FILM REVIEW OF ''HOUSE BY THE RIVER" (1950)

Although director Fritz Lang’s “House by the River” doesn’t rank as one of his major films, such as “M,” “Metropolis,” “Fury,” or “The Big Heat,” this morbid Victorian melodrama about murder most foul contains enough of his characteristic themes to make it rewarding for people who fancy his films. Several reasons account for its lackluster stature. First, Republic Studios produced and released “House by the River” (*** OUT OF ****) and Republic was a poverty row studio, unlike prominent studios such as MGM, Warner Brothers, Paramount, or Twentieth Century Fox, though the great John Ford made pictures at Republic. Second, the talent is strictly second tier. Louis Hayward never achieved the stardom of earlier Lang stars, such as Spencer Tracy, Henry Fonda, Ray Milland, and Walter Pidgeon. Nevertheless, Hayward acquits himself splendidly in the role of a treacherous murderer who has no qualms about doing whatever it takes to save his neck, even if it means shifting the blame to his brother. The remainder of the cast is serviceable, except for Jody Gilbert who plays a fatuous housekeeper to the protagonist’s brother. Still, nobody can top the wicked Hayward whose character goes from one extreme, sniveling fear at the thought of being arrested to obnoxious egotism.

“House by the River” is confined largely to studio sets. First, the murder occurs in the protagonist’s dimly lighted mansion. Second, some scenes unfold in his crippled brother’s house—one room. Third, the courtroom is the setting for an inquest. Fourth, the protagonist and his brother ply the river in a boat in long shots of an actual river and a studio tank for the closer shots. Fifth, some scenes transpire on the grounds of the mansion and on a nearby dock. All in all, “House by the River” is appropriately claustrophobic. The river takes on an eerie character of its own, especially the jumping fish that preys on the protagonist’s paranoia. Despite its modest surrounding, Lang and his cinematographer do an excellent job of conveying information about the various characters. The imagery has a haunting quality that indicates that Lang was a master of crime movies, even though he labored under less than stellar conditions. Although the melodrama is conventional in every sense of the word, Lang’s camerawork and the mise-en-scene that he evokes is far from ordinary. He does a terrific job of depicting suspicion, murder, paranoia, and the toll that gossip takes on an individual.

The problem with “House by the River” is that you know what is going to happen for the most part because Hollywood movies of the 1950s always punished the murderer. In other words, crime never paid and the villains got their comeuppance. Scenarist Mel Dinelli derived his screenplay from A. P. Herbert’s novel. Lang and he cultivate a modicum of suspense, but not enough to have you wringing your hands. Actually, it is fun—in a perverse way—to watch the
unscrupulous Hayward tries to get away with his crime, but like previous Lang murderers, he is so warped that he can never escape the consequences of his acts.

A middling crime novelist, Stephen Byrne (Louis Hayward of “Anthony Adverse”) murders his wife’s maid, Emily (Dorothy Patrick of “Follow Me Quietly”), by accident. Stephen accosts her as she descends the stair after bathing in his wife’s bathroom and wearing her perfume and tries to kiss her. It seems that Stephen had a drink and looked up to see a pair of curvaceous thighs coming down the stairs and couldn’t control himself. Emily deflects his lustful advances, screams when he refuses to let her pass, and keeps on screaming irrationally until he strangles her to death. Stephen is distracted by the appearance of a nosy next door neighbor, Mrs. Ambrose (Anne Shoemaker of “They Won’t Forget”), and assures Emily that he will release her if she only shuts up. Tragically, Emily doesn’t stop screaming and Stephen kills her with his bare hands. No sooner has Stephen murdered her than sometime comes knocking at his door. Stephen cowers near the corpse hoping that the individual at the door will go away. Just when he thinks this person has left, the individual surprises Stephen and enters by the back door. Stephen is relieved when he realizes that it is only his crippled brother John (Lee Bowman of “Bataan”) who walks with a limp and earns his living as an accountant. Stephen convinces John not to go the police because he fears that the authorities won’t believe his story. Initially, Stephen lies to John and tells him that Emily fell down the stairs. John spots the marks on Emily’s throat and knows that she has been strangled. Against his best instincts, John decides to aid and abet Stephen. It seems that John has helped Stephen out of other jams. Just when John decides to change his mind, Stephen lies that his wife Marjorie (Jane Wyatt) is going to have a baby. Reluctantly, John helps Stephen dispose of the body in the river. Earlier, in the first scenes, Mrs. Ambrose complained that the currents of the river conveyed hideous sites. Lang foreshadows the role that the river will play in Stephen’s future. Just when he thinks that he is free and clear, here comes Mrs. Ambrose complaining again about the flotsam in the river. John is especially terrified because he learns to his chagrin that the sack that they stashed Emily in has his name stenciled on it.

