Issue #26/51, November 5 - 18, 1998  

Whaddaya say we begin this Kino Korner with a little quiz-show contest action? The prize will be my pirate copy of U2's Pop, which (as every eXhole who ever tries to sell anything says) is "like new." This CD really is like new, however; I listened to it exactly once. The contest will consist of a single question... and here it is. Which of the following two remakes of family films of yesteryear featuring a washed-up and/or overrated comic actor now playing in town is a more direct sign of the further development of Biblical plague-type activity: Eddie Murphy in Dr. Doolittle, or Robin Williams in Disney's Flubber? Respond to exile.op_ed@matrix.ru in any form you see fit. Obviously, you need not watch the "films" in order to be eligible. In fact, let's go ahead and say that anyone who sees either of the two is automatically disqualified. And don't think I'm kidding-I really want this CD out of my apartment.

The oddest "new release" we have is something called Snake Eyes, directed by Brian De Palma and starring Nicolas Cage. Normally, that would be quasi-favorable news, but the fact that I'd never heard a thing about the movie (and I'll wager you haven't either) until I called the Pushkinsky Theater two hours ago to get their schedule is a pretty damn significant enthusiasm-dampening device. A brief Internet search unearthed the kinds of reviews that Eddie & the Cruisers 3 will get, if such a film ever has the good fortune to be made (keep in mind that will most definitely stands be a Canadian production). This doesn't necessarily mean anything, of course, but anyone who owns more than one pair of shoes should still harbor some serious doubts. I might crank out a half-assed review in the next issue. Then again, I might not.

I could say pretty much the same thing for The Truman Show, which you almost certainly have heard something about. If y'all really want a laugh, take a look at Chris Floyd's biosphere babble about this particular media-culture-criticizing movie in last Friday's MT Out. On the other hand, your precious moments might be better spent practicing your bindle-making technique. The mind is indeed a terrible thing to waste, but turning it into half a pound of Jello-brand gelatin with the help of a consignment of very hard drugs is another thing entirely.

Before I move on to the actual review part of the review, allow me to suggest that the very best thing you could in the next week or so is to sit quietly at home with blinders over your eyes waiting for next weekend's not-to-be-missed Vacuum concerts. If you still don't know who those folks are, go watch MUZ-TV for 20 minutes and get back to me. [Time out for fun...]

OK, now that everyone's up to speed I trust there's no need to go into exactly why these concerts are not to be missed. Which then frees us up to take a terribly superficial look at Steven Soderbergh's Out of Sight, which seems terribly appropriate considering how superficially the author of the source novel, Elmore Leonard, is read. Why do I say that he's superficially read? Well, because Leonard's books are only purchased by industry types at exclusive book shops in Los Angeles. And as Lost Highway indirectly demonstrated, Los Angeles industry types do not read. For instance, Quentin Tarantino likes to cite Leonard as an influence. Can you imagine Tarantino ever picking up a book, let alone reading one? I didn't think so. Moreover, Leonard's novels are often discussed at relative length in reviews of the film versions of such novels written (the reviews, that is) by Roger Ebert, who is from Chicago and therefore probably cannot read at all. In fact, I'm not even 100% convinced that Leonard himself is capable of reading, not that such an inability should keep a earnest industry type from writing best-selling books.

The upshot of all this is that it's a lot easier to like a bad book you haven't read than one you have. Which is as good an explanation of Leonard's popularity as anything. Not that this helps to explain the similar popularity of Leonard-based movies, mind you. Any adult illiteracy program participant ought to be able to understand that Get Shorty is an abysmal movie. But it didn't work out that way. For some twisted LA reason, this leads to the inevitable verdict that Out of Sight is also not an abysmal movie. And the really funny (as in strange funny, not ha-ha funny) thing is that it isn't, actually. At least half of it, that is.

This, the non-abysmal half, is equal parts Pulp Fiction (including an uncredited appearance by Samuel L. Jackson in the final scene), eerily Michael Bass-ian scenes involving a fat bald man in Lompoc Federal Penitentiary for credit card fraud, and Dennis Farina at his nonchalant best.

But the abysmal half (a bit more than half, actually) has a whole shit load of things wrong with it. Michael Keaton in an uncredited appearance as his Jackie Brown character, for starters. Or how about Boogie Nights dweeb Don Cheadle as a Tupac-looking former boxer convict named "Snoop"? And Out of Sight is the second movie in the last year (after Gross Point Black) that attempts to glorify Detroit. Nearly 30 years ago, Detriot was repulsive enough to churn out the MC5 and the Stooges almost simultaneously, and it can't have gotten much nicer during the subsequent decades. Anyone who really wants a glimpse of the true Motor City should check out the "All-Detroit Issue" of the Fuck Everything zine, a refreshingly sophomoric site that's not afraid to repeatedly call you an asshole simply for accessing it.

Of course, the real problem with Out of Sight's abysmal half is the nauseating way Leonard always waxes the egos of industry types (himself included) who wish they were (or have even somehow deluded themselves into believing they are) bad-ass gangsters or criminals. Plus, they're always really smart criminals. But even the whitest of white-collar criminal knows that no career bank robber pushing middle age with three jail terms under his belt could possibly look as soft and cuddly as mass-market-friendly teddy bear George Clooney...

Aw fuck it-the movie's not even that bad really. It's just a waste of time. You really are better off going to one of the Vacuum concerts. Seriously, folks.