka, an Action Grrl!
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