Agent Augustus Gibbons (Samuel L. Jackson) and half of his old military unit have been targeted by unknown assailants. To discover who is responsible, Gibbon’s breaks Darius Stone (Ice Cube) out of prison, making him the new xXx. Working outside of the system, xXx must uncover a secret plot that is somehow connected to their old general, George Deckert (Willem Dafoe), who is now secretary of state.
The original xXx was advertised as a replacement for James Bond films. Bond is a 1950s-style film spy who has crawled along behind the times. xXx is the new kind of film spy. He’s now! He’s wow! He has a blaring modern soundtrack!
When Vin Diesel decided to skip the sequel, the powers-that-be decided some black stereotypes would sucker in an urban audience, and so we have xXx: State of the Union, an embarrassing, but sometimes exciting shoot’em-up.
The sequel is far more of a standard adventure film than its predecessor. Gone are the extreme sports, social anarchy, and counterculture attitude. Darius has a “bad attitude,” but that just means he’s grouchy all the time (demonstrated by a near omnipresent scowl). All his spy skills come from training by “The Man.” How is that more edgy than Bond? He’s your average ex-special-ops spy. Apparently, making the lead black was as counterculture as Revolution Studios was willing to go.
The plot is easy enough to understand and just as difficult to believe. The problems start in the first scene, where ninja-clad bad guys break into a secret, high security government installation to kidnap Gibbons. If I was an evil megalomaniac whose scheme requires I nab a guy who lives in a nice house in the suburbs, I’d plan from the start to go after him when he’s home having dinner, where breaking and entering wouldn’t require science-fiction floating cameras and special explosives. The story doesn’t make any more sense as it progresses and requires everyone to pause before doing anything to make little speeches or to utter glib one-liners. The villain only loses (I don’t consider it a spoiler to tell you that in a pop-spy-action picture, the villain loses) because he insists on chatting when he should just pull the trigger. To win the day, xXx enlists the aid of “the brothers,” who are all criminals. If black, then criminal. Even wealthy African American still steal on the side. I’m searching for the social statement this is making, but it is hurting by brain, so I’ll move on.
The dialog makes the plot look brilliant. No real people speak like these characters, which would be all right if they said something even slightly interesting or entertaining. They don’t. The worst lines are in the only character development scene in the film, where xXx tells his underwritten, but busty, love interest that he remembers how they used to do a lot of damage in the backseat of a car. xXx: State of the Union is not a place to look for wit. Luckily, most of the dialog is quickly deadened by explosions.
Ice Cube isn’t horrible as xXx, but his one-tone, one-expression style makes him better suited for a supporting role. Cleverly, he’s kept away from Samuel L. Jackson for a majority of the picture as the comparison isn’t kind to him. Jackson, who even at his worst (that would be…here) is better than a majority of actors, shows up for his paycheck, reads his lines, and is gone. Willem Dafoe plays his standard villain. Was this the height of clever casting? Dafoe is the villain. No kidding. Why not make him the helpful, but sinister-looking NSA agent and Scott Speedman the evil, but freshly handsome, mastermind? Just for a change of pace?
But this is an action flick, so the focus isn’t on the poor casting, painful dialog, non-existent character development, clichés, ludicrous plot, or the strange political landscape where a stand-in for President George W. Bush has shifted from far right to the middle. What is important is the adrenaline pumping action, and here, xXx: State of the Union does pretty well. It isn’t spectacular, but the pace is good, the stunts are wild, and plenty of things blow up. Those ninjas dropping in at the beginning didn’t make any sense, but they get a reasonable “cool” rating. And I give the film points for finding a new, violent, and amusing use for the launch catapult on an aircraft carrier. The camera is too close in many of the hand-to-hand combat scenes, but no worse than in the average Hollywood fight of recent years. If all you require are explosions to a pounding beat, xXx: State of the Union will fulfill your needs. If you want more, go elsewhere.
James Bond is safe for another year.
For a short film, The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello is a very long title. It is nearly impossible to fit nicely above a review, and tends to drop to a second line in a film festival program book. But then this is a short film which is long on character, plot, theme, and twisted beauty. Besides, it isn’t a needlessly drawn-out title. I can’t think of a better one to announce this twenty-six minute epic. It says, “Here is an old-style adventure yarn, though perhaps with an unexpected direction. There will be travel to secret, faraway lands filled with terrible and wonderful things.” And it says that our hero—whose names signifies accountancy, not mercenary warfare or bullwhip archaeology—may not be up to the challenge.
Of course it is those visuals that make the entire work so extraordinary. They are part shadow puppets, part object animation, and part CG. The 2-D silhouette characters move about in a gothic 3-D rendered world that reeks of malevolence. It is the perfect interpretation of the multiple genres that make up steampunk, combining the old with the new. But forget all the meaning and the way the style matches the story; it is simply a pleasure to look at the imagery. Director Anthony Lucas has created a hybrid that is nothing like its parents. You’ve never seen anything like The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello.
In a time of mega-corporate, 3-D spectaculars and low-rent, Internet flash pieces, Sharon Colman has taken the middle road. Her traditionally animated short, Badgered, is simple, yet elegant, with water-colored skies, and an amazingly expressive badger. It can be seen as a comical examination of troubling environmental and nuclear issues, or just a charming character study of a furry animal who wants nothing more than a nap. Either way, it’s bound to amuse.
A deftly constructed voyage inside the mind of an artist stuck in a meaningless job, Cashback is part satire of modern life, part worshipful tribute to the beauty of the female form. With a nearly hypnotic performance by Sean Biggerstaff, witty dialog, and a style born of conviction, both parts work far better than they have any right to.