Anyway, Stephen and John dispose of Emily’s body in the river, but the body comes back on them like everything else. John’s guilty conscience gets the best of him and his nosy housekeeper, Miss Bantam (Jody Gilbert of “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”), suggests that his erratic behavior after Emily’s mysterious disappearance is proof that he had something to do with her death. Meanwhile, Stephen unravels and tries to kill his own brother and implicate him for Emily’s death. The authorities never catch up with Stephen. His paranoia proves his undoing in a surrealistic comeuppance that has him strangling himself in a curtain that he believes his Emily. As he did in “Fury,” Lang uses public opinion generated by gossip to condemn an essentially innocent but misguided character. Good performances, good atmosphere, and Lang’s sure hand at the helm make this melodrama better than a lesser director would have made it. While it isn’t a comedy, “House by the River” seems to foreshadow “The Trouble with Harry,” the Hitchcock movie about a corpse that keeps showing up and driving people crazy.

FILM REVIEW OF ''SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE'' (2008)

British director Danny Boyle, best known for “Trainspotting” and “The Beach,” has made the rags-to-riches feel-good film of the year with "Slumdog Millionaire." Mind you, Indian co-director Loveleen Tandan, who served as a second unit director on “Monsoon Wedding” (2001), helped Boyle out. Set in contemporary India, this winsome tale about three dirt-poor orphans who rise above abject squalor and poverty to attain their most outlandish dreams of romance and riches qualifies as modern day Charles Dickens morality play. Indeed, you could also compare "Slumdog Millionaire” (**** out of ****) to those vintage 1930s' Warner Brothers crime classics where one kid plunges down the wrong path while the other takes the right path. Ultimately, the brothers here find themselves at odds with each other on different sides of the law. The bad people are punished in "Slumdog," while the good people are rewarded. “Full Monty” scenarist Simon Beaufoy based his lively script on diplomat-turned-novelist Vikas Swarup’s first book, “Q & A,” about an Indian waiter who was arrested for cheating on a quiz show. Don't let the foreign oriented storyline discourage you from enjoying this inspirational yarn. Boyle provides interesting, off-beat looking subtitles for the Hindu dialogue, but the cast deliver most of the lines in English. If you’re looking for a change of pace, “Slumdog Millionaire” is just the ticket. As upbeat and optimistic as “Slumdog” is, prepare yourself for some scenes that may make you wince. “Slumdog” deserved its R-rating as much as it deserved his Best Picture Oscar. This movie is far more entertaining than the imaginative but long-winded Brad Pitt epic “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.”

Basically, “Slumdog Millionaire” concerns the coincidences that land a teenaged Muslim refugee from the Bombay slums, Jamal Malik (Dev Patel), on the Indian equivalent of the ABC-TV show “Who Wants to be a Millionaire.” Since he is a product of the slums, our long-suffering hero is regarded with considerable suspicion. Jamal keeps surprising the slimy quiz show host Prem Kumar (veteran Bollywood actor Anil Kupoor) with one correct answer after another and the jealous Kumar turns him over to the authorities. Kumar is convinced that Jamal is a cheater. Kumar is far from saintly himself and doesn’t want Jamal to steal his glory. It seems Kumar’s meteoric rise in show business came about as a result of giving the right answers on a game show. At the outset, “Slumdog” creates suspense for audiences with the important question: “Jamal Malik is one question away from winning 20 million rupees. How did he do it? A. He cheated. B. He’s lucky. C. He’s a genius. D. It is written.” Indeed, Jamal is poised to win more wealth that he can possibly imagine when the police subject him to a night of torture. They beat him up and finally attach jumper cables to his toes to make him confess. Our stubborn hero refuses to capitulate. The chief police investigator, Irfan Khan (Irrfan Khan), finds it difficult to believe that a kid from the slums could know so much.

Boyle’s strategy in "Slumdog" is to alternate each unusual question that our beleaguered hero answers with an episode from his traumatic life that relates to each question. The scene when Jamal plunges into an outdoors toilet, covering himself from head-to-toe in human feces, so he can obtain an autograph from his favorite movie superstar is hilarious. Actually, the fecal matter consisted of peanut butter and chocolate. (This scene is reminiscent of a similar episode from "Trainspotting" where an Edinburgh junkie dives into a toilet to retrieve a narcotic suppository.) During his youth, Jamal and his brother Salim (Madhur Mital) encounter some genuinely sleazy characters, especially one unsavory fellow who likes to 'rescue' orphans from the streets so that he can turn them into beggars. This part of “Slumdog” may remind you of Charles Dickens’s second novel “Oliver Twist.” Anyway, this scoundrel likes to blind small children and send them out to beg and sing for money. Jamal and Salim escape from this life, but in doing so, Jamal abandons--against his will--a girl named Latika (Frieda Pinto) for whom he has sworn his undying love. Of course, the evil child exploiter sells Latika to men who want to see her dance. Hmm, I wonder what the Indian Tourist Bureau thinks about this saga. Ten years ago, "Slumdog" would have taken place in Brazil. Suffice to say that the hero and heroine are separated with little chance of being reunited. Happily, however, "Slumdog" takes several astonishing twists and turns before fade-out that will surprise you, and ultimately make you feel good, perhaps even great, depending on how much you love fairy tales.

