The Badger Herald: ArtsEtc.: Nearly 88 reasons why not to see ‘88 Minutes’

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Nearly 88 reasons why not to see ‘88 Minutes’

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By Steve Lampiris
Monday, April 21, 2008 12:00 a.m.

4 Vote 0 Votes

When an American film starring American actors is seemingly released everywhere but America itself, it is a telltale sign of the film’s lousy content. Enter “88 Minutes,” the Al Pacino vehicle filmed in 2005 and released on DVD and theatrically in France as early as February 2007. Only now is it getting a theatrical release in its home country. Not to mention it’s been floating around torrents for at least 16 months.

Pacino (“Ocean’s Thirteen”) stars as Seattle resident Dr. Jack Gramm, a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI and college professor who receives an anonymous call stating that he has the titular amount of time before he dies.

The problem is that the call is placed on the eve of serial killer Jon Forster’s execution, who Gramm helped put away. Gramm immediately suspects that Forster — who is convinced that Gramm set him up in court — is the one behind the death threat. So Gramm must race against the clock to figure out whose deathly setup it is before it’s — dun, dun, dun — too late.

Pacino’s absolute debacle of a haircut can be seen as a microcosm of the whole film.

Everyone and (nearly) every word is a mess. The every-which-way hairdo Pacino employs is literally the collective cast in the movie. Pacino over-emotes every single scene, Alicia Witt (“Law and Order: CI”) is in a state of perpetual deer-in-the-headlights haze, and Amy Brenneman (“Judging Amy”) seems to alternately function on either stimulants or depressants, depending on the scene. Nothing is consistent.

It may not actually be Pacino’s fault for overacting in every scene, however. The near-constant expression on his face suggests that somewhere in his subconscious, even he knows the screenplay sucks and he’s just trying to save it by emphasizing every single word or sentence. Even Pacino asking FBI agents if they want a homemade cookie becomes a labored affair.

Witt, who plays Gramm’s teaching assistant Kim Cummings, is of special note, as her performance is one of the most unpredictable I’ve ever seen. In certain scenes she’s actually believable — usually scenes involving action or feelings supposedly tantamount to “suspense.” However, in other scenes it’s almost as if she’s reading cue cards.

William Forsythe (2007’s “Halloween”), who plays Special Agent Frank Parks, is the most robotic FBI agent in history, though that may be based upon reality, so perhaps that can’t be held against him.

If the main problem isn’t the acting (a tough call), it’s certainly the screenplay. Its main fault is that it tries to throw off the viewer with various candidates for the true caller, but it’s plainly obvious who it actually is one-third of the way through the film. And if you haven’t figured it out by the 80-minute mark, then you’re clearly not paying attention at all.

The dialogue is also questionable. Few scenes, if any, have characters reacting like actual people. Instead, most the script is cliched hackery. A great example of the fantastic dialogue is when Cummings asks Gramm if her ex-husband is dead, to which Gramm deadpans, “It doesn’t look good,” in the most matter-of-fact voice possible. There is simply no creativity in the script.

Even the characters’ names lack any real thought. With surnames like Gramm, Cummings, Douglas and Parks, it’s a wonder screenwriter Gary Scott Thompson (a writer for the first two “The Fast and the Furious” atrocities) even bothered with them at all. Thompson couldn’t come up with whiter names if he watched a “Chappelle’s Show” sketch.

Then there’s the questionable photography. The random close-ups of faces mid-conversation are something out of a soap opera parody. The squinty-eyed stares of almost every character in this straight-to-DVD-grade movie are something right out of a “Saturday Night Live” sketch. The film would have been pure genius had it been intended as a parody or satire of the modern suspense genre instead.

The nondescript music by Ed Shearmur also detracts. The bland “this is a suspense scene” muzak only helps to point out that the whole movie is shrouded in a fog of ineptitude.

And the sound effects that are supposed to evoke pulse-pounding thrills have only the effect of generating a chuckle here or there when the viewer asks, “Is this really a serious movie?”

Not every single thing about the movie is terrible, however. Neal McDonough (“Machine”), who plays Jon Forster, is actually quite believable. His portrayal of a scorned serial killer is perhaps the one saving grace of this whole fiasco.

Even if Pacino did this just for the paycheck, he probably couldn’t justify this disaster. Damn.

1/2 star out of 5

4 Comments | Leave a comment

Anonymous | April 21, 2008 3:04 PM | Reply
IP hash: 4a98afb0

Pacino (Ocean’s Thirteen)??? are you serious????? godfather, scarface, dog day afternoon, to name a few. and you choose ocean’s thirteen?????

Anonymous | April 21, 2008 4:12 PM | Reply
IP hash: 0e291b5d

He has to put down the most recent film he has been in jerk; Movie Reviews 101.

Anonymous | April 22, 2008 1:40 AM | Reply
IP hash: 2e009db8

Nice response at 4:12, Lapiris. You are a dillweed

Anonymous | April 24, 2008 4:31 PM | Reply
IP hash: 1e6745d2

The first guy clearly has never read a review of a film before. To the guy at 1:40 am: if you’re gonna call the author a dillweed at least spell his name right. And maybe actually give a reason.