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tam1MI
Holy Cardinal and Five Star General of the Righteous Knighthood of Jabootu
USA
558 Posts |
 Posted - 03/18/2006 : 01:23:44 AM
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“PAPARAZZI”
Reviewed by S. Rogers, aka tam1MI
Let us now turn our attention to that vast treasure trove of Jabootu-iana known as the Vigilante Movie. The Vigilante Movie has a history that stretches back almost to the beginnings of cinema itself. Naturally, with so many entries into the field of the Vigilante Movie having been made over the years, the Cinematic Bell Curve has had its effect. In other words, there is a plethora of downright awful Vigilante Movies out there to be skewered, of which today’s offering is a ripe example. But before we eviscerate this offering on the altar of the Great Horned One, a bit of history is in order.
The Vigilante Movie began its life as part of the Western genre of film. A typical Western Vigilante Movie had a very recognizable plot: A law-abiding, peace-loving man is going about his business, living his life, when from out of nowhere lowlife miscreants descend upon his happy home and commit some outrage upon his family (or, in some movies, him alone) – an outrage so vile, so terrible, that the only just punishment possible for these monsters is death. Our Hero lives in a wild, dangerous territory where the law was ineffectual at best, so if he wants to see justice done, he will have to do it himself. So he reluctantly straps on his six-shooters and, one by one, hunts down the varmints what done him wrong. When the last varmint is dead, the movie is over.
For a Vigilante Movie to work, it had to adhere to one inviolable rule – the Hero must at all times be presented as better than, and morally superior to, the varmints he runs to ground. Oh, sure, he spends most of the movie killing people, but whereas the bad guys in a Vigilante Movie clearly committed mayhem for fun and games, the hero killed cleanly because, well, A Man’s Gotta Do What A Man’s Gotta Do. He took up the path of violence only reluctantly, after all other options had proved futile. It was a simple formula that was repeated over and over throughout the years because basically, it worked.
But then disaster, in the way of the 1970’s, struck. As any Western movie fan will tell you, the 1970’s was the decade where the Western film died a horrible, painful death. Oh, sure, a few Westerns still got produced, but for the most part, they basically, in a word, sucked. By the time HEAVEN’S GATE rolled around to flop so big it brought down an entire studio, it was like the final nails being driven into the coffin. The Western, the most quintessentially American of cinematic genres, was pretty much dead. (As an aside, the 1970’s was also the era in which that other quintessentially American cinematic art form, the movie musical, went down for the count. And some people call this decade a Golden Age of American moviemaking. Seriously).
You would have thought the Vigilante Movie, deprived of the genre it had thrived in, would also go the way of the dodo bird. If you did, you thought wrong. Because round about 1974, somebody came up with the genius idea of grafting the Viglante Movie onto a new subgenre of movie becoming popular in the 70’s – the Urban Paranoia Movie. The result, of course, was the seminal movie DEATH WISH.
In retrospect, it is striking how faithfully DEATH WISH adhered to the time-honored structure of the Vigilante Movie. A law-abiding, peace-loving man (bleeding-heart liberal architect Paul Kersey) is going about his business, living his life, when from out of nowhere lowlife miscreants (home invaders) descend upon his happy home and commit an outrage upon his family so vile, so terrible that the only appropriate punishment for it is death (kill his wife and rape his daughter). Because Our Hero lives in a wild, dangerous territory where the law is ineffectual at best (New York City), if he wants to see justice done, he will have to do it himself. Of course, here is where DEATH WISH diverges from the formula a bit. Instead of going after the bandits who attack his family, Kersey instead goes after ANYBODY he comes across who commits crime. The movie actually casts Kersey’s actions in an ambiguous light – yes, he’s got a good reason to go over the edge, yes, he’s removing the scum from the city streets – but is he really a hero? Or is he just as much a danger as the “scum” he claims he is ridding the city of? The movies’ memorable final scene crystallizes this sense of unease. Kersey, basically told to leave New York and never come back, is at the baggage carousel in the airport of his new city when he sees a bunch of toughs hassling someone. He points at them in the classic “bang bang” mode, then squints one eye, sighting along his finger. Freeze frame.
The ambiguity of the original DEATH WISH was completely wiped out from it’s four(!) sequels, not to mention the horde of imitators that came after it. Instead, it was back to A Man’s Gotta Do territory for them. But the one rule all these movies tried to adhere to was the aforementioned inviolable rule: the hero always had to come off looking better than the villains. Sometimes “looking better” was interpreted literally – villians in post-DEATH WISH Vigilante Movies sported every sort of revolting-looking tattoo and bodily scarification modern technology could come up with. Sometimes they were ‘merely’ exceptionally ugly. Other times these movies flirted with outright racist imagery, as in the DEATH WISH film where Charles Bronson takes out a black gangbanger toting a ‘ghetto blaster’ from which exceptionally loud music is emitting. (Ever considerate of the neighbors, Bronson first blows up the radio before dispatching the gangbanger).
Yet another way Vigilante Movies adhered to the ‘hero must always look better’ rule was by ratcheting up the level of violence against the hapless (invariably female) victims of the initial outrage to almost snuff film levels. The gruesome fate of Paul Kersey’s daughter in DEATH WISH II is an illustrative example. Already raped to catatonia in the first movie, in the second she is gang raped, then flung from a second story window onto the sharpened spikes of a wrought iron fence to slowly die. While this worked to establish the requisite superiority of the hero, it also introduced a disturbing note of misogyny into these films. No matter. By the mid-1980’s, movie theatres and video stores were simply teeming with flicks set in the urban jungle showing Men Doing What They Hadda Do. And since then, there has been nary a year where at least one Vigilante Movie has not stunk up graced a theatre or (more likely) Blockbuster near you.
And so to our current offering.
Right out of the gate, PAPARAZZI suffers from major, major problems. Mainly because, while it tries to adhere to the Vigilante Movie formula, it’s premise fatally wounds it. Once again, let’s recite the formula and see how it fits. A law-abiding, peace-loving man (movie star Bo Laramie) is going about his business, living his life, when from out of nowhere lowlife miscreants (paparazzi) descend upon his happy home and commit an outrage upon his family (they take pictures) so vile, so terrible that -
THEY TAKE PICTURES?!?!
Yes, ladies and gentleman, this is the monumental outrage which pushes our otherwise peaceful hero over the line and causes him to descend with righteous fury upon the scum who Done Him Wrong. Okay, granted, they’re EMBARASSING pictures, but still, it hardly seems to be the kind of mind-warping tragedy that would send an otherwise sane person spiraling into vigilante-ism. It’s kind of like the end of the movie VANISHING POINT, where you see the bulldozers being moved into place and the snipers taking up their positions and all you can think is, “They’re gonna EXECUTE the hero for SPEEDING? Are you KIDDING me?”. (For those who have never seen VANISHING POINT, the answers to the previous two questions are “Yes” and “No”). In other words, the movie hobbles itself from the git-go with a premise so ridiculous, so stupid, so absolutely lunatic that the movie itself would have to be work of near genius in order to even begin to rescue itself from the smothering embrace of Jabootu.
And this movie is no work of near genius.
All this, and I haven’t even popped the flick into the VCR. Never fear, it goes downhill from here. For example, two of the previews on the tape are for ALIEN VS. PREDATOR and PAULY SHORE IS DEAD. Not even to the opening credits yet, and already the stench of Jabootu lies thick in the air…
Finally, the opening credits. A good chance for us to see who will be disgracingthemselves appearing in this piece of dreck movie. Oh look, a shot of L.A. from the air. That’s original (not). A few quick shots, and then we are at the star-studded Hollywood opening of Our Hero’s new film, ADRENALINE FORCE. (Some ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT reporter is at the mike commenting on the doings. I’ve never heard of him before in my life, but he is the first of many celebrity cameo appearances in this film. Oh, goody! More nominees for the coveted Embarrassed Actor Award!). Naturally, this being a bad Vigilante Movie, both the hero and his film sport names you will most assuredly never see in real life. Ridiculous names/titles nearly always portend the presence of the Horned One hovering around a production, and this is no exception. Ladies and gentleman… Bo Laramie. So besides saddling itself with an idiotic premise, this flick also has as its lead character a guy with an absolutely snicker-inducing moniker.
Another note on the heroes name. A friend of mine, when told the name of the lead character, immediately exclaimed, “Bo Laramie…. MEL GIBSON!!!” and promptly renamed him “Mel, er, BO”. And she’s right. The name “Bo Laramie” does contain a faint echo of “Mel Gibson”. It’s well known that the Mel-ster, besides acting as Executive Producer, had a great deal of input into the creation of PAPARAZZI. After a while (i.e., about 30 seconds into the film), the viewer of this film gets the strong impression that “Bo Laramie” is supposed to be a thinly – very thinly – fictionalized version of Gibson himself. (And indeed, Gibson, in promoting the movie, continually pointed out that many scenes in the movie were based on his own experiences with paparazzi). This creates a bit of discomfort in the viewer, mainly because if the real-life Mel Gibson is anything like the clown we see in this movie, he should really be locked up so as not to cause a threat to society. That or else he’s got a damn good basis for a defamation of character suit. But I digress. Back to the movie. (Rats!).
So it’s the opening of Mel, er, BO’s movie, ADRENALINE FORCE. Cut to the interior of Our Hero’s limo as it is pulling up to the red carpet. And we see that the title role of the stupidly-named Bo Laramie is being played by the talented but wasted in the role Cole Hauser. (Connoisseurs of Jabootu-iana will realize here that “talented but wasted in the role” is a genetic curse Mr. Hauser must bear, as his father, Wings Hauser, suffered a similar fate in films and TV shows too numerous to count. Back in the day, the senior Mr. Hauser appeared in several Vigilante Movies, although generally his characters were on the receiving end of the Hero’s Righteous Wrath). Hanging on Bo’s arm is his pretty wife (Robin Tunney, wasted in the role), and bouncing about the interior of the limo is his cute-as-a-button young son. Cute-as-a-Button is full of all sorts of precocious questions, which Bo good-humoredly answers, just so we’ll know he’s a Good Father. Wifey sends Bo out onto the red carpet with a final kiss, and cameras click madly as he makes his way up to the theatre, shaking hands with fans along the way. There follows several quick shots of Bo smiling fixedly as the cameras continue clicking… and clicking… and clicking… and people shout “Bo! Bo! Mel, er, BO!” from all directions. After a while, though, Bo turns and passes a weary hand over his eyes. Ah, yes, the stress-filled, grinding life of your average movie star. Isn’t it just awful? The heart bleeds.
Cut to a beautiful beach. Bo is jogging along, while a voiceover informs us of his innermost thoughts. “And six months ago, I couldn’t get arrested with a fresh corpse and a smoking gun”, he ruminates. Considering what is about to transpire in this movie, I’d suggest the L.A. police start looking for bullet-riddled corpses, stat. Then there’s more blather, mostly about how Bo intends to not let adulation “get to him” because it’s “not real”. You know, to reassure us that good ol’ Mel – er, BO, will continue to be a regular guy and not a narcissistic twit like all those OTHER movie stars. That way we’ll still sympathize with him when he opens a can of whoop-ass on the slimey paparazzi. Then it’s on to the lame bit about tribes in Africa who believe that cameras steal your soul. Yeesh, not five minutes into the movie and already they are trotting out that old wheeze. “After last night”, he brightly concludes, “it’s a wonder I have any left.” Oh, yeah, the life of a rich, successful, happily married movie star is just one big, unending downer.