Although it runs two hours in length, “Slumdog Millionaire” never wastes a second. Boyle and Tandan turn this helter-skelter saga into a rollercoaster. As a glimpse of India, “Slumdog” is enlightening as well as horrifying. If nothing else, you’ll learn to never shed your shoes around the Taj Mahal. The casting of our heroes from adolescence to teenagers is nothing short of brilliant. This is no Hollywood hokum where the children look nothing like the adults. Jamal follows the straight and narrow after Salim and he indulge in juvenile delinquency that recalls the shenanigans of the Jewish kids in Sergio Leone’s gangster classic “Once Upon a Time in America.” You won’t forget “Slumdog Millionaire.” The irony of all this is “Slumdog,” which received 8 Oscars as well as two more Oscar nominations, almost wound up going straight to DVD because nobody believed it could recoup its $15 million budget. At this point, “Slumdog” has coined over $116 million dollars!

FILM REVIEW OF ''A View to a Kill" (1985)

The fourteenth James Bond extravaganza “A View to a Kill” pitted 007 (Roger Moore) against the franchise’s most psychotic villain, ‘staunch, anti-Communist,’ French industrialist Max Zorin (Oscar winner Christopher Walken of “The Deer Hunter”), who schemes to corner the micro-chip market by destroying Silicon Valley. Essentially, this Bond movie recalled “Goldfinger” because Zorin resembled Goldfinger with his immense wealth and his audacious plan to wipe out Silicon Valley the way that Goldfinger sought to take over the gold market by turning America’s supply of gold at Fort Knox in a radioactive rubble.

Indeed, as villains go, Zorin ranks as one of the more memorable with an interesting back story. An ethically challenged Nazi scientist, Dr. Carl Mortner (Willoughby Gray of “Waterloo”), carried out steroid testing on pregnant women and most of the offspring died. One of them, Zorin, survived to become a genius but a psychotic. Zorin and the good doctor who had been captured by the Soviets after World War II later employed his knowledge of steroids to help Soviet athletes. If that isn’t a casual slap in the face of Communists, what is? Mind you, the Bond movies neither demonized the Soviets, nor did they romanticize the Russkies. The Soviets made mistakes, but they always managed to clean up after themselves. In the previous Bond adventure, “Octopussy,” the Soviets caught up with a renegade black market General Orlov (Steven Berkoff of “Beverly Hills Cop”) who tried to ignite a nuclear war and frame the Americans. In “A View to a Kill,” the Soviet catch up with Zorin who had been in cahoots with them in the microchip manufacturer business but the two fell out. Indeed, like all the Roger Moore Bond’s after “Live and Let Die,” “A View to a Kill” takes place with in the context of the Cold War. Furthermore, while tensions exist between East and West, there is also an air of détente that characterize these Bonds.

Although it proved to be Roger Moore’s last mission as James Bond and it didn’t surpass the box office receipt of “Octopussy,” “A View to a Kill” contains more than enough virtues, such as the snow pursuit in Siberia, Bond’s careening car chase through Paris, and Zorin’s sadistic massacre of his own men in a secluded mine in California. Original 007 composer John Barry provides a strong, atmospheric orchestral soundtrack and the Duran Duran title tune is a knock-out! The Richard Maibaum & Michael G. Wilson screenplay contains a some imaginative twists on the Bond formula, especially with regard to the sacrificial girl convention. Essentially, the sacrificial girl in most Bonds is either an agent working with Bond as in “Thunderball” or the villain’s girl as in “The Man with the Golden Gun.” Oh, yes, let’s not forget Plenty O’Toole who stumbles into bad girl Tiffany Case’s house and dies because the villains catch her. The difference with “A View to a Kill” is that Mayday (Grace Jones) is not only Zorin’s main squeeze but also a villainess herself. She has to die, but her death is heroic. Alan Hume’s cinematography is good and John Glen never lets the pace flag in his third outing as a Bond helmer.

Director John Glen stages several interesting sequences. The fistfights lack pugnacity, primarily those at Zorin’s laboratories and in Stacy Sutton’s home, but Zorin’s plan for Operation: Mainstrike against Silicon Valley takes place in a zeppelin, but we don’t know that until one of Zorin’s associates literally takes a walk into thin air for refuses to participate in his Silicon Valley scheme. The scene opens in a conference room as Zorin explains how Mainstrike will work and we don’t know until the last second that they are hundreds of feet in the air. The fire truck chase with the SFPD in pursuit is reminiscent of “Diamonds Are Forever” and “Live and Let Die.” There’s a robust disaster sequence when Zorin kills a San Francisco City Hall official and traps Stacy and Bond in an elevator while setting the building ablaze. Stacy Sutton (Tanya Roberts of TV’s “Charlie’s Angels”) qualifies as the most annoyingly hysterical heroine of the franchise. She screams convincingly throughout the blazing city hall predicament. As seemingly lightweight as “A View to a Kill” is you cannot overlook Sir Godfrey Tibbett’s murder by Mayday and Zorin’s decision to plunge a KGB agent into a shaft with a whirling propeller at the other end. Actually, we see him thrown into the shaft by Zorin’s men and he dies in a gush of water. Occasionally, Bonds contain gruesome death scenes that—owing to their PG-ratings—are left to the imagination of the spectator. Of course, it isn’t as grisly as the snow plow scene in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service,” but violence does creep into every Bond.

