Regretful Film Reviews

The Hebrew translation of "Bad Boys" in Hebrew, as you see on the left, is "Evil Boys". That's not an inappropriate choice of words. The anonymous translators could have chosen the word shovav (or shobab) instead as the translation for "bad", since it means something like "mischievous" or "rambunctious". And that sentiment would have perhaps more accurately reflected the spirit of the first Bad Boys flick. The conscience-reggae song by Inner Circle, which became the Cops theme, provided the original 1995 movie title. Ian Lewis's lyrics are about taking responsibility for your misdeeds. But ironically, the title of these movies refers to the policemen, who in this case do not take any responsibility for their reckless behaviour. So we lucked out here with one of those unintentionally funny translations that ends up nailing the true meaning in the film. It's not just the criminals that are bad boys in this one; it's the cops. These guys are evil.

Let me make this clear: I don't know what happened here. I expected this flick to be a good one, in the sense of a fun, buddy-cop action movie, like the 1995 Bad Boys... Actually, I have a suspicion that it had to do with a change of personnel between the first and the second. Granted, Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay are responsible for both, and perhaps they have simply turned cynical and greedy over the years, but the rest of the writing and producing team is different.

These are guys who, if they were shooting a scene set in a library, would have explosions going off among the stacks, with books flying and stained-glass windows crashing down, for no particular reason. These are guys who, if they set a scene in a monastery, would have monks leaping out of their cells and stabbing passers-by on their way to the chapel, for no particular reason. These are guys who would film a scene set at an opera and have the set crash down on the singers, who would (if they were women) take off their clothes in their panic, or (if they were men) would be impaled by Neptune's fork and eject guts all over the stage... and we're just talking about an opera scene whose purpose in the film would be to demonstrate that the main characters are classy and sophisticated -- not as the scene of the showdown.

There is one scene in this movie, I kid you not, in which overweight "businessmen" push desks and file cabinets out of the windows of their office, which is some floors above ground level. I think they were trying to hide evidence or something. With much thought and contemplation, I still could not figure out what the purpose of this scene was. Except, of course, to show what a giant desk falling out of a building looks like.

There is a grotesque scene in a mortuary, which involves uncovering a dead woman's body. Of course, she is undressed, perfectly preserved, and voluptuous. A few minutes later she is referred to as a "bimbo". No one questions this terminology. Are mortuary workers really so misogynist?

And here is an example of how bad the writing is: the F-word is tossed about carelessly, losing all meaning. Okay, nothing new there. But what's funny is that Lawrence uses it at least twice in its literal meaning. Of course, once it has lost its meaning, it is useless for him to try to use it literally. But he does, both times highly inappropriately: once to a young boy who is coming to take his daughter out on a date, and once to remark that rodents copulate in the same fashion as humans. (Note to moronic script-writer: no, animals don't.) What bothered me more in this was that Marcus is supposedly controlling his anger, and taking compassion on other human beings, even on criminals. And yet when they visit a prison, he curses at the inmates, pointlessly.

And most notably, there is a scene of the police officers driving a humvee over and through countless shanty homes in Cuba, with no conscience. There is no point to this, except to see a humvee driving over big stuff. But these are people's homes!

I somehow remember enjoying the first Bad Boys. I remember getting past their language and enjoy the humour. I don't remember it being excessively violent, as action flicks go. I remember the chemistry that Will Smith and Martin Lawrence had, the ongoing good-natured buddy rivalry that kept their job interesting and their relationship with the bad guys clear. It didn't hurt that we liked them anyway from their previous television characters -- keep in mind that Will Smith's biggest film so far had been Six Degrees of Separation, and that this was well before Independence Day and, best of all, Men in Black. In other words, he was basically still the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air in most people's minds when this came out, and Martin Lawrence was still a UPN and House Party funny man (remember Kid and Play? no, I don't either).