Just then, a gaggle of hot young chicks enters the frame jogging in the opposite direction. They all excitedly squeal upon seeing Laramie and, after they run past him, all turn around to get a look his retreating form. But of course. Apparently, middle-aged, schlumpy people (or even young schlumpy people), are absolutely unheard of in Southern California, the minute someone looks like they might lower the Hot Quotient of the area, they are all set adrift on icebergs and left to die of exposure. Or something. “It’s an illusion”, Bo reminds himself. “It’s not real”. I’ll say. There was probably about a million dollars worth of plastic surgery in that gaggle alone.
Anyway, the scene ends with our hero favoring us with still more of his lame thoughts, and then the music starts pumping and we cut to a shot of him tooling down the road in a classic Chevy Malibu convertible. At last, a bit of realism enters the movie. I can totally see a guy fresh to stardom running right out and buying a cool classic car. However, this little bit of realism is totally drowned out by the unreality of the fact that the L.A. street Laramie is taking a spin on is TOTALLY EMPTY. First thing in the morning, i.e., during rush hour. Oh, yeah, THAT’D happen. Oh, and the chorus of the song that plays over this sequence is “I won’t go Hollywood”. Okay, we GET it! He plans to remain a regular guy! Quit with the lame songs already!
So Bo drives through the security gate to his fancy new ranch house. (A ranch house, see, cause he’s a regular guy, not like those narcissistic twits who buy big mansions. Geez louise, could this movie lay it on any more thick?). He has some cutesy by-play with Cute-as-a-Button (cause he’s such a Good Father), then enters the kitchen for some more by-play, this time with Loving Wife (cause he’s such a Good Husband). Then it’s off to the Malibu Country Mart for some more scenes establishing what a swell guy Bo Laramie is. (And also establishing the happy, idyllic life that will be shattered when the vile miscreants of the title commit their foul outrages – okay, they take pictures, can we please just roll with this?). Anyway, the store is staffed by a nice teenage girl named Sierra and a Golden Retriever named Rusty. (The dog gets this huge close-up. I thought for sure it was going to be important to the plot, but no, it never shows up again. Doggy nepotism, perhaps? Does Mel own a dog?).
Anyway, here is where we get our first intimations of the snake that lurks at the heart of this particular Garden of Eden. As Bo is chatting with nice Sierra, a giggly female fan (who identifies herself as “Emily from Ohio” like she’s some sort of walking singles ad), approaches him and asks him to autograph her copy of PAPARAZZI magazine. Yes, not only is it the title of the movie, not only is it the profession of the vile miscreants, but it’s also the name of a tabloid FEATURED WITHIN THE VERY MOVIE WE ARE WATCHING! Oh, wow, I am absolutely overwhelmed by the massive amounts of creativity that went into the making of this film. (Well, massive amounts of SOMETHING went into the making of this film, I can tell you that).
“Where do I sign” asks our hero, and, (I am not making this up), Emily from Ohio burbles, “Right across THE CROTCH would be great!”. The camera then pans to the cover of the tabloid she is proffering, which features a shot of a buck-naked Bo and his buck-naked wife standing by a swimming pool (black boxes and black dots cover the naughty bits). Little Cute-as-a-Button stands off to the side. ‘LARAMIE NAKED!!!” blares the headline, and, underneath it, ‘GET SHORTY”.
This scene is just all kinds of wrong. First of all, I simply cannot believe that a self-identified fan would ever do something this crass to the object of her adulation. (Note to Mel: if this is one of the “based on my real experiences” stuff you added to the movie, I’d suggest you step up to a better class of fan). And secondly, there is no way a tabloid like what the one in the movie is supposed to be would put nude pictures on it’s cover. The PROMISE of nude pictures, yes. But the actual pictures – they’d be buried in the magazine, so you’d have to flip through it to find them. That way, hopefully, you wouldn’t find them by the time you got up to the cash register and therefore would end up buying the magazine in order to get the goods. Or so I’ve been told, ahem ahem.
However, if my description “somebody nude by a pool with young child nearby” rings a bell here, it should. This picture was clearly – and I mean CLEARLY – meant to parallel those notorious photos of a topless Sarah Ferguson getting her toes sucked by a Texas millionaire while her young daughter stood to the side a couple of feet away. This will not be the first time the movie deliberately echoes a famous incident in this way. And take my word for it, this is the least objectionable way they do it. Later, it’s like they burst through the bottom of the barrel and just keep on drilling.
So Bo gives Emily the Skank Ho from Ohio her requested autograph(!), then collects up little Cute-as-a-Button and leaves the store, deeply troubled. Cut to a shot of Bo & his wife driving along in their GMC. (He’s a regular guy, he buys his own groceries, AND he buys American cars. What a saint!). Mrs. Bo is staring at the nasty picture on the front of the tabloid, deeply upset. "We’re NAKED”, she says. “Can they do this?” (And if you guessed that Bo’s response to this plaint is “They already did”, give yourself a pat on the back). Mrs. Bo is also upset that her young son also made the cover of this rag. “There’s so many creeps out there”, she worries, and once again asks, “Is this legal?”. Bo manfully says he will find out. You know, I’m thinking that a really simple, low-cost solution to the whole “I want to be able to cavort naked by the pool without making the cover of a tabloid” problem would be to install a privacy fence, but that’s just me. I’m also wondering why the Laramies went to the bother of installing a security gate at the front of the driveway if they weren’t going to bother to build a fence or wall around the perimeter of their property. I mean, no fence or wall would kind of defeat the purpose of the security gate. So people can’t drive their cars onto the property, whoop-de-doo. Apparently they can just park their car on the street and stroll right on to the grounds, no problem.
Cut to the soccer game which little Cute-as-a-Button is going to participate in. Before he takes the field Bo gives him one final bit of fatherly advice, “Remember son, the important thing is to have fun”. Yeah, Bo is just the swellest, greatest, most wonderfulest dad in the whole wide world. Gag. As Cute participates in the game, Bo notices a guy leaning against a tree snapping off pictures with what has to be the loudest 35mm camera ever invented (something every paparazzi that subsequently appears in this film seems to be cursed with, otherwise, their annoying presence couldn’t advertise itself and make them easy targets for Bo’s wrath when it finally breaks upon their heads). Knitting his noble brows together and setting his manly jaw, Laramie goes over to confront the troublemaker. The Villain of the Piece has made the scene.
Now, of course this guy is going to turn out to be a paparazzi, you know it, I know it, and, more to the point, Bo knows it. (Owwwww, the pun!). I kept thinking during this scene, though, how does he know for sure this guy is a paparazzi? I mean, the dude is just standing around taking pictures, how does Laramie know he isn’t some other soccer dad who happens to have a heavy photography hobby? Or is a photographer himself? The answer is, of course, that he doesn’t. Once again, a movie character proves to have amazing powers of ESP, able to intuit a conclusion from absurdly minuscule bits of evidence.
So Bo confronts the guy snapping pictures, who turns out to be Tom Sizemore, another talented actor totally wasted in this film. Mr. Sizemore is playing a character who I shall herinafter refer to as the Head Sleazy Guy. Right now, though, Head Sleazy guy is polite and friendly when Bo confronts him (this won’t last long). Bo tells HSG that he has “no right” to take pictures of his son without his consent, HSG points out that, in point of fact, in the eyes of the law he has every right to take pictures of anybody he wants in a public place. Bo is having none of that, though, so HSG takes it upon himself to offer him a bit of unsolicited career advice. “Look, things have changed. You’re somebody now, you better get used to this.” Bo insists that HSG not take pictures of his son, and HSG finally says, “Okay, fine. You got it, Bo.” And begins to walk away.
Now guess what happens next. Just guess. You will not in a million gazillion years guess what happens next. You will have absolutely no idea. I’m not kidding. Just give it up. You cannot possibly figure out what happens next.
Oh. You guessed, “Head Sleazy Guy does not in fact go away, but simply moves somewhere else and continues to take pictures”. Well, yeah, okay, you guessed right. But I betcha you never guessed, “And Bo is so incensed by this demonstration of bad faith he walks right over and pops Head Sleazy Guy right in the face!”. Oh, you guessed that too. Okay, okay, well this one you just couldn’t possibly get – it turns out that the Head Sleazy Guy has SET BO UP so that when Bo pops him right in the face, he slides open the door of the van he was standing in front of to reveal his posse of fellow photographers all snapping away! Oh, you got that one too. Well, dang.
And of course, this is yet ANOTHER ludicrous notion this movie expects us to swallow wholesale. Yes, we are expected to believe that photographers who could literally make millions off a single exclusive picture would throw that all away and instead travel around in posses. Yeah, that’d happen. Later on in the film it is revealed that Head Sleazy Guy and the three guys who make up his posse (henceforth known as the Sleazettes) all work for the titular tabloid, which is even MORE dumb. So this mag routinely sends out FOUR photographers to take a picture of some kid playing soccer? Riiiiiight. (It should also be noted that the photographers and the tabloid all spend inordinate amounts of time covering Bo Laramie, and ONLY Bo Laramie. It’s as if no other celebrities exist anywhere. Nope, for PAPARAZZI magazine, it’s all Bo, all the time. Not only that, this movie expects us to believe that this trashy mag is actually taken seriously by vast swathes of the movie-watching public – it’s heavily implied that Bo’s career begins to suffer from all the negative stories it is publishing. It would be one thing if the movie suggested that the negative stories were picked up and amplified by other, more respectable news outlets, but no. It’s just one down-market tabloid devoting itself to trashing one newly-minted movie star).
The scene ends with Head Sleazy Guy getting off a few taunts in Laramie’s direction as Bo is led off by another soccer dad who doesn’t want things to escalate. Cut to a shot of the boat that Head Sleazy Guy lives aboard. (Yet another leitmotif of the movie – while Bo lives in a nice respectable ranch house, all his antagonists live in domiciles that just scream ‘Pretentious Git Within’. Because, you know, they use their ill-gotten gains for Evil, while Bo uses his goodly-gotten gains for Good, or something). Head Sleazy Guy is watching a news report on TV which informs us that Bo was arrested and tried for his assault and battery on HSG, and will have to attend anger management counseling as part of a plea agreement. (It also shows videotape of Bo punching out HSG, a real goof since all of the photographers were shown carrying still cameras). Anyway, the news report goes on to state that HSG is suing Bo over the incident, demanding $500,000 in damages and a public apology. (This becomes another recurring theme in the movie. It’s strongly suggested that HSG gains most of his filthy lucre by enticing celebrities into punching him in the face and then suing their pants off. If you’re thinking, “Wait, the dude can make a million bucks off a single picture, why is he going around getting people to punch him in the face so he can sue for half that?”, well, you’re not alone. If you are also wondering, “If this guy makes all his money by getting celebrities to punch him in the face, wouldn’t he be rather notorious? Wouldn’t celebrities the world over be advised by their agents, ‘Whatever you do, don’t punch this guy in the face! He LIVES for that!’?, you would also not be alone. Just accept it. IITS). It’s also at this point that we learn that Head Sleazy Guy has a name – Rex Harper. Feh. He’s still gonna be Head Sleazy Guy to me.