The scenes are Zorin’s equine stables and the eccentric Frenchman’s chateau is scenic. The idea that Zorin and his doctor pal are tampering with horse racings is no doubt inspired by the characteristically decadent Ian Fleming villain who cannot help but cheat, even when he has more money that most people. Christopher Walken with his blond hair is ideally cast as the devious Zorin. Unfortunately, to be as nefarious as Zorin is, he lets 007 off the hook too easily. Bond’s escape from the sinking car is slick but far from believable and the shift from the lake to San Francisco is the film’s weakest link. Furthermore, Patrick Macnee’s demise is glossed over too much. Patrick Bauchau plays Zorin’s right-hand man and actress Alison Doody is one of his girls. Robert Brown plays M and Lois Maxwell plays Ms. Moneypenny for the last time. Desmond Llewelyn shows up again as Q and gets to lecture 007about the usefulness of the microchip at the outset of the action in M’s office. Geoffrey Keen is on hand as Defense Minister Freddie Gray. Bond regular Walter Gotell reprises his role as the sympathetic KGB chief, while future B-movie action star Dolph Lundgren has a moment as a KGB henchman at a race track when the Soviets upbraid Zorin. This is one of many Bonds with a pre-credit sequence that is actually a part of the remaining plot. “A View to a Kill” isn’t as bad as some might argue. It tops “Live and Let Die” and “The Man with the Golden Gun,” but it isn’t as great as “The Spy Who Loved Me.” Naturally, "A View to a Kill" has nothing to do with Ian Fleming's short story.

FILM REVIEW OF ''MADEA GOES TO JAIL''

They call her Mabel Simmons, but everybody knows her as Madea. This elderly but agile, six-foot-five, African-American matriarch can whip her own weight in cops. She can mangle Biblical scripture, but still make her points. Atlanta-based filmmaker Tyler Perry has now helmed three theatrical features about this short-tempered, bespectacled, gray-haired grandma who packs an automatic pistol in her purse and isn’t afraid to use it. In Perry’s latest comedy “Madea Goes to Jail” (**** out of ****), an impatient young woman in a red convertible swerves past Madea’s Cadillac as our heroine cruises through her local Big K in search of a parking space. Madea has her sights set on a space near the front doors. Before Madea can pull into it, the red convertible woman cuts her off and parks in the space. Madea harangues the woman for stealing her space. Ignoring Madea, the woman saunters off into the store. An angry Madea commandeers a nearby fork lift and hoists the woman’s convertible out of her parking space! When the shocked woman scrambles into the parking lot screaming at Madea to put her car down, Madea obliges her cheerfully. No sooner has Madea dropped the convertible than the woman uses her cell phone to call her police husband to come haul off Jemima the Hun!

Anybody who has seen “Diary of a Mad Black Woman,” “Madea’s Family Reunion,” and/or “Meet the Browns” knows that writer, producer, director Tyler Perry makes people laugh harder and longer impersonating an angry black woman than Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence put together. The matronly Madea ranks as one of the most maniacal comic characters you’ll ever see, and her seismic slapstick shenanigans in “Madea Goes to Jail” register like an epic earthquake on the Richter scale. We learn at the outset that Madea has bounced checks, stolen identities, worked as a stripper to feed her family, and drives without a license. She refuses to admit that she has ever flown into a rage and she doesn’t like people touching her. Meanwhile, when Tyler isn’t playing Madea, he plays Madea’s beleaguered thirty-something attorney son Brian and Madea’s crotchety old coot of a husband Joe who smokes pot while he is hooked up to an oxygen machine. The antics of this dysfunctional family will keep you guffawing until your sides split, but Perry doesn’t make “Madea Goes to Jail” one long laugh after another. Moreover, he doesn’t utilize Madea strictly for comic relief. Indeed, he uses everybody’s favorite matriarch to make some heavyweight philosophical points.