And I remember Téa Leoni, who I thought was enough of a reason to watch the thing, no matter how it turned out. (Even though I knew it was probably a sin to think so, since she was married to David Duchovny.) She played the friend of a prostitute or stripper or something who had been killed; I think she was a witness to the crime, so the guys had to put her in homemade witness protection, for some reason pretending to be each other. And I remember realising at about this point that in Hollywood's simplistic mentality, an action movie with black heroes necessitated most of the bad guys being white (a theory that has demonstrated itself ever since: references upon request). But the guys were essentially protectors of justice and punishers of wrongdoing, and were therefore good policemen who got the job done. We thought we were seeing what comedians became when they grew up. Good will abounded.

Not so, lo these eight years later. The Lawrence and Smith characters are now pure evil. I hate to say it, but you can see for yourself. They have burned out with their job and taken opposite directions: no longer interested in justice, Mike (Smith) just wants to strut his style and kill witnesses, while Marcus (Lawrence) is intent on putting the finishing touches on destroying their already crumbling friendship and crying about how bad his life is. It is bad: he has a beautiful wife and family, a beautiful home and yard by the water in Miami, a veranda, a pool, a big dog, a barbecue grill, etc. No, what really is the problem is his partner, who is psychopathic. So he is about to leave him.

The plot is (a) extremely complicated and (b) makes no sense. It is about fifteen different possible action plots woven together, shot in about three hundred different locations. But this is no Magnolia, folks. This is Frankenstein's monster (just before someone opens up his cadaver to stuff it with a loosely-sealed plastic bag full of X). You see each location for about ten seconds, and then it's on to the next one. And the cast of thousands means you are going to have to pay attention to minor characters, since they will be introduced for a few seconds, disappear, and come up later in the "story".

Speaking of which. There are some drug importers, the head of whom is Cuban (i.e. major bad guy). There is an ecstasy lab in Amsterdam. There is some connexion with a mortuary, which launders their imports, so to speak. There is a KKK rally, which is of course full of white bad guys, but ridiculous ones. There is a Russian rave-club owner, who is not quite a whiz at business, but who at least has the good sense to throw a guy out from the midst of fabulously beautiful dancing women, if it looks like he is about to overheat and die of an ecstasy overdose. (Interestingly, he could take them straight to the mortuary for use in importations: now that would be character economy!) There is Joey Pants, playing the stereotypical raging police chief who must both chew out Marcus and Mike, and let them do their stuff. And finally, there is Martin Lawrence's sister Syd (Gabrielle Union), an undercover NYC police officer who is moonlighting in the drug trade -- oh, right, trying to arrest someone.

If you decide to throw caution to the wind and watch this piece of drek, it will be for the thousands of pointless action sequences, for the beautiful colours and scenery, for the well-orchestrated sound track, or for the "humour". But I cannot help throwing out a few questions that leaped up in my mind while I was trying to keep up with the whole mess, in hopes that it would redeem itself by the end.

• Why does it seem that Syd -- Marcus's sister and Mike's love interest -- is a little too deeply undercover? Clues abound that she is not really working for the police... but they never pay off. Is this just bad writing?
  
• There is a funny scene in which Mike and Marcus discuss the latter's being shot in the rear end the night before, which is causing him impotence. Everyone around thinks they are homosexuals, while Mike explains to Marcus in vivid metaphors that he doesn't want to hear about his malfunctioning equipment. He uses the metaphor of burying this discussion at the bottom of the sea. This is clearly a reference to the case they are trying to solve, as it is the answer they are looking for concerning the smuggling methods used by the X importers. This is obviously a chance for Mike to hit up on the answer serendipitously. But he doesn't! Is this just bad writing?
  
• Why does the redneck klansman double as a boat captain and trusted sea watchman during a stakeout?
  
• Who is the Cuban guy who double-crosses them at the end? Is he the cousin of the Miami police officer who is always kidding Mike and Marcus (that's either Yul Vazquez (as Mateo Reyes) or Jason Manuel Olazabal (as Marco Vargas))? If so, why does he do that? Was he bad from the beginning or just trying to save his own skin?

And this list could go on, but I am sick of thinking about this two-hour-plus waste of an evening. Plus, I suspect it really doesn't matter.

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