Another stupid celebrity cameo – Juliana from the E! Channel is interviewing Bo, who lays out his side of the story of the Punch In The Face Incident. She brandishes a copy of the soon-to-be-ubiquitous PAPARAZZI magazine with a cover photo featuring the Punch Heard Round the World and the headline “Laramie: Out of Control!”. Head Sleazy Guy, watching this, takes offense at Bo’s characterization of him as “a low-class parasite” and flips the bird at the TV. Gasp! The monster! Who will stop his hideous reign of terror? Who, I ask you? The very stones cry out for justice! “Laramie”, Our Villian sneers, “I’m going to destroy your life and eat your soul. And I Can’t. Wait. To. Do. It!”. (No, seriously, that’s exactly how he says it). It’s war, I tell you! War!
Cut to a shot of a fancy skyscraper. Laramie is meeting with his female anger management consultant, who informs him, “you’re lucky you’re not in jail”. Which doesn’t really s me as a good way to win the trust of the person you are supposed to be treating, but there ya go. “You’re carrying belief systems from a previous life, that don’t fit your new reality.” Oh, wow, it’s exact same thing that Head Sleazy Guy said to him at the soccer game! There’s only one conclusion to make here – Anger Management Lady is in league with the Devil. She is not to be listened to or believed in any way. Imagine, suggesting that someone in the public eye may have to comport himself with a bit more circumspection than your Average Joe! What a ridiculous notion! (Oh, and by the way, did I mention that Bo is sporting a pair of cowboy boots in this scene and a cornpone accent straight out of ‘HeeHaw’? Lest we all forget he’s just a Regular Guy and all). “You don’t mess with a man’s family” he says, all John Wayne-like. Which would be impressive until you realize that he classifies “taking pictures” as “messing with a man’s family”. I shudder to think of the kind of beat-down he intends to inflict on any school yearbook photographer foolish enough to snap a candid photo of Cute-as-a-Button.
Cue the next stupid celebrity cameo (Around here is about where the really famous people start showing up. Besides being really dumb, these cameos also serve to throw the audience out of what little screen reality it had built up). On the set of his new movie, Bo is picking up his prop pistol when who should stroll up but Vince Vaughan, waving a copy of PAPARAZZI and joshing with him about the story within that claims that he jetted off to Switzerland to – get this – obtain a penile enhancement to surprise his wife with on her birthday. Vaughan and Hauser work hard to make this scene lighthearted and joking, but once again, the whole crassness of the behavior sinks the enterprise. The script doesn’t even have Vaughan deliver lines to the effect of, “Can you BELIEVE these guys?” And then there is the fact that, once again, the script is asking us to believe that the entirety of the movie business breathlessly tracks the celebrity coverage within a tabloid that is the cinematic equivalent of STAR magazine. What the rest of the world flips through, snickering, while waiting in line at the grocery store is apparently intensively read cover-to-cover by the denizens of Hollywood.
Back on the Yacht of Sleaze, HSG is paying off a couple of Mexican guys who apparently contrived to snatch Laramie’s garbage. “Americanos loco!” one exclaims as he walks off, counting his money. Oh, yeah, you better believe we are, we actually pay good money to see movies like PAPARAZZI. Cue scenes of HSG pawing through the trash. (And if this isn’t clunk-you-over-the-head obvious enough a visual metaphor for you, the way he does so is to dump it out over the floor and literally wallow in it. Yeah, I’m at a loss as to what the symbolism of that scene could mean. Not).
Cut to a strip club. Skeezy strippers writhe around on stage, while lady customers sip drinks at the bar (in a strip club?!). Over in the corner, Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes hang out a table, having a few drinks and hanging out. At this point, it should be useful to identify each of the Sleazettes. There’s a guy who dresses like he belongs to Hell’s Angels and drives a motorcycle. (Henceforth known as Motorcycle Guy Sleazette). There’s a nebbishy looking British guy. (Henceforth known as British Sleazette). And there is Daniel Baldwin. (Henceforth known as Daniel Baldwin). Anyway, British Sleazette walks over to where two attractive young ladies are hanging out at the bar (in a STRIP CLUB?!) and launches his best pickup line at one of them, thusly: “Nice legs. What time are they open?”. Amazingly, this does not elicit a Bo Laramie-style Punch-In-The-Face, it does, however, earn British Sleazette the unmitigated scorn of the target of this ‘clever repartee’. (This is all done to establish British Sleazette as a ‘nasty guy’, utterly deserving of the fate Laramie visits on him later in the film. Frankly, I don’t think it works. Yeah, the dude is crass, but then so is everybody else who seems to wander on screen in this film, even people who are supposed to be friends of the hero. He may be thoroughly deserving of a punch in the face, but not the Righteous Wrath of the Unleashed Vigilante).
Anyway, British Sleazette rejoins his comrades, who are talking shop. Most specifically, they are bemoaning the inroads made in their business by the internet and the demand by some stars that they get approval over paparazzi photos. Daniel Baldwin especially is up in arms. “That’s bull____!”, he exclaims. “The public wants raw and real, and that’s what we give them”. This is apparently supposed to be the movie’s big “You’re complicit in this destruction! You subsidize these jerks by buying those magazines!” moment. Strangely enough, the movie never mentions those celebrities who were widely believed/known to plant stories in those self-same tabloids or who arranged to be “caught” in a “candid moment” in order to generate more publicity about themselves (Madonna Louise Ciccone, I’m looking at you). Apparently celebrities are exempt here. British Sleazette quietly nurses his drink during all this, disconsolate.
Upon seeing that British Sleazette has totally struck out with the pretty girl at the bar (in a STRIP CLUB?!), Head Sleazy Guy moves in on her to show him how it’s done. Here follows some utterly inane dialogue wherein it transpires that HSG is a bit of a celebrity too – “You think we wouldn’t recognize the guy who siphoned half a million dollars off of Bo Laramie?”, the pretty girl’s obviously drunken companion slurs. Yeah, a two-second shot on a couple of news shows and suddenly everybody’s recognizing this dude on sight. I’ve rolled with this movie so much, I’m halfway down the block. Anyway, Drunken Gal continues on by saying stuff like, “I think tabloids are FUN” and “I think you’re cute”, and generally establishing herself as a sleaze who will give it away to anybody. Pretty Girl, however, snaps, ‘I think your pictures HURT PEOPLE.” So, basically, Head Sleazy Guy can pick up either an inebriated gal who thinks he’s cute and will probably put out (and considering what the movie tells us occurs later in the evening, that would be a plus), or a sober gal with morals and backbone. Naturally, he goes for the sober gal, because, as we all know, Paparazzi like nothing better than to corrupt the morals of basically nice girls. HSG unloads the biggest load of bull I have ever heard, justifying his profession to disapproving Sober Gal (something about providing a Window of Reality into the Unreal Lives of celebrities, which the public can then choose to read or not read as they see fit, blah blah blah, I mean really, couldn’t he just say, “Hey, you can’t beat the pay”?), then ends it up with the killer question, ‘Have YOU ever bought a tabloid?”. When Sober Gal replies, “Guilty as charged”, he then goes on to say, “Don’t feel guilty, guilty is BAD”, does some sort of weird bit with his kewl-guy sunglasses, and basically sweeps her off her feet with his oily charms. (Of course, his offer of taking her to a star-studded opening and after party probably helps).
So off Head Sleazy Guy, Sober Gal and the Sleazettes(!) go to the party. (Okay, fellow possessors of ovaries out there, I ask you: Would YOU go off ANYWHERE with a guy who hangs around with guys who think that “Nice legs… when are they open?” is a witty come-on line? I mean, please). And who should be at the party but Our Hero and His Adoring Wife and Little Cute-as-a-Button! (They take a YOUNGSTER to a party that goes until all hours of the night? What kind of parents are they?). British Sleazette walks up to Bo and greets him warmly, and when Bo politely responds he launches into a story about “last time I saw you it was at the park and you had this BEAUTIFUL bird on your lap”. (For those not familiar with Brit-slang, bird=girl). He says this right in front of Bo’s wife, who reacts with distress to this blatant lie. Apparently, now he’s trying to score himself some filthy lucre in the Get-Punched-In-The-Face sweepstakes. He rejoins his comrades outside, reports the success of the ‘upset-the-wife’ assignment, and he and the other photographers all run off, cameras at the ready. “Road trip” Daniel Baldwin announces happily, while Sober Girl, disappointed, asks, “Aren’t we going in?”. (Note to Sober Girl: about this time, you should realize that you have been had. This is what you do. Walk away from these guys, go to the nearest phone, call a taxi, and GO HOME. If you do not do this, you may indeed be Sober, but what you are more is Really Really Stupid).
Cut to the Laramies, driving home at a sedate pace in their family sedan (the THIRD car we see that Bo owns, by the way, and still he is buying American! Detroit must LOVE this guy!) on a suspiciously empty street. Apparently British Sleazettes line of bull has affected Loving Wife, she is all pouty. Wifey and Bo talk it out while little Cute plays in the back seat. She ends by whining, “I guess it’s all just new to me”. They smile at each other, marital crisis averted.
Well, this happy state of affairs can’t last long, so two seconds later a car and two SUV’s come roaring up, two on either side of Bo’s car and one behind. It is, of course, Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes (with Sober Girl in tow). They are blasting away with their noisy cameras, flash bulbs a-poppin’, and bellowing witticisms likem, “Hey, Bo! Big shot!”. And suddenly the city street they are on seems to have turned into a six-lane highway and suddenly Bo and his pursuers are going about 100 miles per hour. Lesson number 62 in the Celebrity Driving Manual: when in a hazardous driving situation where bright flashing lights are impeding your ability to see the road clearly, SPEED UP! (During all this Bo also TURNS AROUND in his seat to talk to frightened Cute. Smart move, Bo).
Hmmm, now let’s see. A small passenger car, travelling at high speed. Other cars full of paparazzi in hot pursuit. Whatever could they be trying to remind us of, I think. And then the nauseating reality hits me – THEY’RE RIPPING OFF PRINCESS DIANA’S DEATH. Bottom of the barrel, hit. And, oh, this also explains why little Cute-As-A-Bug was out waaayyy past his bedtime at that party. It’s so that he could be in the car when the Horrible Tragedy ensues. (Hello, plot point, my old friend). Bottom of the barrel, burst through, center of the Earth, here we come.
So, anyway, somehow the follow car gets ahead of Bo’s car, which allows him to bring the chase to a screeching halt by means of bringing his car to a screeching halt. In the middle of an intersection (the highway has turned back into a city street, apparently). Three guesses as to what happens next. If you guessed, “another vehicle going through the intersection smacks right into Bo’s car”, give yourself a gold star. Yes, a pickup truck does the honors and t-bones Bo’s car. KER-SMASH.