Perry alternates between Madea’s pratfalls and the predicament of a drug-addicted young woman with a history of abuse who has been arrested for prostitution. Atlanta District Attorney Joshua Hardaway (Derek Luke of “Biker Boyz”) has the world by the coattails. Joshua has a great job, good friends, and a pampered princess of a fiancé, Assistant District Attorney Linda (Ion Overman), who boasts an 89 percent conviction rate. Joshua is about to prosecute the case against Candy (“The Cosby Show’s” Keshia Knight Pulliam) until he recognizes her as a childhood friend. Excusing himself, Joshua turns the case over to Linda. Joshua is clearly shaken by the appearance of his old friend, and he helps Candy make bail. Afterward, he introduces the defiant Candy to a tough-love minister, Ellen (Viola Davis of “Doubt”), who runs interference for prostitutes in the red light district and tries to rescue them. Candy turns her nose up to Ellen. Meanwhile, Linda isn’t happy about her new competition, especially when Joshua rescues Candy after an abusive pimp that beats her. Joshua reassures Linda that he doesn’t love Candy. Nevertheless, every time Linda turns around, Candy shows up at Joshua’s apartment. Linda tampers with the evidence in Candy’s case, and the judge sentences Candy to a 17-year stretch in prison. At the same time, Linda turns her wrath on Madea who hasn’t done a day in jail. The judge (real-life Judge Matthias) lowers the gavel on Madea. He sentences Madea to five to ten years because of the convertible incident.

When Tyler Perry isn’t making madcap Madea movies, he has been sharpening his skill with melodramas, such as “Why Did I Get Married” and “The Family That Preys,” that bristle with histrionics galore. Typically, proud villains flaunt the upper hand for the first half of these yarns. During the second half, however, the meek triumph over the proud. Half of the fun of watching “The Family That Preys,” “Why Did I Get Married,” and even “Madea Goes to Jail” is savoring the success of the meek over the proud. Perry likes to bring the bad to their knees the same way that Madea unloads that red convertible with a crash in the Big K parking lot. You’ll see more than enough of this in “Madea Goes to Jail.” The villains—especially haughty Linda—make you want to shadow box with their screen images while sympathetic individuals like Joshua make you want to embrace them. Anytime a movie can make you laugh, cry, and then laugh again, you know you’ve found something worth watching. “Madea Goes to Jail” makes you laugh, cry, and laugh again and you don’t have to be African-American to enjoy it. Perry concludes this cataclysmic comedy on a high note as Madea winds up having to attend another anger management session with Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil may never be the same after this movie. Incidentally, the theatrical version of Tyler Perry’s “Madea Goes to Jail” differs substantially from the 2006 video release “Madea Goes to Jail.” The two are alike only because they share the same title and title character. Realistically, "Madea Goes to Jail" should have been retitled "Madea Goes to Prison."

FILM REVIEW OF ''MAGNUM FORCE" (1973)

Clint Eastwood reprises his role as Inspector Harry Callahan of the San Francisco Police Department in "Hang'em High" director Ted Post's "Dirty Harry" sequel "Magnum Force." The sturdy supporting cast includes Hal Holbrook, David Soul, Robert Ulrich, Tim Matheson, John Mitchum and Mitchell Ryan. The vigorous John Milius & Michael Cimino screenplay clarifies our hero's law & order ideology that he took so much flak for in the original. Indeed, "Magnum Force" whitewashes Eastwood's saintly but insubordinate cop. Remember, in "Dirty Harry," he ignored the law when he tried to save the life of a kidnapped girl, but Harry's violation of the villain's Miranda rights allowed the fiend to go free despite overwhelming evidence that he was the murderer. In "Magnum Force," we find Harry back on the job. The filmmakers never explain what precisely occurred during the interim, but it really doesn't matter. Harry is back and that is all that counts. Harry encounters a quartet of gung-ho 'young Turk' motorcycle traffic cops who are crack shots with their .357 magnum service revolvers.

"Magnum Force" opens with an angry mob of citizens protesting the release of infamous mobster Carmine Ricca (career character actor villain Richard Devon of "The Silencers") and his associates, who walk out of court, climb into their automobile and tool off to freedom despite the riotous crowd. They don't get very far before a uniformed traffic cop in black leather with a cream white helmet pulls them over for crossing the double lines on the freeway. When the thug driver gives the cop some lip, the cop—who we cannot see because he is virtually anonymous in his regalia—whips out of his service revolver and punches holes in all four of them, leaving them sprawled dead in the car. Harry investigates and his new superior, Lieutenant Neil Briggs (Hal Holbrook of "The Great White Hope") chews him out for not being on the stake-out to which he has been assigned. By this time, Harry has acquired a new partner, an African-American (Felton Perry of the original "Walking Tall") to show that he isn't a bigot. Harry takes Smith out to airport to grab a hamburger and stumbles onto a hijacking plot. Harry masquerades as an airline pilot to get aboard the jetliner and thwarts the swarthy looking hijackers with a few shots. When Harry gets back to the stake-out at a super market, he nails a couple of gun-toting bandits. Later, a pimp (Albert Popwell who played the bank robber in "Dirty Harry" that was on the receiving end of Callahan's speech) corners one of his girls at night and takes a stash of cash that she has been hording. He repays her greedy by pouring drain cleaner down her throat. The next time that we see the pimp he is being pulled over by another traffic cop. He offers the cop a bribe and the cop blows him away. prefer to take the law into their own hands and execute crooks that rely on the loopholes in justice to get out of being prosecuted from their crimes.

