 |
|
Run, caveman, run: 10,000 BC. |
Stupid
Cavemen
By
Ann Morrow
10,000
BC
Directed
by Roland Emmerich
A mish-mash of hunter-gatherer-era clichés, 10,000 BC
has about five minutes of footage that isn’t sheer dumbed-down
boredom, and that’s the belated appearance of a herd of wooly
mammoths. The CGI creatures almost achieve a Jurassic Park-style
moment of wonderment, but the film’s lame choreography ruins
it by sending a tribe of hunters running willy-nilly amid
the beasts’ feet to no discernable purpose.
But we know they’re supposed to have a purpose, because of
the film’s ponderously vapid narration (by Omar Sharif), which
intones pseudo-spirit-world pronouncements such as declaring
the mammoths “the mighty beasts that rule this land.”
What land that might be is incomprehensible: 10,000 BC
seems to exist in a parallel universe that owes more to ripping
off other movies (most noticeably Apocalypto) than
anything factual about the Mesolithic era. Sloppily directed
by the usually efficient box-office hack Roland Emmerich (The
Day After Tomorrow), 10,000 BC was co-written by
composer Harald Kloser—go figure—whose script is even worse
than his bombastic, symphonic score. The story has something
to do with a young hunter named D’leh (Steven Strait) who
is in love with Evolet (Camilla Bell) and must prove his manhood
to claim her. Evolet is a foundling who was taken in by the
isolated, mountaintop tribe because her blue eyes were considered
a blessing. If either Strait or Bell is capable of acting,
they don’t show it, but then, they don’t have much of a chance.
Before they can gaze wistfully into the future a la Quest
for Fire, Evolet is abducted during a raid by the “four-legged
demons”—Turkish-looking slave traders on horseback. The marauding
slavers ride modern horses, making the perils of the film’s
gigan- tic predators—man-eating emus and cartoon-eyed saber-tooth
tigers—even more ridiculous.
D’leh’s rescue mission takes him from craggy Eurasian peaks
to what appears to be the African continent—in about a day
or two. Along the way other disgruntled tribes join his cause
of attacking the demon men, a mission that takes them to the
film’s version of a Mayan Mordor, complete with effete priests,
albino houseboys, extras from Skull Island, and a towering,
veiled ruler deferred to as the “Almighty.” Evolet is so relieved
by D’leh’s daring that she cries until her mascara runs, at
which point a cameo by the Geico cavemen to deliver a punch
line would be infinitely preferable to yet another proof of
manhood.
Actually,
She Doesn’t
Miss
Pettigrew Lives for a Day
Directed
by Bharat Nalluri
Like last year’s Mrs. Henderson presents, Miss Pettigrew
Lives for a Day is an inconsequential piece of fluff that
trades in a love of retro glamour and a sense of nostalgia
for a time and place long gone—1939 England—as if either existed
as presented here. The title character (Frances McDormand),
a “rogue governess” whom we first meet being unceremoniously
dismissed from an employment agency, wanders the fringes of
pre-blitz London, experiencing one disastrous mishap after
another, until she lucks into a chance to work for American
singer Delysia Lafosse (Amy Adams). The hapless Yank, caught
between the amorous affections of not one but three guys,
latches onto Miss Pettigrew, elevating her to social secretary
and giving her a total makeover.
From the very moment that Adams bounds onto the screen, the
audience expectantly awaits the fun to begin. After all, this
is the same actress who turned Enchanted into something
a little more than, well, a piece of fluff, and the idea of
her parlaying her considerable talents within a frothy screwball
comedy is delightful. But while Adams is able to reveal Delysia
(nee Sara Grubb)’s inner lack of confidence and humanity,
she is not the miracle worker who can make Simon Beaufoy’s
and David Magee’s pedestrian script come to life. Delysia’s
would-be husbands are decidedly unappealing, although pianist
Michael (Lee Pace) is closest to a suitable love interest,
because we know he’s got her best interests at heart. Well,
that and the fact that he’s the only one of the three who
appears to have an appropriate blend of testosterone and maturity.
McDormand fares well in that we actually root for her character,
a bit of a misfit Mary Poppins with an innate common sense
and sweet dignity. When the catty boutique owner Edythe (Shirley
Henderson) attempts to bribe her, we almost expect Miss Pettigrew
to cower in terror, but instead we see strong character and
conviction—precisely why she was fired from so many previous
places of employment. There is also a glimmer of possibility
in her interactions with the lingerie designer, and Edythe’s
cuckolded fi ancé, Joe (Ciarán Hinds)—but only a glimmer.
Director Bharat Nalluri focuses too much attention on shiny
set pieces, notably the club in which Michael and Delysia
perform, and the runway that Edythe uses as an extension of
her passive-aggressive feelings for Joe. The underlying poignancy
of unsettled times and lonely people that should be there,
and occasionally rears a humble head, is beaten down like
a stovetop fire, leaving absolutely nothing resembling energy
and life—no matter what the title implies.
—Laura
Leon
|
Site
Search 