The paparazzi cars screech to a halt (nobody t-bones them), and the photographers all pile out, stunned. They all stare at the shattered remains of Bo’s car. And there is good reason for them to be so slack-jawed. Let’s just say that Mr. Laramie’s insurance rates just went significantly up. The car is absolutely totaled. It looks awful. One can only imagine the condition of its occupants. But this is Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes we are talking about, so naturally they all run back to their various cars and grab their cameras. Sober Girl is watching all this, gasping in horror. So, it only now just occurred to her that’s she’s fallen in with a bunch of sleazebags? She may be Sober, but man, she is really, really Dumb.
Head Sleazy Guy, Motorcycle Sleazette and Daniel Baldwin begin to climb all over the car, taking pictures of the unconscious occupants within (Daniel Baldwin even reaches through the window of the car in order to adjust Wifey’s clothing for a more sexy shot). British Sleazette forgoes an opportunity to get pictures in order to make a 911 call and report the accident. But of course, his civic duty done, he then begins to snap off pictures, although in a half-hearted way. We then see a rather affecting shot. While HSG and the Sleazettes dance around Bo’s car, snapping away, we see in the foreground the pickup truck that hit him, it’s driver half-in half-out of the cab, mortally wounded, utterly ignored.
Head Sleazy Guy, in the midst of taking pictures, notices that Sober Girl has gotten out of the car and is watching the proceedings, obviously frightened. He breaks off from taking pictures and walks her back to the car, talking soothingly to her. (A rather gentlemanly thing to do, actually, but of course it will turn out he has Evil Ulterior Motives for this). Then he runs back to snap off a few more pictures – just in time for Bo to come to enough to spot His Sleaziness. The Outrage has been committed! It is time for the Ass Kicking to commence!
Cut to the hospital, where Bo stands watch by the bed of little Cute, who is (naturally) in a coma. (Bad Movie Rule #46: All youngsters who are hurt in any way, shape, or form are required to slip into comas so their parents can agonize at their bedside). A doctor enters and informs Our Hero that his wife has had to have her spleen removed. (Bad Movie Rule #47: In any accident/attack that befalls a family, at least one member of said family must have his/her spleen removed as a result. It’s the most expendable organ. Or something). Bo, of course, is completely unharmed. Man, these movie stars have amazing healing powers. The guy smacks his head on a steering wheel hard enough to knock himself out, and he doesn’t even get concussed, or even sport so much as a bruise. But of course. If Our Hero actually got hurt, it would cramp his style when the time came to Unleash His Righteous Wrath. Therefore, he escapes from an awful accident completely unscathed.
The doctor walks out, and as he opens the door, wouldn’t you know it, a photographer with the requisite Big Noisy Camera With Blinding Flash snaps a photo of him by his son’s beside. So nobody has bothered to set up any sort of security on the floor of this hospital, or even informed the front desk to not let any photographers near the rooms? What kind of a cheapass hospital is this, anyway? (Answer: the kind in a bad movie where it is necessary to let paparazzi roam the halls at will, even when the hospital knows they have a celebrity within and might want to lay down some rules as to who gains access to the place and who does not). I have to admit, though, the aggrieved look that Cole Hauser adopts for this, the final outrage of the evening, is a very good piece of acting. You really get the feeling the guy has hit the end of his rope.
Back to the nice ranch house. Bo sits alone in his son’s bedroom. Bo walks alone on the beach. Bo broods alone in his living room. Flashes of the accident and Head Sleazy Guy’s face as he lifts the camera – you know, the stuff we all saw not five minutes previous to this – appear on the screen. WE GET IT, ALREADY! HE’S PISSED! NOW, GET TO THE RIGHTEOUS WRATH BIT! Sheesh, if there’s anything I hate, it’s a Bad Vigilante Movie with pretensions to artiness.
But, first, we must go even further in establishing Head Sleazy Guy’s sleaziness. On the Yacht of Sleaze, we hear what is undeniably the sound of a female having – um, how can I phrase this delicately – um, a REALLY REALLY Good Time In Bed. As in “Scream, Scratch and Bite The Pillow” Good Time. It turns out to be a videotape that HSG is playing for Sober Girl’s benefit. Apparently, after the accident, he took her back to the Yacht, and, as our British friends would say, shagged her brains out (what few she possessed, that is). And videotaped the proceedings. Nothing like viewing a horrific car crash to get the ol’ amorous juices flowing. But wait, there’s more! “You must have put something in my wine!” she screeches. Yes, Head Sleazy Guy is so low down he gives nice girls drugs to get them all hot and bothered, and then takes advantage of them in their inebriated state. (It must have been one heck of a slow acting drug – the only time she was drinking was earlier in the evening, and literally hours passed before he got her back to the Yacht of Sleaze to Have His Way With Her). Which again begs the question – HSG had an already quite willing young lady he could have picked up at the bar and had all sorts of fun with, if that was his intent. So why go to all the bother of picking up someone who is not really all that willing and drugging her up? Oh, yeah right, because he’s EEEVIL.
And it gets better. Head Sleazy Guy informs Sober Girl that if she even thinks of going to the police with what she knows about the accident, “not only will I attach that to every porno site on the internet, I will make sure it finds it’s way to your father’s desk at the State Department”. Um, I’m not quite sure how delivering up proof of a daughter’s rape to a powerful State official is going to immunize HSG from trouble, but oh, well, okay. I suppose it’s some sort of shame blackmail or something. What’s even more obviously stupid about this scene is that once again we see Character ESP at play. This line implies that HSG took Sober Girl back to his yacht, sexed her up and taped it as a way to get blackmail material to make sure she doesn’t talk to the police. But the only time he could have drugged her is at the bar, which was hours before the accident occurred. So, did HSG psychically intuit that he and his buddies would cause a near-fatal crash that night and drop some Spanish Fly in her drink as an insurance policy? Or was he planning on sexing her up from the git-go and decided to flip the ‘on’ switch on the video tape recorder to cover his tracks later at the yacht? And if the second supposition is the case, if all he wanted was to ‘get some’, why he didn’t he pick up the girl who was WILLING instead of drugging and raping the one who was not? (The sordid implication here is that HSG gets off on raping women. Which, considering the effort they went to make this guy the dregs of humanity, would fit). HSG finishes up this parade of vileness by ordering Sober Girl to “get out of my goddamn house!”. (Uh, dude, it’s a boat).
Back at the hospital, Loving Wife has recovered enough to stand agonizing vigil alongside Bo at the bedside of their still comatose son. Because it’s just so heartrending, doncha know. Bo steps out for a moment to confer with a police detective who has been investigating his claim that the paparazzi caused the accident. The police lieutenant is played by Dennis Farina, yet another entrant in the Embarassed Actor Sweepstakes this movie appears to be running. He informs Our Beleaguered Hero that he brought in each of the paparazzi one by one and they all told the same story – they innocently drove up on the accident, called 911, and never left until help arrived. Bo calls BS on this, but Detective Dennis sadly informs him that unless he can find another witness to confirm Bo’s story, there’s nothing he can do (the driver of the other vehicle having died during the night without regaining consciousness).
And I call BS on this. Firstly, simple accident reconstruction would confirm that the photographers didn’t drive up on the scene – it was clearly shown that the three cars slammed on their brakes hard enough to leave skid marks – in FRONT of where Bo’s car was located. The marks would be noted and entered into any accident report. Secondly, there’s an easy way to see if the paparazzi were telling the truth with their oh-so-coordinated story – CONFISCATE THEIR BLOODY FILM! A quick check would reveal pictures of Bo and his wife and kid in the car on the same roll and before the pictures they took of the Laramies passed out in the car. And thirdly, Detective Dennis DOES have another witness to what occurred that night – Mrs. Laramie, who was in the car and can confirm the truth of Bo’s account. Does she not count? And, finally, aren’t all major intersections in LA equipped with those annoying traffic cameras that take pictures every two seconds or whatever? Can’t the police department check those to resolve the conflicts in the accounts of the accident?
Well, no they can’t. Because if they did, the movie would be missing one of the vital ingredients of the Vigilante Movie – law enforcement that either can’t, or won’t, bring justice to the perpetrators of the Outrage Against The Hero’s Family. (It was so much easier in Westerns, when you could set the movie in wild, unsettled territory beyond the reach of the law). So therefore it has to be set up that there is absolutely nothing the police can do to help Laramie. And apparently the method the makers of this film chose for making the forces of the law helpless to aid Our Hero is “Because They Are Completely Incompetent”.
Detective Dennis ends by assuring Bo he will continue to work the case, regardless. Yeah, whatever, dude, just don’t shoot your own ear off while you are at it. Later, Bo and his wife leave the hospital by dint of walking out the front door, and, of course, a herd of paparazzi is there snapping pictures and yelling questions. Dude, I’ve got two words for you –PARKING GARAGE. Or, if that isn’t available, two more – BACK DOOR. And PRESS AGENT. And BODYGUARD. Well, okay, that’s more than two words. But it’s kind of hard to work up any sympathy for a guy who is supposed to be accosted at every turn by obnoxious photographers against his will when he does absolutely nothing to avoid them.
Next, we see Bo in his lawyers office. They are advising him against suing Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes on the grounds that “it would just cause more publicity”. I’m no lawyer, but that ss me as one of the stupidest reasons for a celebrity to not sue someone I’ve ever heard. Has it occurred to the lawyer that maybe publicity in this case is GOOD thing, that if Bo initiates and wins a high-profile lawsuit against these guys it could send a message to other paparazzi to back off? Of course, it doesn’t occur to him, because it CAN’T occur to him. Once again, the movie is establishing that the forces of the law (in this case, civil lawyers) cannot offer any aid or succor to Our Hero, thereby forcing him to take matters into his own hands. And once again, the way the filmmakers choose to make these particular Forces of the Law helpless to aid Bo is “Because They Are Completely Incompetent”. Well, Bo might not be able to do anything about the fact that the police in this movie are nincompoops, but he can certainly do something about his idiot lawyers. Two words, Bo. SECOND OPINION. Perhaps even followed by NEW REPRESENTATION.
But no, Bo does none of that, because that would mean that the forces of logic might enter this picture and bring it to an end without a spasm of bloodshed. And Bo doesn’t want to be deprived of his Righteous Ass-Kicking. So onward we slog. “We’ve got bigger problems”, one of the lawyer informs him. Apparently Bo has to go back to work on his new film, pronto, or the bond company will sue him and his production company for noncompletion. And here, we see the final Outrage that will drive Bo Laramie to Wreak His Revenge. It was bad enough the villains went after his wife and kid, but now their antics have threatened his holiest of holies, his sanctum sanctorum - his STARDOM! He might lose his role in ‘Adrenaline Force 2’! He might have to accept work in films where his name is listed BELOW THE TITLE! This cannot stand! It’s war, I tell you! WAR!
So Bo goes back to work on his movie. We cut to action scene he is filming, inserted, I suspect, to keep the audience from falling asleep. (This scene includes the myth beloved of all filmmakers, good and bad – The Actor Who Does His Own Stunts). The director calls the film wrapped for the day and Bo ambles off towards the catering table, where a grip stands with his nose buried in – you guessed it – PAPARAZZI magazine. (Does nobody in this film read PEOPLE?). He hands the mag over to Bo when Bo inquires what he is reading., and Bo sees the blaring headline, “LARAMIE’S WIFE ON DRUGS”. The cover picture shows Wifey being wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair, a huge blooper since we saw her walk out with her husband not two scenes earlier. (And a REALLY huge blooper when you consider that a swarm of photographers recorded the event for posterity). At this point, a big black guy named Reggie (Finally! One other character besides Bo who’s name we get right off!) comes over and introduces himself as the security person who will be acting as Bo’s bodyguard while he is on set. It was the studio’s idea. Of course it was the studio’s idea, it’s not like Numbskull Bo Laramie has come up with any ounce-of-prevention ideas.
