wisp
17-10-2008, 11:25 AM
Stay away from Max Payne -- you don't want to be near him when Judgment Day comes," a criminal warns in MAX PAYNE. Forget Judgment Day: You don't want to be near MAX PAYNE when Movie Night comes around either -- unless you're one of those people who likes to howl at pretentious, empty-headed shoot-'em-ups featuring slumming stars.
A demon threatens to take Mark Wahlberg under its wing in MAX PAYNE.
Inspired by a popular video game (there's the first warning sign) and slapped together from bits and pieces stolen from SIN CITY, CONSTANTINE and the MATRIX movies, MAX is beautifully photographed, laughably staged and about as dull as the Atari 2600 Pac-Man.
Mark Wahlberg, fresh from embarrassing himself in the much-reviled THE HAPPENING, has good reason to spend every one of the movie's 99 minutes glowering and sulking. He's playing Payne -- that's his name and also the driving force in his life -- a New York City cop who handles the cold-case files and has a personal stake in the job since the slayings of his wife and child remain unsolved after three years.
A little party-crashing leads to potential clues when Payne busts in on a soiree at the loft of a former "snitch" and meets Natasha (Olga Kurylenko), a hot number from Russia who is dressed for the evening in a tissue paper-thin red slip and thigh-high boots (in the dirty minds of screenwriters, Russian party girls are right up there with Swedish exchange students when it comes to hot-to-trot hotties). The heavy-breathing Natasha tries to work her charms on Payne, but he's only interested looking at the tattoo of a dark wing that she has on her forearm; that odd marking becomes even more intriguing when Natasha's body is found ripped apart in an alley the next morning.
Could this have something to do with all those jittery junkies who keep having hallucinations involving flying demons? As Sarah Palin would say, you betcha! But before the lumbering storyline reveals how Payne's late wife fits into the blood-spattered picture, director John Moore (who made the terrible remake of FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX a few years back) makes us sit through numerous, tedious gunfights to show us how well-versed he is in John Woo's back catalogue and how wholly incapable he is of duplicating Woo's electrifying style.
MAX also treats us to allegedly dramatic interludes involving Chris O'Donnell as a drug company executive who gets a mouthful of Payne's bad medicine and Beau Bridges (who staggers from scene to scene wearing a "what the hell am I doing here?" expression) as the head of security for a pharmaceutical giant. Both actors seem ashamed to be seen here, as well they should: This is the kind of movie in which the bad guy captures Payne, but puts off doing away with him so that he can first explain, in painstaking detail, the entire mystery.
Also on hand to dodge bullets and/or cash a quick check: Mila Kunis, who attempts to play a hard-as-nails Russian and only succeeds in looking like she's heading to a Halloween party dressed as Angelina Jolie; Chris "Ludacris" Bridges as an internal affairs investigator; Kate Burton, as a CEO who doesn't do much more than tool around in a limo and look uneasy in her fur coat; and Donal Logue, as Max's former partner.
One expression is all Mark Wahlberg allows himself in MAX PAYNE.
Whenever the story fails to hold your interest, you can always wonder what is up with the weather in Manhattan. MAX supposedly unfolds over the course of one week, but meteorology has apparently gone mad: One day, it's snowing to beat the band, and the next it's pouring down rain, with no trace of slush in sight. Payne and friends must have adjusted to these changing conditions, however: In one unintentionally hilarious sequence, Payne has a fierce argument with someone while the two of them are standing in the middle of what looks like a monsoon.
If you're a student of Norse mythology, you might get a couple of chuckles out of the movie's frequent inclusion of such terms as Aesir, Ragnarok and valkyrie. Surprisingly, Payne never picks up a hammer to send his many enemies to Valhalla, as Thor might have done; screenwriter Beau Thorne isn't that imaginative. But gamers who'd rather be home playing "Max Payne" than watching his big-screen counterpart can take comfort in one thing: The movie could only have been worse if it had been directed by Uwe Boll.
http://www.mlive.com/movies/index.ssf/2008/10/max_payne_minimally_entertaini.html
But gamers who'd rather be home playing "Max Payne" than watching his big-screen counterpart can take comfort in one thing: The movie could only have been worse if it had been directed by Uwe Boll.
It doesn't sound good..i some how knew they would bugger this one up
2nd Review
Woe, in fact, to the moviegoer who shows up at all. Turning video games into movies may be one way for studios to coax teenagers away from their laptops, but this time around, the results are miserable, in every sense of the word.
