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kealyd
Reviews
The Good Old Boys (1995)
Good for what it is
I was already predisposed to like this - big fan of Tommy Lee Jones, and I do enjoy my modern westerns. However, I find that the quality on VHS is quite a big obstacle to my enjoyment these days, and makes the film seem a lot cheaper than it actually is. Plus, the sound was terrible, which made it even more difficult for me to decipher Jones' nasal drawl (a number of times I actually had to rewind and listen closely again to even get the gist), and which he seemed to be laying on pretty darn thick, to boot.
Won't beat around the bush with a synopsis: lovable, nomadic rogue returns to the old homestead after years away, finds things have changed, has problems integrating and eventually learns to come to terms with it all. You know the drill. Jones himself is very endearing - not a man generally known for exuding warmth and upbeat optimism, but he convinces, as usual. Not the first time he's donned a stetson, he looks born to the saddle, roping steers, breaking in unruly horses and other suitably manly activities. There's a love interest in the shape of Sissy Spacek - could take her or leave her, really, but that's a personal feeling. Frances McDormand in particular was very good as the no-nonsense matriarch, and a young Matt Damon does a very serviceable turn as her son.
Lots of hackneyed 'comedy' moments: dog relieves itself on someone's leg; fat man falls over; outhouse gets knocked over with someone in it; man sits on cactus and has to have the spikes extracted from his backside - hilarious stuff. All pretty weak, but comes with the territory I suppose. Quite a few bits seemed contrived just to bring Jones and Spacek together (I'm looking at you, changing room scene) and they do invite some eye-rolling. A little surprised at the bittersweet ending, but it fits and the closing image is appropriately meaningful, if predictable, with Jones riding off into the sunset alone.
The kind of film you find channel-hopping on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You know what's going to happen, but it's well cast, inoffensive, and mildly enjoyable in itself.
The Man in the Iron Mask (1998)
Typical Hollywood fare
Variously uninspired, overblown and mawkish, and thoroughly predictable. Each actor seems to be in a different film--be it romantic epic, slapstick comedy or overblown family drama. As expected, Leonardo DiCaprio as Louis XIV/Philippe is entirely inappropriate for the part, intended to drag in hordes of young girls to see a film they otherwise wouldn't look twice at, given the general calibre (and age) of the rest of the cast. Only Jeremy Irons as the pious Aramis and Gabriel Byrne (who cannot quite suppress his surly Gaelic growl for love nor money, it seems) as the fiercely loyal D'Artagnan manage to conjure any measure of gravitas. I am as willing to suspend my disbelief as the next person, given a decent yarn and spirited performances, yet the colourful menagerie of modern accents, especially American (DiCaprio and Malkovich in particular), abounding in the 17th century Parisian court never failed to jar me out of what turned out to be rather a waste of two hours.
It's already been mentioned by several other reviewers, but the final preposterous scene where the Musketeers valiantly (and suicidally) charge face-first into a battery of musket-fire and emerge none the worse for it just nails the lid on the proverbial coffin--especially when one of the leads, figuratively tossing Dumas' novel out of the window, stamping on it and setting fire to it, promptly expires from what is apparently a flesh wound to the shoulder seconds later. There are a handful of equally ridiculous little incidents scattered throughout the film that are far more likely to elicit a derisive scoff than an awed gasp. When D'Artagnan, lingering beneath the Queen Mother's window, contemplatively fingers a red rose before riding off to probable death, I half expected him to fling it with unerring accuracy and have it land neatly in her hair, or something similarly ludicrous. Another scene is an instructive lesson in crowd control: simply wow the rioting mob with a bit of implausible swordplay and they'll all turn around and meekly shuffle back home.
Typical Hollywood schlock: a waste of time, money and reputable actors. Take it as a sign that I've already run out of synonyms for 'ridiculous' in two short paragraphs. Watch if you absolutely must, but turn the sound off all the same.