Ted Post isn't half of the helmer that Don Siegel was, and "Magnum Force" pales by comparison with its illustrious predecessor. First, despite the presence of some strong villains, the bad guys are rather straightforward types. Nobody is as psychotic as Andy Robinson's Scorpio in "Dirty Harry." These antagonists are well-heeled gangsters with armies of gunmen or they are slickly dressed motorcycle cops with impenetrable sunglasses that make them look intimidating. All in all, "Magnum Force" is rather conventional. Dirty Harry fans would have to wait for "Sudden Impact" before the character had another memorable speech. The closest that Milius & Cimino come to a signature line is Harry's comment: "A man has got to know his limitations." Otherwise, the dialogue is as disposable as the spent shells that Harry empties from his revolver. The shoot-outs are staged with some competence, and lenser Frank Stanley's camera-work is far about average. There is a major shoot-out between a mob and Harry. Eventually, Harry winds up on the hood of the car being driven by a hood that conveniently loses control of the vehicle and impales himself on a crane. Early in the storyline, Harry stumbles across a career cop and an old friend, Officer Charlie McCoy (Mitchell Ryan of "High Plains Drifter") who hates the system almost as much as Harry does and makes no pretense about it. Milius and Cimino use McCoy as the red herring. He appears to be the unhinged cop who has been killing thugs, that is, until he gets killed himself.

A little more than half-way through the action, the badguys identify themselves to Harry and ask him to join them. Surprisingly, for them, Harry refuses to and it's only a matter of time before he has to confront them. As it turns out, Harry's worst suspicions have come true. Vigilante cops within the SFPD are knocking off suspected criminals with extreme prejudice. Eventually, Harry has to tangle with them aboard a mothballed aircraft carrier after a brisk but uneventful car chase. The motorcycle stunts come off looking tame.

The biggest difference in "Magnum Force" from "Dirty Harry" is the relationships that Harry has with women. He had no woman in "Dirty Harry," but here we see him date an Asian-American as well as Charlie's ex-wife. Harry never gets them between the sheets because he has to respond to some criminal emergency that cannot wait for him. Interestingly, according to scenarist John Milius—in an above-average but less than satisfactorily complete commentary—revealed that Eastwood had received mail from women requesting that he work women into the movies, but that the women come onto Harry instead of vice-versa. "Magnum Force" packs a lot of heat, but it cannot compare with Don Siegel's original. Hal Holbrook makes an okay villain. John Mitchum returns as Inspector Frank DiGiorgo, the only cast member who appeared in the original "Dirty Harry."

FILM REVIEW OF ''SAVING PRIVATE RYAN" (1998)

Lately, when Hollywood produces war movies, they focus on the debacle of Vietnam. Not director Steven Spielberg! Instead, the incredibly versatile helmer of "Jaws," "Schindler's List," "The Color Purple," and "Jurassic Park" impales a patriotic chapter of American history on a bayonet with his graphically realistic but otherwise sappy "Saving Private Ryan." "Saving Private Ryan" (**1/2 out of ****) ranks as a second-rate World War II movie with a first-class cast and top-notch production values that pass inspection with some of the most savage combat carnage ever lensed. As demeaning as this criticism sounds, "Saving Private Ryan" is one of the top 25 World War II movies. Unfortunately, the film contains so many glaring historical inaccuracies as well as wholly improbable plot contrivances that you wonder what Spielberg was thinking when he made it. Since "Saving Private Ryan" swamped moviegoers with cutting edge combat action, Ridley Scott's "Black Hawk Down" and Sylvester Stallone's "Rambo" have eclipsed it with even greater cutting edge violence.

If the story had been as memorable as the kinetic, blood-splattered battle scenes, "Saving Private Ryan" might have been a classic. Essentially, "Saving Private Ryan" is a ten-star movie until the U.S. Army gets off the beach and into France where it devolves into just another standard-issue G.I. Joe war epic. Anybody who knows anything about combat movies will cringe the first time that they see the hero parading about in a helmet with the captain's bars painted on the front like a bull's eye. This is an egregious error! During World War II, officers didn't advertise their presence in this manner for fear that an enemy sniper would single them out for a bullet in the head. Okay, I'd dismiss this lapse of realism as a dramatic liberty except the filmmakers raise the same point. A seasoned dogface (Vin Diesel) warns a rank amateur to stop saluting the captain for fear that a sniper will shoot the captain down.

Dispersed throughout the movie is the usual quota of Hallmark speeches about valor, loyalty, and redemption. These platitudes add little dimension beyond the obvious to the purely physical rat-a-tat-tat. Spielberg could have trimmed much of this sappy dialogue and upgraded his movie. Running nearly three hours in length, this rowdy, often profane World War II melodrama creates a deeper impression with is grotesque special effects than with its drab, sometimes improbable tale. Consider the scene in the town when the wall collapses between the Germans and the GIs and they stand with their arms brandished screaming at each like a Mexican stand-off. Come on, give me a break, in real life, either side would have opened up on each other. Similarly, letting Steamboat Willie go is another incredible lapse of believability.