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/reviews/la-et-max17-2008oct17,0,2583653.story
Why lord why do they always stuff these movies up
A demon threatens to take Mark Wahlberg under its wing in MAX PAYNE.
Inspired by a popular video game (there's the first warning sign) and slapped together from bits and pieces stolen from SIN CITY, CONSTANTINE and the MATRIX movies, MAX is beautifully photographed, laughably staged and about as dull as the Atari 2600 Pac-Man.
Mark Wahlberg, fresh from embarrassing himself in the much-reviled THE HAPPENING, has good reason to spend every one of the movie's 99 minutes glowering and sulking. He's playing Payne -- that's his name and also the driving force in his life -- a New York City cop who handles the cold-case files and has a personal stake in the job since the slayings of his wife and child remain unsolved after three years.
A little party-crashing leads to potential clues when Payne busts in on a soiree at the loft of a former "snitch" and meets Natasha (Olga Kurylenko), a hot number from Russia who is dressed for the evening in a tissue paper-thin red slip and thigh-high boots (in the dirty minds of screenwriters, Russian party girls are right up there with Swedish exchange students when it comes to hot-to-trot hotties). The heavy-breathing Natasha tries to work her charms on Payne, but he's only interested looking at the tattoo of a dark wing that she has on her forearm; that odd marking becomes even more intriguing when Natasha's body is found ripped apart in an alley the next morning.
Could this have something to do with all those jittery junkies who keep having hallucinations involving flying demons? As Sarah Palin would say, you betcha! But before the lumbering storyline reveals how Payne's late wife fits into the blood-spattered picture, director John Moore (who made the terrible remake of FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX a few years back) makes us sit through numerous, tedious gunfights to show us how well-versed he is in John Woo's back catalogue and how wholly incapable he is of duplicating Woo's electrifying style.
MAX also treats us to allegedly dramatic interludes involving Chris O'Donnell as a drug company executive who gets a mouthful of Payne's bad medicine and Beau Bridges (who staggers from scene to scene wearing a "what the hell am I doing here?" expression) as the head of security for a pharmaceutical giant. Both actors seem ashamed to be seen here, as well they should: This is the kind of movie in which the bad guy captures Payne, but puts off doing away with him so that he can first explain, in painstaking detail, the entire mystery.
Also on hand to dodge bullets and/or cash a quick check: Mila Kunis, who attempts to play a hard-as-nails Russian and only succeeds in looking like she's heading to a Halloween party dressed as Angelina Jolie; Chris "Ludacris" Bridges as an internal affairs investigator; Kate Burton, as a CEO who doesn't do much more than tool around in a limo and look uneasy in her fur coat; and Donal Logue, as Max's former partner.
One expression is all Mark Wahlberg allows himself in MAX PAYNE.
Whenever the story fails to hold your interest, you can always wonder what is up with the weather in Manhattan. MAX supposedly unfolds over the course of one week, but meteorology has apparently gone mad: One day, it's snowing to beat the band, and the next it's pouring down rain, with no trace of slush in sight. Payne and friends must have adjusted to these changing conditions, however: In one unintentionally hilarious sequence, Payne has a fierce argument with someone while the two of them are standing in the middle of what looks like a monsoon.
If you're a student of Norse mythology, you might get a couple of chuckles out of the movie's frequent inclusion of such terms as Aesir, Ragnarok and valkyrie. Surprisingly, Payne never picks up a hammer to send his many enemies to Valhalla, as Thor might have done; screenwriter Beau Thorne isn't that imaginative. But gamers who'd rather be home playing "Max Payne" than watching his big-screen counterpart can take comfort in one thing: The movie could only have been worse if it had been directed by Uwe Boll.
http://www.mlive.com/movies/index.ssf/2008/10/max_payne_minimally_entertaini.html
But gamers who'd rather be home playing "Max Payne" than watching his big-screen counterpart can take comfort in one thing: The movie could only have been worse if it had been directed by Uwe Boll.
It doesn't sound good..i some how knew they would bugger this one up
2nd Review
Woe, in fact, to the moviegoer who shows up at all. Turning video games into movies may be one way for studios to coax teenagers away from their laptops, but this time around, the results are miserable, in every sense of the word.
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/reviews/la-et-max17-2008oct17,0,2583653.story
Why lord why do they always stuff these movies up