Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Only now does it occur to me... HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE (2003)

Only now does it occur to me... that it's hard to imagine a more awkward turn-of-the-century buddy cop movie than HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE. Written and directed by Ron Shelton––a minor master of the modern sports pic (BULL DURHAM, COBB, TIN CUP, WHITE MEN CAN'T JUMP) and someone who, one year previous, managed to make an actually decent LAPD movie (DARK BLUE)––HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE serves up a true smörgåsbord of clumsy plotting, wooden gags, character actors trying their hardest, and stars who clearly hate each other. It's also the only buddy cop movie I can think of that spends at least 1/3 of its run-time making in-jokes about property values and the L.A. realty scene.

I could begin with Lou Diamond Phillips' baffling appearance as an undercover cop/trans prostitute:


a role that nevertheless ends with the audience muttering, "Well, in the eyes of history, it's still possible that LDP actually conducted himself less shamefully than Harrison Ford."

Which leads us to HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE's centerpiece: "Doesn't-Give-A-Shit Harrison Ford." And before you tell me that this is simply Harrison Ford's default state, might I remind you that this wasn't always true.

I suppose the reality is a little more nuanced than that. Perhaps this is better described as "Miserable Harrison Ford." And even though I am a Harrison Ford fan who grew up on Han Solo and Indiana Jones, there is something essentially and magnificently funny about seeing Ford undergo trials of pure agony for a paycheck he doesn't even need. However, I think we can all agree that this can't really be the backbone of a successful motion picture.

Take, for instance, this scene of L.A. cop Harrison Ford coming home after a long day of busting bad guys to drink some Scotch. It's basically a retread of his domestic scenes in BLADE RUNNER. And yet. The script calls for Ford to unwind with a weird little solo dance of relaxation. Obviously, Harrison Ford hates this.





Hates it with every fiber of his being. He's clearly restraining himself from murdering everyone on set. But Harrison: why aren't you back home then, in Wyoming? Shut away from this world of troublesome people and public places, hermetically sealed, just the way you like it, ya lovable misanthrope? Maybe he's just a masochist.

...As depicted in these sex scenes with THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING's Lena Olin.


"Bad cop, no doughnut?" HE HATES THIS.


Time for the blindfolds. Of course this is a set up for an excruciating, doughnut-devouring sexual climax:

HE IS SO UPSET RIGHT NOW. It's probably a violation of the Geneva Convention to put Harrison Ford through this much mental anguish. I'm trying to imagine Harrison Ford hosting SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE. Seems like he should've at this point, right? But he never did. I think that's because the strain of being zany in skits he wouldn't understand might just kill him. They probably should have saved Natalie Portman's "she lost the will to live" dumb STAR WARS death for Han Solo. Harrison Ford definitely could have pulled that off.

And we haven't even come to the matter of Ford's co-star, the yoga-teaching rookie cop Josh Hartnett.

Apparently they couldn't stand each other whatsoever, with Ford constantly calling Hartnett "punk" and Hartnett calling Ford an "old fart." They should have at least tried to put some of that antagonism in the movie! Instead poor Keith David is over here holding the bag, trying to act while they avoid eye contact.
 
Some of us are professionals

And whatever happened to Josh Hartnett? He was hot shit for a minute there. If you're not considering "Harrison Ford Revenge Plot" then you haven't been paying attention.

Hey, look, it's Bruce Greenwood!

It actively makes me sad to see him trying so hard. Hang it up, Bruce. Save that good shit for Atom Egoyan.

Also trying, Lolita Davidovich (RAISING CAIN, COBB, GODS AND MONSTERS)
who does pretty well for herself despite being saddled with a $20 wig. Oh, okay, maybe it's a $35 wig.

C'mon, Martin Landau? He was old. You producers made him get out of bed to be in a movie this bad? Shame on you.

I don't even have time to show you all the celebrity cameos, from Gladys Knight to Eric Idle to Andre 3000 to Robert Wagner. THE PLAYER, this ain't. Anyway. You were probably a lot happier before you learned about HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE, weren't you?

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