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Whacking Permalink Archive 2 January 2005 I've been drinking a lot of beer & muscat. I've also been fighting ISP problems which now appear to be solved. Hope you had a fun New Year celebration, or a peaceful lack thereof.
Straight from John Wayne's dead rectum I've had some bad movie experiences recently. First I sat through Evita, consoling myself with the thought that "it's all uphill from here". That was before I saw Wild Bill. Wild Bill is - quite simply - one of the biggest cinematic turds I've ever endured. Or tried to endure. I needed multiple attempts to get through it.
Now, magnify all that by a factor of ten, and you have Wild Bill. Jeff Bridges stars as wild west legend James Butler 'Wild Bill' Hickok. His performance consists largely of looking constipated while John Hurt rattles on with a lot of very dull narration. Pixar fans will be glad to hear that Jessie the Cowgirl makes an appearance. Except this time she's called Calamity Jane and is played by Ellen Barkin. I still can't decide which one of them gave a more realistic performance. The screenplay could have come from a website called "random western movie scene generator". Most scenes go something like this.... 1:
Wild Bill Shows up in some town, does a lot of drinking and shouting. Look, I have nothing against a brainless western or two. The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, Silverado and Tombstone are some of the best Saturday night beer-n-popcorn movies ever made. They were beautifully crafted pieces of entertainment. Wild Bill isn't. The director Walter Hill has never been a particularly intellectual film-maker. All his films are cliched macho-man actioners with zero-dimensional characters and wooden dialogue. In his early days, they worked: Southern Comfort in particular is a brilliant, unnerving riff on Deliverance. Wild Bill is a painful testament to just how badly Hill's abilities have eroded. Good points? It's shorter than Evita, and the fella who played the Cherokee chief in the opium-dream sequence was kinda cool n' scary, though he looked about as Cherokee as William Shatner. If
you spot this film on TV, give it a look and savour a true experience
in awful filmmaking.
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Imagine
every cringe-worthy Western genre cliche plonked into the one movie. Imagine
dialogue so bad it makes Steven Seagal sound like Sir Laurence Olivier.
Imagine a list of fine actors giving the worst performances of their careers.
Imagine a Natural Born Killers methodology in the crap cinematography,
the claustrophobic sound design, the annoying jump-cut editing. Imagine
that Mel Brooks had tried to turn Blazing Saddles into a serious
drama once he got to the editing room.
