by Aaron Neathery
Daily Cougar StaffCity Hall is a semi-entertaining, though not entirely good, political thriller and a film that will pass from public memory in a very short time.
The story, like most things about City Hall, is adequate. A young deputy mayor (John Cusack) launches an investigation into a shootout between a highly respected detective and a mob-related drug dealer that leaves both men, plus a young boy, dead. If you're wondering how Al Pacino figures into all this, he really doesn't.
Al Pacino portrays powerful New York Mayor John Pappas, the deputy mayor's mentor. Pacino's role is completely peripheral to the plot, which doesn't necessarily mean that he has less screen time than Cusack. The script gives Pacino plenty of long speeches and good dialogue to help us forget that he really has nothing to do with the central story ... at least until the end.
This is just as well, considering that Cusack lacks the ability to carry this film. Cusack just can't muster up enthusiasm for anything in this picture, and his utterly deadpan expression certainly doesn't help. Again, his performance isn't good; it's adequate.
His cohort is Bridget Fonda, who is a Detectives Endowment Association attorney trying to clear the good name of her client's dead husband. Sadly, Fonda isn't even adequate; she's downright awful. Fonda apparently decided that the only way to express her character's "strong-willed" personality was to grimace and express annoyance at everybody and everything. When Cusack and Fonda finally team in their search for the truth, one gets the urge to take a pair of scissors, remove their scenes, and hope that the plot holes will take care of themselves.
Naturally, Pacino saves the film. For all of the script's, and his fellow actor's weaknesses, Pacino comes out on top for the sole reason that his scenes were tailor-made for him. The film suffers each moment he is not on screen.
Kudos to the writers and director Harold Becker for displaying unprecedented restraint in the making of City Hall. The film is endowed with an unusual presence of mind and never forgets that its entire purpose is to be a political thriller and nothing more. There's little language, even less graphic violence, and Cusack and Fonda don't even get into the sack. See it or don't. No one will care in a month.
by Joey Guerra
Daily Cougar StaffTo fully appreciate Mr. Wrong, the new romantic comedy starring Ellen DeGeneres, one has to understand the type of humor the director and screenwriter are going for: the demented, twisted kind.
Don't get me wrong -- Mr. Wrong certainly doesn't sparkle with intelligence, but it is awfully funny at times. Think Dumb and Dumber meets Sleepless in Seattle.
By casting DeGeneres as Martha Alston, a talent coordinator for a TV talk show, the team behind this nightmare have created an unusual situation. Martha is the only normal part of the movie, and her reactions to the insanity are often hilarious. DeGeneres' low-key comic timing works well within the wacky structure created by director Nick Castle.
Before pandemonium ensues, Martha is content as a single woman, much to the chagrin of her parents and co-worker, Walter (John Livingston). Martha feels added pressure with the wedding of her sister, sending her into a lonely hearts' despair on Valentine's Day.
Enter Whitman Crawford (Bill Pullman), resident dream guy. Handsome, wealthy and passionate, Whitman sweeps Martha off her feet from their first encounter at the jukebox. From there, he buys Martha gifts, takes her nice places and reads her poetry. (Who cares if it isn't exactly ... well ... poetic?)
Things take a turn after Martha takes Whitman to meet her parents. He confesses to not feeling like his true self, to which Martha replies, "Be yourself."
Whitman pulls a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, becoming an idiotic jerk who steals beer from convenience stores and throws the cans at old men on the street. He tries to involve Martha in his dastardly deeds, which almost gets her whacked with a baseball bat.
In these all-out hysteria scenes, the movie works best. At times, you may think to yourself, "Boy, this is really stupid," but that's the fun of it. The filmmakers have created a movie that cannot be taken seriously, which basically translates into crazytime.
Whitman refuses to take `no' for an answer, sending Martha giant teddy bears and getting her fired from her job. The movie's finale is a take-no-prisoners display of lunacy, featuring Martha in full bridal attire, armed with a pistol.
The real scene-stealer is Joan Cusack as Inga, Whitman's ex-girlfriend. Cusack is a scream as the knife-wielding wacko, threatening Martha with bubble gum in her hair if she doesn't stop seeing Whitman. Cusack's scenes are greatly intensified by her performance. Pullman makes the transition from suave to sicko effortlessly, all the while giving hints of his idiocy.
Mr. Wrong certainly won't make you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but it will caution any woman about meeting Mr. Right at a local jukebox.