MENACE TO THE HIERARCHY

By Greg Walton

Review Film Critic

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For a man who "gave birth to the 20th century" Jack the Ripper has

certainly been upstaged as a cinematic serial killer of late. It's not

enough to simply disembowel one's victims anymore, you have to accessorize

(hockey masks, razor blade gloves, etc.), you have to advertise (trading cards or

action figures are a nice touch), and you have to sequel-ize.  Heck, Dr.

Lecter has polished the cutlery three times with a bigger box office return

for each appearance!

When it comes to further adventures on the big screen, Jack has his work

cut out for him.  And probably the least likely filmmakers to bring him out

of retirement are the Hughes Brothers, whose black urban angst movies

"Menace II Society" and "Dead Presidents" took place worlds away from the

cobblestone streets of 19th century London.  But violence crosses racial

boundaries just as easily as eras, and their interpretation of the graphic

novel "From Hell" is less slasher film than Agatha Christie who-done-it.

Putting Johnny Depp on the trail of an erudite killer who's butchering a

circle of "unfortunates" (i.e. whores) in one of the city's less upscale

districts (i.e. the ghetto), the film is more intelligent than you'd expect

and more complex than it needs to be.

Depp is an opium-puffing inspector who digs through his drug-induced

visions for clues to find the killer.  Heather Graham is the only

good-looking hooker in all of London, who just happened to see something

she shouldn't and now walks around with a dotted line across her throat as

the Ripper's next targeted dissection experiment.  Their romance is

predictable Hollywood matchmaking, but the story itself takes a conspiracy

theory approach that blows the cobwebs off a 100-plus year old mystery: Who

is Jack the Ripper and was there a motive to his madness?

Johnny Depp played a strikingly similar role in "Sleepy Hollow," and should

have the lowdown on historical bad guys by now.  But unlike Tim Burton's

fairy tale, the tone of "From Hell" is grim, bleak, and generally

depressing (go figure), borrowing more from equally grim, bleak and

depressing films like "Seven" and "Silence of the Lambs."

Working from a graphic novel (ok, comic book) gives the Hughes Brothers a

broader color palette - outlining London against an apocalyptic

blood-red sky and adorning the Ripper's carriage with absinthe-green

lanterns that loom ominously through the fog.

There is an air of sickness about every scene, even those in broad

daylight, that threatens to spread its contagion to the characters in the

film; a

curious mix of traditional "Merchant-Ivory" repression with exclamations of

disturbing brutality.  And while that might not always be enjoyable it's

the equivalent of a filmmaking feat of strength - a fatalistic mystery that

impresses as it disgusts.

But the strength of that story also hobbles the film as a whole as the

Hughes Brothers drop in red herrings and nasty Cockney suspects by the

dozen, entangling themselves in plot elements that only begin to make sense

near the halfway mark.  Characters appear, disappear, and reappear like

scenes spliced in from the "Corky Romano" show playing next door.

The confusion may be intentional but it's not always successful.

Thankfully, Depp's performance as a perpetually stoned Sherlock Holmes

keeps everyone grounded, though he doesn't seem very challenged by the

material.

Even the worst mysteries compel the reader to reach a conclusion, to

disprove the lies and reveal the truth...even if it was blatantly obvious

on page 32.  For all its E.C. comics ambience and Grand Guignol nastiness

"From Hell" is merely a good mystery.  And that's plenty good enough.

Grade:  B

TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN

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Believe it or not, kids, there was a time when Bruce Willis didn't

flex his muscles and save the world on a bi-yearly basis in one blockbuster

or another.  There was a time when his smirk sent hearts aflutter, his

cockamamie charm brought in big ratings, and his forehead was much, much

smaller.  For those of you too young to remember Bruce's stint on

"Moonlighting," a show recognized for its witty banter, wacky humor, and

endless repeats (I swear they only made about 10 episodes, all shot through

a king-size fog filter to hide Cybill Shepard's wrinkles), you're in luck.

"Bandits," co-starring Billy Bob Thornton & Cate Blanchett, is a snapshot

of the pre-accidental action hero Bruce Willis.  A little tougher, a little

balder, yes, but there's a gleam in his eye that hasn't been there in quite

a while.  It's quite obvious he's having fun, and "Bandits" is a fun

picture - part "Odd Couple," part "Butch & Sundance." It's a road movie set

to a mix tape of oddball characters and a frequent laugh track.

Escaped cons Joe & Terry (Willis & Thornton) couldn't be more different.

Joe is a smooth, confident and instinctual ladies' man. Terry, on the other

hand, is nervous, frumpy, and convinced he's suffering from every malady in

the med school textbook.  But as partners they find success as the

"sleepover bandits" - spending the night at the home of the local bank

manager then forcing him or her to pop the vault first thing in the

morning.  No alarms, no tellers, nobody gets hurt.

But one hostage, Kate (Blanchett), decides to stick along for the ride.

And it isn't long before both boys have the hots for this frustrated

housewife - forming a love triangle of inept proportions.

"Bandits" tools along as a buddy comedy quite well during its first act,

with Willis and Thornton in perfect rhythm tossing barbs at one another.

Thornton gets most of the choice lines building off his character's

hyperactive hypochondria.  When Joe suggests they take their money and

retire to Mexico, Terry responds, "We can't do that.  You know I have

sanitation issues." And for a film by Barry Levinson ("Rainman," "Diner"),

a director who always encourage improvisation by his actors, "Bandits'"

script bounces tightly paced repartee like an old-school romantic comedy.

Which it is - partly -as an over-the-top reference to "It Happened One

Night" proves.  But there are also a lot of other elements which don't seem

to fit that the film pursues anyway in an awkward attempt to seem quirkier

than need be.  Levinson lays down a 60's existentialism to this outlaw

journey - full of free love, long hair and hitchhiking hippies - seeking to

add another level to the story.  But unlike rebel classics "Easy Rider" and

"Badlands," the outside world isn't really against Joe and Terry.  In fact,

the public loves them and the media glorifies them as harmless celebrity

criminals.

So what is "Bandits" trying to say?  I'm not sure.  But I know I would

have enjoyed the film more if it had stayed in the passing lane, rather

than puttering to an ending even Miss DiPesto could have seen a mile away.

When Willis and Thorton are swapping insults rather than swapping spit,

"Bandits" is fun diversion.

 Grade: B

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