Later, Bo stops at the Malibu Super Mart (you know, the place where Rusty the Dog Who Only Appears in One Scene hangs out). Nice Girl Sierra greets him cheerfully and then, automatically adds, “No soccer with Zach this morning?” Realizing her horrible, gauche mistake (the first person in the film to do this), she bursts into tears and begins to apologize incoherently to Bo. And you will not guess in a million years what he does to comfort her. Not in a million years. Look, I know you got me on the soccer game one, but THIS one you will just never, ever, ever guess. Not ever, not never.
Oh. You guessed, “Enfolds her in a comforting, yet chaste embrace.” Oh, well, okay, that’s what he does. But I bet you didn’t figure out that at that VERY MOMENT –
Okay, so you guessed, “A paparazzi snaps a bunch of pictures of the intimate moment”. Well, okay, but you didn’t guess that it was Motorcycle Sleazette! Hah! I got you there! (You also probably didn’t guess that Motorcycle Sleazette was using a flash attachment. In broad daylight. Because doing that would be stupid. But that’s what he does. Also, once again he is equipped with a camera that can be heard three counties over).
By this point Laramie has had enough. He marches out into the parking lot to confront Motorcycle Sleazette in the parking lot, who responds to his threatening, “Hey!” with , “What are you going to do? Hit me too?”. Hmmm… apparently Motorcycle Sleazette has some heretofore hidden debating talents. He does have a good point there. Bo recognizes this, and so settles for climbing into his SUV and driving off. Motorcycle Sleazette, having won the day so to speak, climbs on his bike and also rides off. Bo drives along, taking out his frustration by punching out the interior of his SUV(!), and finally stops by a scenic overlook (read: cliff) to cool down. You know, I am constantly amazed in these movies how it is that these dangerous dropoffs alongside a road never seem to have safety rails on them. Is there some sort of safety rail shortage in California? Some sort of obscure law? (“Any dropoff of 15 feet or more must not have a safety rail so as to facilitate the demise of evil accident-causing paparazzi”).
So Bo decides to waste a few seconds of screen time getting the phone number for his anger management counselor (what, she didn’t have a business card?). This done, he puts his SUV in gear and pulls out of the scenic overlook –
right into the path of Motorcycle Sleazette. What are the odds? Motorcycle Sleazette loses control of his bike and it skids wildly –
right off the cliff. Safety rails, people, I’m tellin’ ya. SAFETY RAILS.
Bo goes running to the edge of the precipice, where Motorcycle Sleazette is dangling by one foot. Motorcycle Sleazette is screaming, crying and begging for help, obviously terrified. Now, this is supposed to make us despise Motorcycle Sleazette (“What a WUSS!”). But really, I can pretty much be assured that if I were dangling over the side of a hundred foot drop, I would not only be screaming, crying and begging for help, I would probably be soiling myself into the bargain. This sort of thing is SCARY, and it bugs me that so many movies write off a perfectly natural reaction to something that terrifying as contemptible weakness. But there we are. Bo, being the hero and therefore obligated to rescue Motorcycle Sleazette, does so. He grabs hold of Motorcycle Sleazette’s hand and starts pulling him up to safety.
Now, at this point, Motorcycle Sleazette has several options of what to say. He could say, “Oh, thank you for saving me, I am forever in your debt, I’ll never take another nasty picture of you again”. Or he could simply say, “Thanks, buddy. Catch ya later”. Or, and I know this is a radical idea, he could just keep his fat mouth shut and let Bo finish rescuing him. All of them viable options. But, instead, going for the I’m-Even-Stupider-Than-Bo-Laramie Prize, he says this:
“You think I whupped your ass before, I’m gonna own you now, Slick!”
So Bo drops him off the cliff.
I repeat, he DROPS HIM OFF THE CLIFF.
For saying something stupid.
I am to take it that the Wreaking of Righteous Wrath has begun. But strangely enough, this doesn’t come off so much as Wreaking Righteous Wrath as Cold-Blooded Murder. (And to add insult to injury, Bo, by not looking where he was going, caused the accident that ended in Motorcycle Sleazette dangling off the cliff in the first place). But this is what we get, so let’s give a big cheer for our Noble Hero! His quest for justice has begun!
Yippie-ki-yay.
Cut to a really artsy sequence of Bo driving around various mountain roads (all of them with cliff drop-offs and none of them with safety rails). This is supposed to indicate the turmoil in his soul as he tries to come to grips with what he has just done. And it completely doesn’t come off. For one thing, the sequence is boring. And for another, Cole Hauser has a look about him that seems to indicate not so much turmoil as, “Hey, that was COOL.” This impression is reinforced by the next scene, where Bo is talking to his anger management therapist. He tells her that he is starting to feel “much more in control of my anger” (yeah, dropping people off cliffs will do that for you. I guess. Whatever). The therapist gives Bo a notebook in which she instructs him to record “events that prompted your anger, and what to did to deal with them in the moment”. (“Journal Entry #1: Incident: Paparazzi took picture of me and lissome teenager hugging in store. How I dealt with it: Dropped him off cliff”). She tells him that “this will help put a face on your problems”. He replies, all portentious, “My problems already have faces”. See, that statement is really meaningful because it refers to Head Sleazy Guy and the remaining Sleazettes, and once he kills them off causes them to cease and desist, then all his anger will be gone! Why, it beats stupid old therapy any day! Cliffs ahoy!
Walking out, Bo throws away the ‘anger journal’ in the nearest trash receptacle. Because A Man’s Gotta Go What A Man’s Gotta Do, and that don’t include any pansy-weeny writing about his feelings in a journal. Dropping people off cliffs is so much more therapeutic. And sitting in the lobby is Mel Gibson himself, in yet another of the stupid celebrity cameos that infest this movie. Mel favors Bo with a “You go, Bo” look and the scene is (thankfully) over.
Back at the scene of the cliff-dropping, a crane is hauling Motorcycle Sleazette’s bike up from the depths of the canyon. Three cops stand around jawboning about not much of anything. This is to highlight yet another celebrity cameo – yes, it’s Tim Thomerson himself opining on the recently departed Motorcycle Sleazette! And here is the difference between being the hero and being a minor villain in this movie. The hero gets Mel Gibson giving him encouraging looks in a fancy lobby, the minor villain gets Dollman delivering his eulogy on the side of a cliff. Up walks Detective Dennis, who is checking into the “motorcycle accident” because he heard the victim’s name on the radio and made the connection to the case he is working on. You know, the one he couldn’t solve because he is COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT. Don’t trip over the corpse, Detective.
At the Laramie residence, Bo is attending to Wifey, still in recovery. Who is spending some time out by the pool. Which STILL hasn’t had a privacy fence built around it. Because, after all, why invest money you have plenty of in an affordable privacy fence to keep out nosey paparazzi when you can simply drop them off cliffs? In the woods behind the house, British Sleazette lurks and takes pictures of Wifey as Bo go inside to answer the phone.
It’s Detective Dennis, calling to give Bo the skinny on the discovery of Motorcycle Sleazette’s dead body at the bottom of a cliff. Bo plays dumb (no problem there). Hanging up, Detective Dennis notices something on the ground. It’s pen embossed with the words “Big Log Productions” (Bo’s production company). He stares at it, thinking hard. (Okay, Detective, listen carefully. What you are holding is a PEN. It’s like a pencil, except it writes with ink instead of lead. You hold it in your hand, with thumb on one side of the barrel and your forefinger and middle finger on the other…).
Back at the Laramie casa, Bo emerges back out by the pool just in time for Wifey to scream with horror upon catching sight of British Sleazette. (“Oh my Gawd! He got my BAD SIDE!” Whatever). Bo immediately takes off running towards British Sleazette, who snaps a couple of pictures of his enraged face and then skedaddles. Bo is left snorting in anger while his wife gasps at the horror of it all. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Cut to a shot of paper dispensers full of copies of PAPARAZZI magazine. Pan up to a lovely old building, which is apparently the offices of the magazine. British Sleazette enters the office, a spring in his step (outrunning enraged celebrities, it’s the new Pilates!). He greets the receptionist cheerfully, then enters a cubicle and confers with head Sleazy Guy and Daniel Baldwin. Apparently he has been sent to retrieve any pictures that Motorcycle Sleazette took before his untimely encounter with the cliff, and, by dint of a bogus Power-of-Attorney, has returned successful in his mission. The Three Sleazes gather around a computer and check out the pictures that were on the memory chip in Motorcycle Sleazette’s camera. (Blooper Alert: the reason a camera like the ones paparazzi carry around makes so much noise is because of the automatic film forwarder/rewinder attached to it. It’s so photographers can quickly click off a reel without having to use their thumb to manually forward the film to the next frame every time. In other words WHAT DAMN MEMORY CHIP? It was a FILM CAMERA, NOT A DIGITAL ONE!). BING! Up pops the picture of Nice Girl Sierra enfolded in Bo’s manly embrace. “Even in death they can’t shut him up”, gloats Head Sleazy Guy, and immediately makes arrangements with a female employee for the incriminating photo to make the next cover of PAPARAZZI.
Back on the set of Bo’s film, Detective Dennis has stopped by with some information on the backgrounds of Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes, to wit: they’re sleazy. British Sleazette, he tells Bo, is still on probation for possession of illegal firearms. (PLOT POINT! PLOT POINT!). Head Sleazy Guy has “slimed his way out of an attempted rape charge”. So the icky implication of his earlier encounter with Sober Girl is made explicit – the guy gets off on drugging and raping women. Charming. Now, all this stuff we are now hearing about Head Sleazy Guy is basically just redundant – we’ve already seen how low he can go. So the real purpose of this scene is to raise the What-a-Scumbag quotient on British Sleazette. Which can only mean one thing. He’s next up to be the recipient of Bo’s patented Drop-‘Em-Off-Cliffs Anger Management Therapy. Dude, if I were you I wouldn’t be going for any long drives anytime soon.
Detective Dennis ends his little spiel with an admonition to Bo to censor any cell phone conversations he might have. They’re hackable, he explains. Bo takes this under advisement. Later, at the hospital, Wifey & Bo stroll down a corridor to Cute’s bedside to put in more Agonizing duty. Lovely Wife admits to Bo that she doesn’t feel like Cute will ever “feel secure” in L.A. – she’s yearning to go back to their unspoiled simple life in Montana. Suddenly, she stops, staring at a magazine rack placed helpfully in the middle of the corridor. (Must be real fun to watch the medical teams try to maneuver around the thing if they get a Code Blue). Sure enough, there, prominently displayed, is a copy of PAPARAZZI magazine with the picture of Bo and Nice Girl Sierra in a clinch on the cover. ‘LARAMIE LEAVES PILL POPPING WIFE FOR 16 YEAR OLD!” screams the headline. “Drug Addict Wife Gets the Boot”, says the sub-headline, over numerous pictures of Lovely Wife swallowing pills. Wifey draws away from Bo, glares at him, and stalks off. Bo stands there, grinding his manly jaw while meditating on quick shots of British Sleazette from when he snapped those pics by the pool (you know, about 5 minutes previous in the movie. I swear, the makers of this thing thought their target audience was afflicted with ADD).
