11 June 1998 Edition
Cinema
Red Corner
The Apostle
Richard Gere, already Hollywood's self-proclaimed champion of the oppressed Tibetan people, goes one step further in exposing Red China's democratic failings in his latest role.
The full extent of Gere's acting gravitas is brought to bear on the communist regime's outdated legal system in Red Corner, a laughably atrocious movie that plays like Midnight Express meets Petrocelli.
Gere is Jack Moore, an innocent American capitalist abroad trying to sell Babewatch-style American television culture via satellite to the repressed communist cadres. Unfortunately, Gere, being Gere, gets sidetracked by a cute model, but the morning after he finds himself with more than a hangover and a pang of guilt. Instead, he is arrested and charged with the model's rape and murder.
This movie would have been better, albeit a tad brief, if Big Brother had done his job properly, summarily convicted Gere and shot him in the head. Alas for us viewers, though, Gere gets to be a gallant miscarriage-of-justice victim for the best part of two hours, challenging the system with unrelenting improbability by speed-reading the Chinese legal code, evading assassination attempts, and even winning over his state defence lawyer in the process. Yes, she is very pretty. Good guess. Even staunch Gere fans will find this one hard to take, and if Jiang Zemin's leadership of the new China bears any resemblance to that portrayed by California's scriptwriters, the Tibetans should have no trouble turning the tables and colonising the entire place.
The Apostle, veteran actor Robert Duvall's personal opus, features him as writer, director, executive producer and star of an overlong and overbearing morality tale set in the American South.
Duvall plays Euliss ``Sonny'' Dewey, a Pentecostal preacher from Texas who loses everything when, in a jealous drunken rage, he lashes out and fatally injures his wife's new lover. On the run, he sheds his old identity, renames himself the Apostle, and ends up finding a new vocation in Louisiana, where he sets up the One Way Road to Heaven Church before the movie grinds to its predictable outcome.
The film opens with an ambulance-chasing Duvall attempting to ``save'' a severely injured road crash victim, a disquieting insight into a fervent and narrow religious mentality that pervades the entire work. On a dramatic level, not enough happens to retain audience interest, and it is difficult to empathise with Duvall's character, as he mumbles scripture to himself or shouts it at others for over two hours. Maybe I'm just an irredeemable atheistic cynic, but the only real blessing I encountered was the credits.
BY MARTIN SPAIN
The Apostle
Richard Gere, already Hollywood's self-proclaimed champion of the oppressed Tibetan people, goes one step further in exposing Red China's democratic failings in his latest role.
The full extent of Gere's acting gravitas is brought to bear on the communist regime's outdated legal system in Red Corner, a laughably atrocious movie that plays like Midnight Express meets Petrocelli.
Gere is Jack Moore, an innocent American capitalist abroad trying to sell Babewatch-style American television culture via satellite to the repressed communist cadres. Unfortunately, Gere, being Gere, gets sidetracked by a cute model, but the morning after he finds himself with more than a hangover and a pang of guilt. Instead, he is arrested and charged with the model's rape and murder.
This movie would have been better, albeit a tad brief, if Big Brother had done his job properly, summarily convicted Gere and shot him in the head. Alas for us viewers, though, Gere gets to be a gallant miscarriage-of-justice victim for the best part of two hours, challenging the system with unrelenting improbability by speed-reading the Chinese legal code, evading assassination attempts, and even winning over his state defence lawyer in the process. Yes, she is very pretty. Good guess. Even staunch Gere fans will find this one hard to take, and if Jiang Zemin's leadership of the new China bears any resemblance to that portrayed by California's scriptwriters, the Tibetans should have no trouble turning the tables and colonising the entire place.
The Apostle, veteran actor Robert Duvall's personal opus, features him as writer, director, executive producer and star of an overlong and overbearing morality tale set in the American South.
Duvall plays Euliss ``Sonny'' Dewey, a Pentecostal preacher from Texas who loses everything when, in a jealous drunken rage, he lashes out and fatally injures his wife's new lover. On the run, he sheds his old identity, renames himself the Apostle, and ends up finding a new vocation in Louisiana, where he sets up the One Way Road to Heaven Church before the movie grinds to its predictable outcome.
The film opens with an ambulance-chasing Duvall attempting to ``save'' a severely injured road crash victim, a disquieting insight into a fervent and narrow religious mentality that pervades the entire work. On a dramatic level, not enough happens to retain audience interest, and it is difficult to empathise with Duvall's character, as he mumbles scripture to himself or shouts it at others for over two hours. Maybe I'm just an irredeemable atheistic cynic, but the only real blessing I encountered was the credits.
BY MARTIN SPAIN