Told from the perspective of the infantry, "Saving Private Ryan" shares in the grand tradition of Louis Milestone's classic "All Quiet on the Western Front," Samuel Fuller's "The Big Red One," Lewis Milestone's "A Walk in the Sun," and William Wellman's "Background." Granted, none of them boasts the extreme combat that "Saving Private Ryan" commands, but they are solidly-made, engaging war movies with deeply personal stories. The muddled but high-minded screenplay by "Fly Away House" scenarist Robert Rodat follows a unit of U.S. Rangers on a dim-witted public relations mission to rescue an American paratrooper.

Captain Miller (Tom Hanks of "Forrest Gump") assembles a collection of stock characters to help him locate 101ST Airborne Paratrooper Private James Ryan of Iowa. Ryan (Matt Damon of "Good Will Hunting") has gotten lost behind enemy lines in the pre-dawn parachute drops that preceded the June 6th D-Day Normandy Invasion. When the War Department discovers that Ryan's two brothers bite the sand at Normandy and that the Japanese have killed a third sibling a week earlier, General George C. Marshall (Harve Presnell of "Fargo") decides to pull the last Ryan out of action. Along the way, Miller's G.I.s complain about the irony of risking eight lives to save one guy.

Before "Saving Private Ryan" grinds to its sanguinary conclusion, the Biblical theme of singling out an individual from a multitude for redemption grows tedious. Spielberg and Rodat, along with uncredited scribes Scott Frank and Frank "The Shawshank Redemption" Darabont, seem confused. Are they making a fiercely repellent anti-war movie? Or have the drummed up a gung-ho Hong Kong style, kick-butt actioneer? They pile on enough blood and gore for a platoon of war movies. Bullets zip and zing by the hundreds giving death an impersonal omnipotence. Presumably, the filmmakers hoped their grisly depiction of combat would eviscerate the memories of those flag-waving John Wayne propaganda sagas. The sadistic horrors that occur in "Saving Private Ryan" seems more commercially than philosophically oriented. We don't think so much about how terrible war is as how miraculous it is to survive.

The first 24 minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" dwells on the famous D-Day landing at Omaha Beach. Spielberg shows the baptism by fire that befell the seasick G.I.s as they waded ashore into a murderous Third Reich shooting gallery. This is the best part of this movie and guarantees it an immortal place in the ranks of all great combat epics. The last 40 minutes are pretty good and Spielberg has a surprise awaiting us at the end, but you won't like that surprise. After the scary, visceral D-Day prologue, the film settles down long enough for Miller to receive new orders. Eventually, Miller locates Ryan with a bunch of paratroopers guarding a bridge behind Nazi lines. Ryan refuses to leave his buddies in the lurch. Reluctantly, Miller and his squad prepare for the worst. This part of "Saving Private Ryan" has a lot of action, but it cannot compete with the 1960s ABC-TV show "Combat." Tom Sizemore makes a credible sergeant, but the usually dependable Edward Burns plays a soldier that would have been shot by his own men for disobeying orders. Tom Hanks' former teacher turned combat leader is a little too sentimental to be believable as is his inevitable demise. Many soldiers have commented--among them retired Joints Chiefs of Staff General Colin Powell--that Miller and his men should have blown the bridge and retreated. Of course, had our heroes shown this much common sense there would have been no climactic battle.

Spielberg relies on elaborate visual gimmicks to strengthen his screen activities. The astonishing combat sequences have the compressed look of a video surveillance camera. The only thing that saves Spielberg is the politically incorrect way that the G.I.s shoot the surrendering Nazi troops. "Saving Private Ryan," for all its obvious flaws, still qualifies a movie any die-hard World War II fanatic should watch at least three times. It is still difficult to believe that for such a serious film, "Saving Private Ryan" contains several mistakes that ultimately undercuts its impact.

FILM REVIEW OF ''JACKIE BROWN'' (1998)

If you’re expecting more of “Pulp Fiction” from writer & director Quentin Tarantino in “Jackie Brown,” the cult moviemaker’s first full-fledged cinematic opus since “Pulp Fiction,” then you may feel sorely let down by this extreme chick flick. Neither as sadistic nor as sexually bizarre as either “Reservoir Dogs” or “Pulp Fiction,” “Jackie Brown” (**** out of ****) represents something of a departure for the talented filmmaker. Indeed, an initial viewing may leave you with the impression that “Jackie Brown” suffers from a sketchy plot and lackluster action. Nothing could be farther from the truth. While “Jackie Brown” covers familiar “Pulp Fiction” territory, Tarantino emphasizes characterization at the expense of ultra-violence and implausibility. Furthermore, “Jackie Brown” may be Tarantino’s most accomplished film in terms of visual storytelling and the performances are simply unforgettable. Clearly, "Jackie Brown" deals with the themes of women versus men, women versus society, and women versus women in that order.