Cut to a parking garage, where British Sleazette is happily strolling out to this car after a long day of doing whatever it is he does when he is not trying ruin Bo Laramie’s life. (Since Head Sleazy Guy and the Sleazettes apparently direct every waking minute of their lives towards that end, it’s difficult to see what else they ever do. You have to wonder what they did before Bo became famous and gave purpose and direction to their formerly meaningless existence’s). From a nearby vehicle, Bo watches him intently, and then begins to surreptitiously follow British Sleazette as he heads out.
And here the movie sidles up to the edge of a really interesting idea, which of course it ignores completely in it’s rush to be a big dumb dopey Vigilante Movie. How interesting would it be, to show a celebrity beleaguered by intrusive paparazzi that turns the tables on them and begins stalking them? Suddenly, they are the ones who find their privacy invaded, they are the ones who can’t go anywhere without being watched and photographed, they find themselves walking in the shoes they have forced onto so many famous people…
Ooops, no, but wait. We are stuck in the awful movie known as PAPARAZZI, so of course the idea is never considered. Instead, we get a major continuity error as Bo arrives on his movie set BEFORE the guy he was following! He calls up bodyguard Reggie on his cell phone. Cut to British Sleazette in his car, listening in. Isn’t that just an amazing coincidence, not two minutes earlier Detective Dennis was warning Bo that his cell phone could get hacked, and here we see that British Sleazette has hacked it! And he’s also had extra sleaze expositorily added on to his Sleazette-ness. He has SO got an appointment with the Grim Reaper in his immediate future. Ooooh, and it turns out that Bo DELIBERATELY MADE THE CALL (something about setting up a lunch meeting), so British Sleazette could overhear the whole thing! Let’s hope his life insurance is up to date.
So, British Sleazette plants a small buttonhole camera on his person (NOW they think of this stuff?), the better to sneak around the set and take embarrassing pictures of Bo. Since it’s hot out, he removes his suit jacket (PLOT POINT!), and because he is apparently something of a neatnik, he hangs it carefully on the hook in the back seat of his car (PLOT POINT!). As he tries to sneak on to the set and gets confronted by Reggie the Bodyguard, Bo sneaks out to his car and plants a prop gun in the pocket of his suit jacket. Because propmasters on multibazillion dollar movies are notoriously careless with their charges, they just leave firearms out where any Tom, Dick, or Bo can pick them up at any time. Because the insurance companies that underwrite said productions wouldn’t have a single problem with a weapon growing legs and walking out off the set, possibly to be used later in the commission of a crime, which would open up said production to criminal charges and expensive lawsuits. Oh, yeah, I’m buying this one.
So, anyway, British Sleazette gets thrown off the set and drives off, apparently oblivious to the fact that the suit jacket he neatly hung up but a few minutes before has been MOVED(!), and Bo climbs into his SUV and follows him at a discreet distance. While driving, he picks up the cell phone (you know, the one that has been HACKED), calls 911, and reports that a guy in a blue metallic station wagon waving a gun around. This is accomplished by means of wild overacting and wild yelling. For a second I thought Mr. Hauser was channeling his the spirit of his dad back when he played such roles as “Drug-Crazed Lunatic #2”.
At this point, the police receiving this call have several options. They can wait for more verification on this report before they take any more action (after all, they have only received one phone call on this, the location is on a busy city street, surely there are other eyewitnesses). They could send out a patrol car to surreptitiously check out the situation and take it from there. They could even check the cameras that are supposed to be at all the stop lights to see what the exact situation is. Instead they go for Option D, which consists of –
sending out on All Points Bulletin and sending out what appears to be every patrol car in L.A. to take out this danger. No, seriously, I am not making this up.
The dispatcher, after running the plates on British Sleazettes car, assesses the threat level as ‘High”, since the suspect has a prior for illegal weapons possession (told ya it was a plot point). Cut to shots of police cars from apparently all over the L.A. basin converging on where British Sleazette is driving along. (“Screw this hostage situation, we got ourselves an unsubstantiated report of a paparazzi with a gun! Step on it!”). The lead car orders British Sleazette to pull over. He, for the first time noticing that he’s heading up a procession of cop cars roughly analogous to what one would expect to see behind a white Ford Bronco with a famous ex-football player in the back, leads the cops on a thrilling high speed chase that lasts for all of 2 blocks. It’s like “The World’s Shortest Chase Scene”. Really, what is the point here? Anyway, he pulls over as scores of cop cars come roaring up all around him, and, in one of the most inadvertently hilarious moments this film has thus far offered up, politely calls out, “Do you want to see my drivers license?”.
So, British Sleazette reaches into his suit jacket to retrieve his drivers license and pulls out a prop gun instead. (Drivers license? Gun? Who can tell the difference?). Instead of dropping it like a hot potato, he instead decides it would be a good idea to wave it around in front of the numerous trigger-happy cops who currently have him trained in their sights. With predictable ensuing results. British Sleazette goes down in a hail of gunfire, riddled with bullets, while Bo, parked nearby, watches gleefully. (“Journal Entry #2. Incident: British paparazzi took picture of my wife taking a pill. How I dealt with it: Arranged to have him shot numerous times by trigger-happy policeman”).
You know, Bo is supposed to be the put-upon hero here, but once again I am just not getting the vibe. I mean, the guy is sitting there getting off on the sight of someone else being blown apart by bullets. Granted, it’s supposed to be a bad guy someone else, but please – taking pleasure in a sight like that is just SICK. Dude, the guy you just caused the death of had the good grace to at least feel bad about the accident that injured you & your family, the least you could do is feel a teensy tiny bit of disquiet about the gruesome fate you just condemned him to. Without, I might add, having had the guts to mete out the punishment yourself. (You know, I really shouldn’t have said that. Because later in the movie, when this oversight gets rectified, it’s even worse).
Cut to an overhead shot of a busy L.A. freeway as Bo makes his way to the hospital, where Lovely Wife is at Cute’s bedside, having apparently drawn the short straw on Agonizing duty. Bo watches through the blinds as Lovely Wife urges little Cute to wake up. Meanwhile, on the Yacht of Sleaze, HSG watches the news report about British Sleazette’s death, which is being described as a “suicide by cop”. When the news report states that the weapon found on British Sleazette was a “modified .45 blank gun, commonly used in the movie industry”, HSG immediately figures out what happened. He has character ESP, you know. He immediately calls Daniel Baldwin, who is currently in residence at his abode, which appears to be some sort of weird lighthouse/castle-type thing. Daniel is hard at work photoshopping an image of some female celebrity or another. (WHAT?! He’s NOT working on ruining Bo Laramie’s life?). Upon receiving HSG’s message, Daniel Baldwin immediately rushes over to the Yacht of Sleaze.
‘It was Laramie and I know it”, HSG announces as Daniel Baldwin enters. (See? I told you he has ESP). Anyway, HSG continues on by saying that he has tried convincing the cops that is the case, but they are having none of it. (That would be because they are COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT). Daniel Baldwin is frightened – “He’s coming for us next, man!”, but HSG assures him he has a plan to deal with the menace. They will sneak into Laramie’s house and set up a bunch of spy cameras – he’s even got pictures of Bo punching in the security codes at the house. (He puts a security system on the HOUSE but nothing on the GROUNDS. Bright boy, that Bo Laramie). Daniel Baldwin immediately agrees to go along with this plan. Dude, I don’t want to put a harsh on your buzz or anything, but has it occurred to you that going along with Head Sleazy Guy’s plans so far has gotten two of your friends killed? Didn’t think so.
Over at the Laramie house, Bo is taking his leave of his wife to go work on his film. Arriving on the set, he is informed that Detective Dennis is waiting to see him in his trailer. After a few pleasantries (Detective Dennis has six daughters! And no, it is no relevance to the rest of the film at all. But if I have to suffer through getting this totally useless bit of information, so do you). He’s traced the gun that British Sleazette was waving around when he was shot to the film set. He’s got two paparazzi who were involved in Bo’s accident that are dead, and he’s suspicious. While he is “cleverly” trying to work the conversation around to this topic, Detective Dennis picks up a copy of PAPARAZZI magazine (this one has the headline “Laramie’s At Fault! Son’s Life “In God’s Hands Now”. Laramie Caught Boozing at Premiere”), which happens to be lying about Bo’s trailer. Hey, Bo, I’ve got an idea – if you want that nasty PAPARAZZI magazine to go away, DON’T BUY IT!!!
Bo plays it cool, though, so Detective Dennis takes his leave. As he is about to exit Bo’s trailer, though, he pauses, “Oh, you know, Bo, there is one thing…” Oh, great, now we’re getting cheapjack “Columbo” imitations. What’s the difference between Detective Dennis and Columbo? Columbo wasn’t COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT. Detective Dennis would like an autographed picture from Bo for one of his daughters. (Wonder if he would like him to sign it ACROSS THE CROTCH, PLEASE!). Bo can’t find a pen, so Detective Dennis proffers him the one he found where Motorcycle Sleazette’s body was found. Bo, immediately intuiting that this pen could connect him with the recently deceased Motorcycle Sleazette (character ESP again), darkly glares at the offending implement when his back is turned to Detective Dennis, but covers with a bright grin when he hands the autographed picture to him. (Actually, it’s more like a “wolfish rictus”. Scary).
Next scene, Bo is driving off the set. Man, those Hollywood filmmakers are just slavedrivers. Guy shows up, walks into his trailer, and chats with a cop. Don’t they know that’s more work than one human could be expected to bear? Back at the Laramie house, Head Sleazy Guy and Daniel Baldwin are making their skulking entrance to the premises by dint of WALKING THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR (!). Cue dramatic crosscuts of Bo driving down the highway in his driveway in his GMC (man, General Motors sure got their moneys worth on product placements in this flick) with HSG and Daniel Baldwin setting up the spy cams. Car. Spycams. Yawn.
In the midst of all this pulse-punding (read: BORING) action, who should still be at home but Lovely Wife! From the car, Bo calls the house, and as the phone rings, Head Sleazy Guy calls out to Daniel Baldwin, “Maybe it’s one of us!”. (Huh? You’re other two friends are kaput. What, they are calling from beyond the grave?). Lovely Wife, upon hearing this, stands nonplussed, then turns around just in time to smack straight into Daniel Baldwin., who has walked up behind her. (HIDE, you putz. HIDE!). Screaming like a banshee, she grabs the phone off the cradle and begins to hit Daniel Baldwin with it, while PSYCHO-type music blares on the soundtrack. Bo, in the car, hears his wife screaming and shrieking and freaks out. He immediately starts speeding and weaving through traffic. Also freaking out is Daniel Baldwin, who rips the phone out of Wifey’s hand, throws her to the ground, and puts his hand over her mouth while yelling, “SHUT UP!!!!”. I say, that’s rather churlish. The poor woman hasn’t had but five lines of dialogue the entire movie, he should give her a chance to deliver the ones she has here, even if they do consist of, “WAAAAAH!!! AAAAAARGH!!!!! HELP!!!!”.
