Slack, ambitionless Elmore Leonard-lite. Brett Ratner has matured into one of the dullest young filmmakers working today.
AFTER THE SUNSET
Directed by Brett Ratner
GRADE: C MINUS
Reviewed by Sean Burns
PHILADELPHIA WEEKLY 11/17/04
There's a recurring gag in Brett Ratner's AFTER THE SUNSET that involves Pierce Brosnan's suave jewel thief constantly trapping Woody Harrelson's bumbling FBI agent inside an SUV that the smooth criminal is able to operate via remote control. (He seems to be able to do this on his Palm Pilot. Ain't technology amazing?)
It's not particularly amusing, nor even plausible for that matter, but the big truck driving with nobody at the wheel does at least provide a nifty visual match for an entire movie that seems to be running on autopilot.
Though by no means a good film, it's hard to muster up much antipathy toward AFTER THE SUNSET. In fact, it's hard to muster up any feelings at all when a movie is so slack and unambitious.
This muted farce stars Brosnan and Salma Hayek as diamond thieves who have retired to the Bahamas. Harrelson is the fed who--after a career spent facing one humiliation after another at the hands of these two slicksters--follows them down to Nassau, convinced they're still plotting one big score.
Paul Zbyszewski and Craig Rosenberg's screenplay is strictly Elmore Leonard-lite, with predictable plot developments marked farther in advance than exit signs on a highway. Any fan of caper movies should be able to piece together everything that's going to happen in SUNSET within the first half-hour. (The boldest, most unforgivable hint comes when Harrelson and Brosnan are talking movies, and Harrelson quips: "I don't like those twist endings.")
Brosnan occasionally blurs the line between "relaxed" and "asleep," so Salma Hayek has taken it upon herself to do enough acting for the both of them, bouncing and jiggling her way through the movie like she's got ants in her pants.
Working once again with the great cinematographer Dante Spinotti, Ratner tilts the camera so it's peering down her shirt for most of the movie, and you'd be surprised how much this cuts down on her performance's annoyingness.
After a long self-imposed sabbatical, Harrelson offers the usual doofus charm and sly smiles, but fans of this unique screen presence will sorely miss that edge of danger he brings to his best roles.
It's a film with no surprises or speedbumps--a nifty match for the talents of director Ratner, who since hitting it big with the incompetent RUSH HOUR movies has matured into one of the dullest young filmmakers working today. If you must see AFTER THE SUNSET, best to sit back, turn off your brain and focus on the way Spinotti's gorgeous photography captures the lovely locations.
Directed by Brett Ratner
GRADE: C MINUS
Reviewed by Sean Burns
PHILADELPHIA WEEKLY 11/17/04
There's a recurring gag in Brett Ratner's AFTER THE SUNSET that involves Pierce Brosnan's suave jewel thief constantly trapping Woody Harrelson's bumbling FBI agent inside an SUV that the smooth criminal is able to operate via remote control. (He seems to be able to do this on his Palm Pilot. Ain't technology amazing?)
It's not particularly amusing, nor even plausible for that matter, but the big truck driving with nobody at the wheel does at least provide a nifty visual match for an entire movie that seems to be running on autopilot.
Though by no means a good film, it's hard to muster up much antipathy toward AFTER THE SUNSET. In fact, it's hard to muster up any feelings at all when a movie is so slack and unambitious.
This muted farce stars Brosnan and Salma Hayek as diamond thieves who have retired to the Bahamas. Harrelson is the fed who--after a career spent facing one humiliation after another at the hands of these two slicksters--follows them down to Nassau, convinced they're still plotting one big score.
Paul Zbyszewski and Craig Rosenberg's screenplay is strictly Elmore Leonard-lite, with predictable plot developments marked farther in advance than exit signs on a highway. Any fan of caper movies should be able to piece together everything that's going to happen in SUNSET within the first half-hour. (The boldest, most unforgivable hint comes when Harrelson and Brosnan are talking movies, and Harrelson quips: "I don't like those twist endings.")
Brosnan occasionally blurs the line between "relaxed" and "asleep," so Salma Hayek has taken it upon herself to do enough acting for the both of them, bouncing and jiggling her way through the movie like she's got ants in her pants.
Working once again with the great cinematographer Dante Spinotti, Ratner tilts the camera so it's peering down her shirt for most of the movie, and you'd be surprised how much this cuts down on her performance's annoyingness.
After a long self-imposed sabbatical, Harrelson offers the usual doofus charm and sly smiles, but fans of this unique screen presence will sorely miss that edge of danger he brings to his best roles.
It's a film with no surprises or speedbumps--a nifty match for the talents of director Ratner, who since hitting it big with the incompetent RUSH HOUR movies has matured into one of the dullest young filmmakers working today. If you must see AFTER THE SUNSET, best to sit back, turn off your brain and focus on the way Spinotti's gorgeous photography captures the lovely locations.
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