Veteran African-American actress Pam Grier, who made a name for herself during the 1970s with blaxploitation movies such as “The Big Doll House” (1971) and “Coffy” (1973), plays the eponymous heroine. As a 44-year old woman, Jackie works as a flight attendant for the worst airline, a shuttle that flies between the United States and Mexico. Life has not exactly been rosy for Jackie. She resorts to smuggling large sums of U.S. currency into the country that belongs to a treacherous arms dealer, Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson of “Pulp Fiction”) who stashes his cash in Cabo San Lucas. As the film opens, prickly ATF agent Ray Nicolette (Michael Keaton of “Batman”) busts Jackie for sneaking $50-thousand in past customs. Nicolette and his LAPD partner Mark Dargus (Michael Bowen of “Iron Eagle”) put the squeeze on her, especially after they discover a two ounce baggie of cocaine hidden in with the bucks.

Jackie finds herself in jail, and Robbie posts her bond. Robbie hires bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster of “Medium Cool”) to spring her. Robbie follows an unmistakable pattern. Paranoid about going back to jail, Robbie ices any of his cohorts who come into contact with the law. Jackie got busted thanks to a tip the cops squeezed out of Robbie’s low-life henchman Beaumount (Chris Tucker of “Rush Hour”). After Cherry gets Beaumont out of jail, Robbie kills Beaumont and hides the corpse in the trunk of an abandoned car. Robbie is so leery of his buddies that he brings in an old-time convicted bank robber, Lewis Gara (Robert De Niro of “Goodfellas”) and uses him for his latest scheme.

Once out of jail, Jackie cooperates with the ATF. She plans to bring in more of Robbie’s dough and be a part of a sting against him. She tell Robbie what the law wants her to do and then presents him with a deal that will get him the rest of his money. She’ll bring in all his money at once when the cops aren’t expecting it, and they’ll pull a switch before the fuzz could figure it out. Robbie is leery again, but eventually he agrees. Meanwhile, Jackie pulls a fast one not only on the cops but also Robbie and get away with a fortune in cold cash. She devises another plan with Max Cherry.

While there are no overlapping plots, “Jackie Brown” is Tarantino’s best job of writing. He lays the story out in clear, simple terms and never needlessly complicates the action as he did in “Pulp Fiction.” You won’t get lost in the middle of this action comedy. Of course, the language is as corrosive as all get out. The F-word is used at least 131 times, and the S-word is heard as many as 69 times. Tarantino’s fans will appreciate the usual profane, inane dialogue that he writes so well, especially Robbie’s instructions to Gara about how to unlock his car.

Written and directed by Tarantino, “Jackie Brown” is based on best-selling novelist Elmore Leonard’s novel “Rum Punch,” published in 1992. Surprisingly, Tarantino removed two major shoot-outs that add bang-bang action to Leonard’s book. Robbie wants to kill a Nazi skin head and heist his huge arsenal of firearms. What might have made for a distinctively “Pulp Fiction” moment, however, Tarantino scrapped. Tarantino also eliminated a gunfight between Nicolette and Robbie’s gunmen. Usually, Hollywood filmmakers go out of their way to beef up Leonard’s novel. Consider the horrendous misfire that Burt Reynolds produced from Leonard’s entertaining novel “Stick.” While “Stick” boasted the trademark Leonard dialogue (he c0-scripted), the movie featured violence that the book did not contain. Although Tarantino doesn’t capture the quirky Leonard dialogue, he does a better job of transferring “Rum Punch” to the screen than either Reynolds did with “Stick” or Barry Sonnenfeld with “Get Shorty.”

As Jackie Brown, busty Pam Grier is ideally cast. Originally written for an Ann-Margret type (in “Rum Punch” she was named Jackie Burke), Tarantino has changed the racial composition of the heroine but retains the spirit of Leonard’s heroine. “Jackie Brown” is one of those pictures where the heroine isn’t fresh out of a Playboy centerfold, though Grier has the obvious endowments. Instead, Tarantino uses her as a woman caught in the middle that wants and deserves to get out of a bad situation. Compared with previous Tarantino efforts, “Jackie Brown” represents a definite feminist turn of the screw.

The supporting cast is both diverse and fantastic. Although Robert Forster has almost vanished from the screen, his performance as Max Cherry is so good and straightforward—in a poker-faced way—that you forget that Forster is acting. Cherry may qualify as one of the few tough-guy male heroes who could serve as a role model. Meanwhile, Robert De Niro brings his customary thespian skill to his bank robber thug and delivers a fastidious performance that relies on his physical presence. Lastly, Chris Tucker has only a few moments on screen, but he is hilarious as motor-mouthed Beaumont, especially when Ordell makes him climb in the trunk of his car so he can kill him.

“Jackie Brown” lasts over two hours, but nothing obstructs the straight ahead plotting. If you’re counting, only three characters get shot, and Tarantino stages each shooting incident off-screen or is shown from an angle that prevents the viewer from seeing much gore and violence. A sex scene between De Niro and Fonda is staged without nudity, too. The scenes from a video about machine guns is outrageously sexist. Feminists will be pleased to know that Jackie triumphs over all the bad guys and Max Cherry is the best guy in the world.