Head Sleazy Guy grabs Daniel Baldwin, screaming, “What the hell are you doing?”, and drags him out of the house as Bo enters, all hopped up and loaded for bear. Before he leaves, Baldwin sneers at Lovely Wife, “You say one word to the cops, and I’m coming back for the kid!”. Really, dude, why go for the fear angle? Why not just calmly state to her the truth, “Don’t bother going to the cops, they’re COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT.” Anyway, I guess we’ve just had Daniel Baldwin’s sleaziness established, so now Bo will go after him. This movie’s habit of establishing the sleaziness of the Sleazettes just prior to their Bo-induced demises is like textbook bad screenwriting. Establish their scumbag-ness EARLY ON, you twits!
So Bo comforts his terrified wife as Head Sleazy Guy and Daniel Baldwin haul ass out of there. “They’re never going to stop, Bo!”, she wails. “They’re never going to stop!”. But the set of Bo’s granite jaw says otherwise. Later, he dispatches his bodyguard to the hospital to keep nosey photographers away from little Cute, LIKE HE SHOULD HAVE DONE IN THE FIRST BLOODY PLACE. I swear, this guys learning curve goes straight up. (Giggle alert: Bo orders that nobody be allowed inside the room unless they are a doctor. Which will come as news to the numerous NURSES that need to enter the room to care for little Cute. I guess nurses are optional). Lovely Wife’s Doctor enters, having just given Lovely Wife a 12 hour sedative - PLOT POINT! - and together they walk out as two cops show up, having been assigned by Detective Dennis to keep an eye on Bo’s property. Which would be somewhat useful if it weren’t for the fact that the police in this movie are COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT.
Back at the Yacht of Sleaze, Daniel Baldwin slugs back booze straight out of the bottle (hey, if I were stuck in this movie, I’d want to get blitzed too), and asks HSG what the plan is. But HSG is angered about Baldwin’s stupid actions. “If we were worried Laramie was coming after us before, we have guaranteed it now”, he snarls. When Daniel Baldwin suggests they call the cops, he bellows at him, “And tell them we broke into his house, you ATTACKED his wife, and that WE would like some protection? You’re a MORON!” (And yes, he delivers the line exactly like that). Which leads one to think a.) You only just now NOTICED, HSG? and b.) This while go-after-Bo-Laramie thing was YOUR STUPID IDEA in the FIRST PLACE, you DICK, who are you calling MORON?! Of course, Daniel Baldwin says none of these things, instead, in response to Head Sleazy Guy’s orders, he goes home to get killed by Bo Laramie to wait for further instructions from HSG when he finally formulates a plan.
Back to the Laramie abode. A pizza delivery car drives up to the front gate, and Lord help us all, it’s none other than Chris Rock playing the delivery guy. Let’s watch the entire movie screech to a halt right at the point it should be building momentum so Rock can engage in a painfully unfunny comedy routine! The point to this exercise in time wasting is that Chris Rock’s character is annoyed that the police standing guard at the gate want to see his ID. He’s certain it’s because, you know, black and all. Rock fumes, the cops peer at his ID, I pray for the torture to end. Finally, he is waved through the gate, arrives at the house, and yes, we are treated yet ANOTHER excruciating Rock scene as he gushes all over himself at the fact that he is delivering ‘za to like a really, really famous guy. Bo, ever the nice guy, instructs the delivery guy to put one pizza inside and give the other to the policeman. Awww, what a swell guy. For a vigilante. So pizza guy does as he is instructed, but wait! Who is in his trunk? It’s Bo Laramie, and he’s got a plan!
Cut to a shot of Bo running through the woods towards his Malibu. (Wait a minute, how did he get out of the trunk without anybody noticing? Teleportation?). What the – he stores a valuable classic car in the middle of the FOREST? Okay, it’s under a tarp, but still. And he picks the most conspicuous set of wheels possible to go carry out his **cough** brilliant **cough** plan? Is there NO ONE in this movie who possesses more than three functioning brain cells?
Meanwhile, in the depths of L.A., Detective Dennis drives along the streets of L.A. while getting a report from HQ on his ongoing whatever investigation. Looks like the answer to my above question is ‘Yes”. Apparently the lab has developed a tape which will break the case wide open. As if. Detective Dennis hustles back to HQ to check it out. At the lab he requests a copy of the tape, but such is the scientific genius of the lab guy, he can give the detective a DVD! Oooooh, I’m impressed. ‘I’m going to go wake up Laramie!”, he announces, and sets out to do so. The suspense (Zzzzzzzzzzzzz) builds…
Laramie enters the Baldwin House of Weird. The living room is dominated by a large red neon sculpture of a woman in profile. He goes through the various photos of (natch) him lying around as the phone rings and HSG’s voice comes through on the answering machine. He’s finally come up with a plan (I suggest “BLOW TOWN”), and wants Baldwin to meet him on the Yacht of Sleaze so he can explain it. Just as the message ends, the spycams come on line and Bo is confronted of various shots of his own home. He stares at them with rising fury and just then, wouldn’t ya know, Daniel Baldwin enters AND WALKS RIGHT BY BO. (I’m not joking, Bo has to WHISTLE to get his attention. I guess the booze finally took effect or something). Having got Daniel Baldwin’s attention, Bo advances on him, holding a baseball bat and grinning evilly…
Back to Detective Dennis driving around L.A. again. Going through and intersection, he gets a picture of his car taken by one of those ubiquitous and annoying intersection cameras and realizes – FINALLY – he should check out the photos from those to see who really caused the accident. Like he would have done in the FIRST PLACE if he hadn’t been COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT.
On the Yacht of Sleaze, Head Sleazy Guy heads out to do something or other – it can’t be to meet Daniel Baldwin, since the phone message clearly instructed him to meet on his boat. My guess the purpose of this little midnight jaunt is “To leave his domicile conveniently empty so Bo can break in”. Sure enough, Bo is skulking along the dock, waiting for just such an opportunity.
Cut to Detective Dennis driving to the Laramie house the next morning. (It took him ALL NIGHT to drive across town?). At the same time, Bo is parking the Malibu back at it’s safe, snug spot in the MIDDLE OF THE WOODS. Well, not quite the middle of the woods – the next shot shows Bo ducking down behind his chariot when Detective Dennis drives by on the road NOT FIVE FEET AWAY. The security on this valuable classic car just never ceases to amaze me. Why don’t you just park the thing in the middle of Compton, Bo? Up the driveway comes Detective Dennis. He stops to chat and deliver donuts to the cops who were guarding the place while Bo dashes through the forest in order to reach his house first. Shot of Detective Dennis ringing the bell on the gate. Shot of Bo running. Shot of Lovely Wife sleeping. More shots of Bo running. Shot of Detective Dennis waiting by the gate. More shots of Bo running. Shot of me repeatedly bashing my head into the keyboard to relieve the excruciating boredom.
Finally, Bo makes it into the house and rings Detective Dennis in. “Hello, Detective” he GASPS into the phone. Mainly because he’s COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT, Detective Dennis sees nothing amiss in a healthy mid-20’s guy sounding like he’s in the throes of a major asthma attack, and instead wonders, “How’d you know it was me?”. Bo of course comes up with a smooth lie to cover his faux pas (“I saw your car”), and Detective Dennis, being COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT, of course buys it. Once inside the Laramie house, the good detective shows Bo a videotape that was made from British Sleazette’s mini-cam (remember the one he was wearing when he made his way onto the set? The one that was ON HIS PERSON the entire time? The one the COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT police department has not discovered until JUST NOW?). Detective Dennis has noticed that the jacket has been moved. Well, what do you know, one of his neurons actually fired. He thinks someone on the set of Bo’s movie planted the gun. And he is sharing his suspicions what with what would have to be the numero uno suspect WHY?!?! Bo swallows nervously, but just then is saved by the bell – well, by the ring of Detective Dennis’s phone. He’s just been called away to another crime scene.
Upstairs, Lovely Wife is still sleeping. (Lucky her). Bo enters the bedroom and disables the spy-cam Head Sleazy Guy and Daniel Baldwin set up. Meanwhile, excited music blares from the soundtrack as we are treated to a pulse-pounding scene of Detective Dennis PULLING INTO A DRIVEWAY. Bo climbs into bed with Lovely Wife. Detective Dennis walks up to a house. The boredom suspense is killing me.
Cut to a shot from inside Daniel Baldwin’s house as Detective Dennis politely knocks on a door. The camera pulls back from the door and – GASP! SHOCK! – we see Daniel Baldwin’s lifeless body sprawled in the middle of his living room. Blood is pooling around his bashed-in head. But then, the door opens and –
Oh, great it’s a ‘gotcha’ sequence. It turns out that Detective Dennis is actually at Sober Girl’s house. He tells her he wants to talk to her about the night of the accident, and as he does so he brandishes the pictures that were taken by the intersection-cam (you know, the ones it took him all this time to look at because he is COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT). Meanwhile, back at Dead Daniel Baldwin’s place, Head Sleazy Guy continues to knock on the door ( but… but… he told Daniel Baldwin to meet him on the boat… my head hurts). He looks through the picture window, sees Daniel Baldwin’s lifeless body, and immediately calls 911! Uh, no. That would be intelligent. And we’ve hit the part of the movie where even villains with genius-level IQ’s show all the higher thinking processes of your average kumquat. No, instead he breaks through the window and charges into the house to get his DNA all over everything kneel by his dead comrade’s side and stare at him in disbelief. Hearing police sirens, he runs off.
Back at Sober Girl’s house, she is tearfully recounting the events of the evening in question to Detective Dennis. “THEY caused the accident that night!”, she wails. He wants to know why she didn’t come forward with this information earlier. She wails some more. Cut to a shot of Detective Dennis’s car barreling down the highway, as he dramatically orders up “two units” to pick up Head Sleazy Guy on suspicion of rape. He also wants a patrol car to meet him at Daniel Baldwin’s place. (Hey! It turns out Daniel Baldwin’s character actually has a name – Wendell Stokes. Cute. Well, he’s dead now, so it doesn’t make any difference). But the dispatcher informs him that police cars are already headed to both those locations, responding to anonymous (ha!) 911 calls. Detective Dennis looks puzzled – what could this mean? (It means that the LAW & ORDER gig you took was a smart move. It will help people forget you were actually in this movie).
Cut to a highly upset Head Sleazy Guy entering the Yacht of Sleaze, which in his absence has been redecorated into the Yacht of Daniel Baldwin’s Blood Smeared All Over The Place. With The Bloody Bat Used To Beat Daniel Baldwin’s Brains In parked in a conspicuous spot. Head Sleazy Guy freaks out at this gruesome sight. His friend has been murdered and he is being set up for the crime! Head Sleazy Guy looks out the window of his boat and sees two police officers headed his way. There is only one thing to do – get the heck out of there and make tracks for Mexico, pronto. But Head Sleazy Guy doesn’t do that, because if he did, there would be no big confrontation scene between him and Our Baseball Bat Wielding Hero(?). So, instead, Head Sleazy Guy grabs a pistol and instead heads toward the last place he should be going to – Bo Laramie’s house.
