Action drama. Starring Laurence Fishburne, Derek Luke and Kid Rock. Directed
and co-written by Reggie Rock Bythewood. Co-written by Craig Fernandez. (Rated
PG-13. 111 minutes. At AMC Kabuki, AMC Van Ness, Metreon, Century 20 Daly City
and Century Plaza 10.)
It takes some work to make 100-mph motorcycle races boring, but they’ve
managed to pull it off here. Honest, one more race — good guy pulls ahead,
bad guy pulls ahead, a shot of their eyes inside the helmet, good guy wins by
inches — and everyone in the theater would have dozed off.
The obvious idea is to stage a motorcycle version of “The Fast and the
Furious.” Instead we get the flat and the tedious.
It would help if any of us cared about the basic premise. The idea is that
Smoke (Laurence Fishburne) is an aging street racer who owns the mythical
title of King of Cali (as in California). There’s no trophy with the crown, no
money, not even an appearance on “Jimmy Kimmel Live.” He’s just King of Cali.
Other bikers, we are supposed to believe, are obsessed with taking Smoke’s
crown. It all leads up to — surprise — a big race with a cocky, young up-and-
comer (Derek Luke from “Antwone Fisher”), who has issues with Smoke.
There’s nothing wrong with a little mindless motorcycle fun, but this
pileup hits all the wrong notes. Smoke’s motorcycle gang, the Black Knights,
is supposed to be savage and ferocious. But when the bikers pull up at the big
race, they stop in a neat single file, hop off their bikes and snap down their
kickstands in unison. You’ve seen scarier marching bands — especially
Stanford’s.
Smoke has the most powerful bike in Cali, and from the look of Fishburne,
who has added more than a few pounds, he needs it. For some reason the King of
Cali’s ride is done up in pink curlicues, and Smoke looks as if he is riding
the world’s fastest couch.
Fishburne is stuck with lines like, “Black Knights, let’s roll.” C’mon,
Larry. You’ve been nominated for an Academy Award (”What’s Love Got to Do With
It”). You’ve done Shakespeare (”Othello”). You’ve won a Tony award. What are
you doing riding this turkey?
Kid Rock is given nothing to do and handles it perfectly. Luke has a
definite presence, but years from now when we are talking about his career,
this movie will not come up. He’s a kid — named Kid — who dreams of being
King of Cali so he can make his girlfriend, Tina (Meagan Good), a tattoo
artist, proud of him. Or something.
Kid has Tina tattoo “Burn rubber, not your soul” on his chest. That phrase
comes up more than once in the movie, spoken in hushed tones, as if it
explains everything.
What is really needed is some slam-bang biker action, but it is just the
same whining engines, over and over. The races are just one long side-by-side
straightaway, so once we’ve seen the bikes, checked the speedometer and looked
at the driver’s eyes, there’s nothing to do but go through the check list
again.
- This film contains graphic violence, foul language, drug use.
– C.W. Nevius
‘LOVE LIZA’
Drama. Starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Kathy Bates. Directed by Todd
Louiso. Written by Gordy Hoffman. (Rated R. 90 minutes. At the Lumiere,
Aquarius in Palo Alto, Marin in Sausalito and Camera in San Jose. )
.
Devastated by his wife’s suicide, Web designer Wilson Joel returns from her
funeral to find a suicide letter. He carries it in his pocket and takes it
along on an extended car trip, but instead of opening it and examining what
went wrong, he keeps it intact as he slides into a vast depression.
So begins “Love Liza,” a downbeat but oddly affectionate tale that marks
the directing debut of actor Todd Louiso (”High Fidelity”) and offers another
great performance from Philip Seymour Hoffman, the ace character actor of
“Happiness,” “Magnolia” and “Boogie Nights.” His brother, Gordy Hoffman, wrote
the script, which won a screenwriting award at last year’s Sundance Film
Festival.
The acting Hoffman brother is expert at playing desperate men, at finding
their raw emotional root and making them sympathetic despite their pathology.
He gives them a humanity that doesn’t highlight their affliction so much as
place it in a context that allows us to see the whole person — to imagine who
they were before things went wrong.
Such is the case with Wilson Joel, a grieving man who, unable to cope with
his tragedy, starts sniffing gasoline and flying remote-control planes to
escape. Friends try to help, his supervisor (Sarah Koskoff) confuses him by
taking him to the zoo and making a pass, and his mother-in-law (Kathy Bates)
badgers him into opening the suicide letter.
Louiso’s direction is quiet, respectful, focusing completely on the
performances and allowing the actors a wide berth of expression and behavior.
