|
I recently wrote an article on Steven Seagal's comeback based on this and
another new film and a host of new (and bizarre) exploits - including a forthcoming blues album and the fact that
Seagal's website (www.stevenseagal.com) is probably the best on the net - shame the content is sparse.
Seagal is such a fascinating enigma. He's consistently reinvented himself in a career
that has endured countless lowpoints and produced a startling amount of
turd. Seagal and his smug handicap possess
a je ne sais quoi that puts his one-dimensionable, spin-easy, self-obsessed contemporaries to
shame. His yin/yang reputation mixes fortitude, compassion and respect with an adulturous, irreverent
regard for others that must be applauded considering
contemporary Hollywood's demand for spotless perfection. Seagal is the ghost in the machine that Hollywood just can't exorcise
and for this he deserves respect.
And so his return to the big screen is a welcome one. This time up, the CIA's favourite
ex-employee offers up a worthy effort under the close scrutiny of hitmaker Joel Silver (he was the
basis of the crazed film producer in True Romance).
Silver deserves credit for supressing (or maybe eclipsing) the Seagal ego - something only Under
Siege and Nico have ever managed - and it's no coincidence they're his best efforts.
Although the odd cliche slips the net, the Seagal persona is shoehorned into an ensemble piece
where the other actors and action are granted equal billing to the Tango Man.
Saying this much of the cast is surplus to requirements, with a host of needless characters
contributing to the mix without really developing or making
an impact. This is the result of a concerted effort to cover
every base - from comedy to buddy movie to martial arts to conspiracy to techno thriller - which
leaves the film somewhat out of breath by the finale. Exit Wounds borrows shamelessly from its
contemporaries (Usual Suspects, Lethal Weapon - there are 2 x Joe Pesci characters) but
the action remains stilted, the plot convoluted and the entire thing refuses to flow despite
the numerous chases, explosions and set pieces. The athletic choreography (a la Romeo Must Die)
is unconvinving and to be honest, with Seagal's talent, needless.
DMX proves remarkably able and Seagal even steals a scene from Tom Arnold, finally proving comedic
for the right reasons as well as the wrong. The best moment though comes in the end credits where Tom Arnold and pal are left to
ad lib on their fictitious chatshow with hilarious results.
Up there with Seagal's finer moments but more of a Glimmer Man
than a Nico.
A necessity for the fans, otherwise one for after the pub.
RATING: (c)Limer 2001
|
Exit Wounds (Cinema: April 2001)
