(Dir: Phillip Noyce, US, 1999) Starring: Denzel Washington, Angelina Jolie, Michael Rooker, Ed O’Neill.
Psycho thrillers have been all the rage over the last ten years or so. Ever since Silence of the Lambs earned huge critical and commercial success at the beginning of the nineties, mainstream US directors have been falling over themselves to get in on the act. As a result, it has become the second most ridiculously copied premise (after the ‘man against a load of terrorists in a confined location’ concept copied by every action movie since Die Hard) in Hollywood. As a result, a film such as this one will only work if (like Seven, for example) it brings a new twist to the genre with it. Unfortunately, the idea that the detective is paralysed is not exactly a new one (Ironside, anyone?) – something which the scriptwriters obviously realised by only having him in a wheelchair for the final scene. The Bone Collector falls down badly because of its formulaic, cliched and derivative script and not even a fairly subtle performance from Washington can save it.
Famed detective Lincoln Rhyme (Washington) is paralysed responding to a routine incident and spends his life tied to a bed reliant on a series of machines to regulate his heart, blood pressure and other vital functions, as only his brain, neck and right middle finger work. He still works on specific cases that take his interest such as the one that forms the basis of the film’s main plot thread. A stereotypical genius madman is capturing and killing off innocent victims under the guise of being a New York cabbie. When rookie cop Amelia (Jolie) finds the latest body, Washington sees something of himself in her and brings her into his team of typical wisecracking investigators. As the bodies mount up (one guy is tied up and eaten to death by rats, would you believe), Washington and Jolie come under increasing pressure to track down the madman who by movie law, must be someone introduced to the audience in a different guise earlier on in the movie.
The film’s director, Phillip Noyce, is a past master at psycho thrillers and has made far better ones than this piece of tripe. Unlike Dead Calm, there is no suspense or genuine thrills here – only a silly denouement and a number of nasty death scenarios. Washington does his best to add emotion to a character who knows he could turn into a vegetable at any moment whilst Jolie is at best satisfactory. Michael Rooker, a fine actor given the right material (Henry:Portrait Of A Serial Killer), turns up in a horribly written and cliched supporting role as Washington’s ex-colleague turned jealous police chief. There is no real chemistry or emotional resonance between the two main characters (there is, however, an outrageous finger fondling scene) and when the killer finally reveals himself, all you feel is apathy for the whole enterprise.
Noyce’s next film, is Sum of All Fears, the latest Tom Clancy novel to be turned into a movie, which should provide him with a chance to redeem himself. However, after this and his last film (The Saint) he’s going to have to get his act together in a big way to avoid ending up on the Hollywood dumpster and after such an auspicious debut as Dead Calm, that would be a shame.
Luke Watts.
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