Meanwhile, Detective Dennis, ever the slow guy, wanders about Dead Daniel Baldwin’s house while the CSI guys do their work. The Head CSI Guy explains his theory of what went down to the puzzled Detective (make sure to use words of one syllable only, CSI Guy, the good detective is a bit slow on the uptake because he’s COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT). Head CSI Guy thinks the perp came through the window (you know, the one Head Sleazy Guy so considerately busted so the CSI folks could jump to that conclusion), then proceeded to bash Daniel Baldwin’s brains in with some weapon which they so far haven’t been able to find. There’s a bloody handprint on the wall which they think belongs to the perp. (Blooper alert: Head Sleazy Guy never touches the wall at any time he is in the house. Therefore the print must belong to Bo “Louisville Slugger“ Laramie. Bright boy, our Bo). Detective Dennis wanders over to Daniel Baldwin’s computer, and, as if by magic, the spy-cams at Bo Laramie’s house come on line! (When where they ever switched off?) And wouldn’t you know it, Head Sleazy guy is breaking in to Laramie’s abode right at that VERY EXACT SECOND! What a coinkydink!
So Detective Dennis goes speeding over to Laramie’s place, tossing out an order for backup as he leaves, while Head Sleazy Guy walks in the front door(!) and begins strolling through the premises. The phone begin to ring – it’s Detective Dennis, frantically trying to get ahold of Laramie. But Laramie isn’t answering. Cut to a shot of Head Sleazy Guy sneaking through the house, gun drawn. He enters Bo’s bedroom and fires three shots into the bed. Yup, looks like ol’ Laramie is a goner. Time to roll the credits and go home… thank Jabootu, the movie is over….
Oh. Wait. Bo cleverly hid behind the door so he could jump Head Sleazy Guy and they could have a big fight. He knocks the gun out of Head Sleazy Guy’s hand right off and begins whaling on him. Cut to Detective Dennis still waiting for Bo to answer the phone. Cut to Bo beating the crap out of Head Sleazy Guy. Ring, ring. Punch, punch. Bo finally knocks Head Sleazy Guy senseless with a walloping right cross, then picks up the phone. Detective Dennis bellows to him to get out of the house ASAP. Bo looks down and sees Head Sleazy Guy coming to, so he pounds on him so more using the cell phone as a bludgeon, all the while yelling, “Hurry, Detective, he’s here! Help! Help!” Then he hangs up, and proceeds to stand over the prostrate form of Head Sleazy Guy, who at this point is groggy but conscious, and gloat.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Rex”, our Noble Hero taunts. “The bat was a nice touch, wasn’t it? You’re going down for Wendell’s murder.” Wait a minute, this doesn’t sound like a Noble Hero speech, this sounds distinctly like a Villainous Rant. You know, the one the bad guy launches into when it looks like the hero is going to die for sure, so the bad guy decides to explain his nefarious plot to him in detail because he figures it won’t make any difference. Anyway, when Head Sleazy Guy weakly protests that Bo “can’t do that”, Bo viciously kicks him in the ribs. Then, upon hearing Detective Dennis’s car roaring up his driveway (it bursts straight through the security gate – once again, I really question Our Supposed Hero’s commitment to preventing invasions of privacy in the first place), he picks up the gun, levels it at Head Sleazy Guy, and taunts some more. “This worked out soooo perfect, Rex, I don’t think I could have written it any better myself. It’s just a shame I can’t tell anyone. Except you. I can tell you, can’t I Rex? I feel like I can share anything with you… I feel the need to share.” (What, is he going to kiss him or something? Throw over Lovely Wife and little Cute and run off to Tijuana with his new love? That would be something completely different). “Ready for the last act, Rex?”, Bo ends as a psychotic grin stretches across his face. At which point Our Hero rises up and smites the Crazed Psycho, ending his reign of terror for once and for all – except that Our Hero IS the Crazed Psycho, so really there’s no one to root for in this scene. I suppose we could root for the film to break. That would be an improvement.
So Detective Dumbass breaks in and sees a “shaken” Bo holding a badly battered Head Sleazy Guy at gunpoint. When Head Sleazy Guy attempts to tell his side of the story, Bo kicks him in the head (!), yet somehow this does not arouse the COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT detective’s suspicions that something is off. Bo hands the gun to the detective and walks out, grinning to himself. Head Sleazy Guy, lying on the carpet, moans. (“How did I end up in this cruddy movie?”). Detective Dennis is stupid.
Later, Detective Dennis leads a handcuffed Head Sleazy Guy out of the house. Apparently having recovered his cockiness, or perhaps his powers of logical thought, HSG boats that, “I’ll be out of jail in a week!”. (I’ll say. Bo’s DNA has to be all over Daniel Baldwin’s place and the Yacht of Sleaze, not to mention the murder weapon). Bo, his arm draped around Lovely Wife, is unfazed. I guess he figures he can just kill any cops that come after him for the crimes he’s committed and frame the rest.
Head Sleazy Guy is marched out to the police car through a barrage of reporters firing questions at him and – IRONY ALERT! IRONY ALERT! – paparazzi snapping pictures. Yes, He That Lives By the Embarassing Picture Dies By the Embarassing Picture. (Something all involved in this big steaming pile of cinematic ordure learned the hard way when it was released). Detective Dennis shoves Head Sleazy Guy into the back of a squad car, then, as he is walking back to his own vehicle, spies Bo and Lovely Wife standing arm-in-arm on the porch of their house. He smiles warmly at them, then, after they have re-entered their domicile, looks suspicious. Or maybe he just realized he left the water running at home. More likely the latter.
Later, on Bo’s movie set, he gets a call from the hospital. A miracle has occured! Little Cute-as-a-Button, realizing that the end of the picture is nigh, has decided to come out of his coma to provide the requisite happy ending! Hmmm… he stays in a coma and thus offscreen for the bulk of the picture. I’m starting to think this kid had the best sense of career preservation of anyone in this flick.
And finally, a tag scene. It’s opening night for ADRENALINE FORCE 2, and Bo is standing in the lobby of the theatre, his now pregnant wife and son at his side, taking congratulations from none other than Matthew McCoughaney. Good gawd, will these lameoid celebrity cameos never end? It’s like what IT’S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD WORLD would be like if it wasn’t funny, just painful. Back out onto the red carpet Bo goes to his limo (the wife & kid get taken out the back way). As he is making his way through the snapping cameras and cheering crowds, a paparazzi suddenly yells out, “Hey, Bo! Packing on a few pounds there, Laramie?”. Bo turns and ominously advances on the hapless photographer. What is he going to do to him? Drop him off a cliff? Cause the cops to open fire on him? Beat his head in with a baseball bat? Frame him for murder?
But, no, instead Bo says affably, “Matter of fact, I am”. He and the paparazzi grin and shoot fingers at each other. It’s like they are the bestest buddies in the whole wide world! Because nothing cleanses a man’s soul and cures him of his rage control problems like cold-bloodedly murdering people! And in the end, isn’t that really what it’s all about?
AFTERTHOUGHTS:
So, in the end, what can we say about PAPARAZZI? We can say this:
THIS MOVIE SUCKED SO HARD THAT LIGHT COULDN’T ESCAPE AND TIME BENT BACK ON ITSELF!
Ooops, I guess I need to embroider on that opinion a bit. This movie simply doesn’t work from the git-go. It’s premise is fatally flawed – there is a reason the flick goes into overdrive trying to establish the “bad guys” as the scum of the earth, it’s because otherwise our “hero’s” main reason for wreaking bloody vengeance on them is just flatly ridiculous. But the biggest reason PAPARAZZI is a horrible, vile, disgusting mess of a movie is because it violates the one inviolable rule of the Vigilante Movie – that the hero be better than, morally superior to the men he hunts down and kills. The photographers in this movie are indeed scumbags, no question. But the so-called “hero” is a sociopathic killer. He beats another human being’s brains in with a baseball bat, for Gawd’s sake! With deliberate intent and without a shred of remorse! Trying to pick between the “hero” and the villains of this flick is like trying to decide whether or not you would want to be locked in a room for an hour with a child pornographer or a serial murderer. Both are going to be horrifically unpleasant experiences, but at least with the former you’ll exit alive.
Not only that, but Bo Laramie in this film doesn’t pick the path of violence as a last resort but as a first resort. Right out of the gate, he’s punching a guy in the face, and then it’s like he can hardly wait to get to the fatal stuff. Never at any point does he even consider taking a non-violent, preventative approach – like, for example, installing a privacy fence around his pool. Instead, our “hero” simply waits until he is given a barely-adequate excuse to launch a killing spree and, when he gets it, goes on one. And we the audience are supposed to cheer this on.
And there’s another aspect to the movie which renders it a distinctly unpleasant viewing experience. And that is the message – probably not intended but nevertheless present – that the real crime worthy of punishment is not rank immorality or sleaziness. The real crime is to be weak. For example, the only character that shows even a shred of remorse for his actions – British Sleazette, who actually felt bad about the accident he and his compatriots caused – is the one who suffers arguably the most gruesome fate in the entire film, i.e., getting ripped apart by multiple rounds of gunfire. Motorcycle Sleazette, who is shown “wussily” being afraid in an arguably frightening situation, is also mercilessly dispatched. On the other hand, Head Sleazy Guy, the architect of the vendetta against Bo Laramie, who remains unrepentant to the very end, is merely (ludicrously) set up for murder, on a case so flimsy that any reasonably competent lawyer could make a case for reasonable doubt. And finally, the “hero” of the piece is victimized again and again when he attempts to show restraint or follow the proper (weak) rules of behavior. It is only when he starts exerting his superior will on others (by dint of killing them) that he alleviates the situation. This fascistic message isn’t really made explicit in the movie, but it’s kind of there. And it’s kind of disturbing.
So, once again, another cinematic offering is placed on the altar of Jabootu, and once again the Great Horned One has looked upon and found it Bad (which in this case, is good. If you get what I mean). And once again, a humble minion of Jabootu takes it upon herself to document the Badness for posterity. Because if you can’t enjoy the movie, you can always enjoy the schadenfreude.
THE CRITIC’S RAVE:
"Scummy sleaze doesn't get more amoral and savage than this petulant, loathsome tale. You can feel the hate."
-- Susan Granger, WWW.SUSANGRANGER.COM
"A vigilante movie so sleazy and creepy it makes Death Wish look like a comedy."
-- Ruthe Stein, SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE
"A vigilante fable so boorish, brainless and mean-spirited, everyone involved should be locked up for assault."
-- Lisa Rose, NEWARK STAR-LEDGER
"An amazingly arrogant, immoral film."
-- Dave Kehr, NEW YORK TIMES
"A strong contender for the most loathsome piece of self-serving, hypocritical trash ever to ooze its way out of a studio."
-- Ken Hanke, MOUNTAIN XPRESS (ASHEVILLE, NC)
"Loathsome doesn't begin to describe it. How about "toxic"?"
-- Walter Chaw, FILM FREAK CENTRAL
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Edited by - tam1MI on 03/19/2006 10:40:37 AM
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Evil Photographers from Hell, or.. PAPARAZZI!
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