Oddly, the film isn’t nearly as downbeat as it sounds, but strikes a tone
that’s alternately melancholic, hopeful and strangely funny. That’s a thin
line to ride, but Hoffman, a master of his craft, manages it beautifully.
- This film contains raw language and drug use.
– Edward Guthmann
‘LOST IN LA MANCHA’
Documentary. Directed by Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe. (Rated R. 89 minutes. At
the Bridge, Shattuck in Berkeley, Rafael Film Center in San Rafael and Towne
in San Jose.)
.
Brilliant, brave and foolhardy, Terry Gilliam is the perfect filmmaker to
tackle “Don Quixote,” the classic Miguel Cervantes novel of an enchanted
madman charging against windmills. Dubbed Captain Chaos by one of his
colleagues, Gilliam thrives on panic and adversity.
“If it’s easy, I don’t do it,” he admits. “If it’s impossible, I’ll have a
go at it.”
“Lost in La Mancha,” a fascinating documentary by Keith Fulton and Louis
Pepe, captures one of the wildest, most heartbreaking episodes in Gilliam’s
career. In September 2000, he went to Spain to shoot “The Man Who Killed Don
Quixote,” a comic fantasy about a cynical ad man (Johnny Depp) who time-
travels to the 17th century, there to meet the insane Don Quixote (French
actor Jean Rochefort).
Gilliam, whose resume includes “Brazil,” “Time Bandits” and “The Fisher
King,” had been developing “Quixote” for nearly a decade. As soon as
production began, everything went awry: floods, thunder, noise from a nearby
NATO bombing range, absentee actors and a herniated disk and prostate problems
for the 70-year-old Rochefort. As a result, the movie never got made.
Grinning through his despair, Gilliam rallies, manufactures new levels of
pluck and courage — and essentially becomes the valiant dreamer he’s trying
to portray. Fulton and Pepe capture the mounting calamities — Gilliam
apparently gave them unlimited access — and illustrate the saga with animated
vignettes that portray Gilliam as a gonzo lunatic, all teeth and bulging eyes,
driving madly through the desert.
One’s sympathy falls easily to Gilliam, who, despite a penchant for
punishment, comes off as cheerful, committed and good-hearted. “Quixote struck
me more powerfully as I reached middle age,” Gilliam says. “He had one last
chance to make the world as interesting as he dreams it to be.”
- This film contains raw language.
– Edward Guthmann
‘SHANGHAI GHETTO’
Documentary. Directed by Dana Janklowicz-Mann and Amir Mann. (Not rated. 85
minutes. At the Opera Plaza, Shattuck in Berkeley and Rafael Film Center).
.
European Jews seeking to escape from the Nazis in the late 1930s found most
Western countries — including the United States — closed to them. About 20,
000 of them took refuge in an unlikely place: a section of Shanghai that,
because of an immigration loophole related to the Japanese occupation, didn’t
require visas.
“Shanghai Ghetto,” directed by Dana Janklowicz-Mann and Amir Mann, sheds
light on this fascinating piece of World War II history. Consisting mostly of
talking-head interviews, the film isn’t especially dynamic, but it brims with
insightful, poignant memories from survivors.
In place of the persecution they’d escaped, refugees found generosity and
graciousness in China. An existing group of British Jews, wealthy from
Shanghai’s trading boom, built soup kitchens for the newcomers. Their Chinese
neighbors also accepted the refugees, which was remarkable given that the
influx of Jews had displaced thousands of native Shanghai residents, who were
even poorer than the refugees.
Cooperation was crucial, however, because the Chinese and Europeans had to
coexist in a space of about one square mile. Conditions were brutal, with
rampant disease and raw sewage in the streets. “It smelled not like Chanel No.
5,” recalls a refugee.
Anecdotes from survivors and historians give a sense of suddenly changed
fortunes. In those days, passage to Shanghai was available only via luxury
liner; once aboard, mothers advised kids to stuff themselves on gourmet fare,
knowing that they might go hungry once in China.
Survivor Harold Janklowicz, father of director Janklowicz-Mann, brings
great intimacy to his appearances, maybe because he’s being filmed by his
daughter. He seems always on the verge of tears, especially when recalling a
kind British teacher who brought pupils to her home on weekends, offering a
respite from their sorry living conditions. “She was a beautiful woman,”
Janklowicz says, choking up.
Once Japan aligned with Germany, the refugees’ British benefactors were
interned and food became scarcer. The Shanghai Jews later endured a deadly
Allied bombing aimed at a Japanese radio station. But after the war, when they
learned what happened to relatives in Europe, the refugees saw Shanghai in a
new light: as a relative paradise.
– Carla Meyer
