AKA Desert Heat.
Inferno is one of those odd little movies that somehow gets itself a decent cast, has some decent humour, and has the potential to be a hidden gem. The reason that it never realises that potential lies with director John G. Avildsen, as well as Jean-Claude Van Damme (still struggling to recapture that onscreen charisma that helped him become a star over a decade previously).
Van Damme plays Eddie Lomax, a man who starts the film drunk in the middle of a desert area. He's staggering around and talking to someone, a person who may just be a figment of his imagination, and about to kill himself. His drinking and gun-waving ends up interrupted by some locals who beat him and take a motorbike that we was intending to deliver to his friend (Danny Trejo). This leads to Eddie eventually reaching a nearby town and pitting two gangs against one another while he helps to cut down their numbers.
Another reworking of Yojimbo (which is namechecked at the end, for anyone who misses it while the plot unfolds), Inferno feels very much like it is unsure of where it wants to go. The violence doesn't have the impact that it should, the moments of humour feel out of place, and scenes that skirt close to being sweaty and sleazy are too short to help the overall feel of the film. Writer Tom O'Rourke has fun but I'm not sure that director John G. Avildsen is on the same wavelength, perhaps more worried about the visual style or delivering moments that action movie fans will expect.
Aside from our leading man, the supporting cast here is generally well selected. You get Trejo, of course. Gabrielle Fitzpatrick is the woman who may catch the eye of the lead, and she does okay, but you also get Silas Weir Mitchell, Pat Morita, Larry Drake, and Jaime Pressly, as well as a horribly inappropriate bit of casting in the shape of Vincent Schiavelli playing a Mr Singh.
This should have been more in line with Last Man Standing, but with fists and feet replacing the guns from that film. I think ramping up the impact of the violence and the exploits of the bad guys would have made things ultimately more enjoyable. But it didn't do that. So what we end up with is an action thriller that titillates occasionally with the content (a couple of moments of sudden violence, one main sex scene) but is really playing it safe, for the most part. Casual JCVD fans should find it enjoyable enough though.
4/10
You can pick up the disc here.
Americans can get it here.
Showing posts with label jaime pressly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jaime pressly. Show all posts
Wednesday, 20 June 2018
June-Claude Van Damme: Inferno (1999)
Labels:
action,
danny trejo,
desert heat,
gabrielle fitzpatrick,
inferno,
jaime pressly,
jean-claude van damme,
john g. avildsen,
larry drake,
pat morita,
silas weir mitchell,
tom o'rourke,
vincent schiavelli
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Ticker (2001)
A Steven Seagal movie that ranks at the very bottom of the
pile, if this isn’t his worst film then I despair at the depths he has reached.
Seagal plays a bomb disposal expert, Frank Glass, who teams
up with a detective (Tom Sizemore) to try and save the city from the schemes of
a mad bomber (Dennis Hopper). Jaime Pressly plays a young woman caught up in
the midst of things while Peter Greene is the antagonistic detective who only
serves to keep rubbing Sizemore up the wrong way.
Pretty appalling in almost every single way, Ticker is
almost worth watching for the laughs it can provide but all involved should be
embarrassed by the final product.
The script by Paul B. Margolis wouldn’t be out of place in
any “McBain” segment of The Simpsons while director Albert Pyun fills out the
movie with footage from other films, constantly makes careless mistakes and
puts himself forward as an untalented hack for hire. It seems that his career
best will remain the lesser Van Damme movie, Cyborg.
Seagal finally gets some action in the last 10 minutes or so
but, overall, this is an unsatisfying watch for fans of his fight moves.
Sizemore does okay but is hampered by ridiculously clichéd characterisation and
motivation (including an enduring memory of lost loved ones that shows them
turning and waving to him about half a dozen times, with love glistening in
their eyes and radiating from every pore, before getting killed). And I could
watch Jaime Pressly if she was showing me paint dry. Dennis Hopper, however,
goes completely over the top and drags things down further with an accent that
veers between American and Irish, depending on how he seems to feel at the
time. The fact that the soundtrack is often full of lilting, Celtic music in
the background whenever the bombers are onscreen is just another reason to
dislike the movie – if I were easily offended then this movie would have hit
the spot. Kevin Gage, Nas, Joe Spano, Romany Malco and many others step
onscreen to take part in this debacle. There’s even a fleeting, and completely
unnecessary, role for Ice-T.
2/10.
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Labels:
action,
dennis hopper,
jaime pressly,
joe spano,
kevin gage,
movie,
movie review,
nas,
peter greene,
romany malco,
steven seagal,
ticker,
tom sizemore
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