Deep Impact (1998)

Director: Mimi Leder.

Cast: Robert Duvall, Téa Leoni, Elijah Wood, Morgan Freeman

Have I Seen It Before: Set aside, for a moment, the reality that the summer of 1998 was just one of those summers where I made it a point to see everything I could (Hope Floats, anyone?), you didn't get out of that summer having an opinion about the two big asteroids coming for the Earth films*.

Did I Like It: And now it's time for me to share those opinions, too. The lore around this movie is that it is the "smarter" version of the story, as opposed to its brother from a different studio. That's ultimately true, but l also think that forces almost every person on the planet to give Deep Impact more credit than it ultimately deserves.

Sure, Deep Impact reaches for emotions, whereas other movies are content with manipulation.

Indeed, there's some attempt at real science fiction, where there's a moment in that other movie where a character solemnly develops Space Madness, which I believe was cribbed from an episode of Ren & Stimpy. This one also has a score from James Horner, which automatically makes it better than most films you get in any particular summer, and a good measure better than any film that is to come**

But the reality is that Deep impact can really only be called a smart movie when it is compared to one of the silliest, most ridiculous films to ever blow out the speakers at your multiplex. It is a movie-of-the-week, with a cast of dozens, and plenty of moments of movie emotions, but it is still a big summer movie built with the largest, least discerning audience in mind. When compared with that animal crackers scene, however, Deep Impact suddenly transforms into a film for serious grown people only.

Deep Impact is the cinematic equivalent of my father growing up. His older brother was a wild child. Notoriously, legendarily so. I think Bart Simpson may have been partly based on my uncle.

Was my father a particularly well-behaved child? I don't tend to think so, but when those comparisons come in, I can see why my grandparents thought he was the calmer one.

Huh. And I didn't think I could get through an entire review of this movie without mentioning Armageddon (1998). There. I ruined it.

"I have no trouble imagining many of the people with those opinions didn't bother to see both films. I'll leave you to guess which one they did see.

**Maybe the Avatar sequels. Maybe.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Director: Kevin Reynolds

Cast: Kevin Costner, Morgan Freeman, Christian Slater, Alan Rickman

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. Flashback to 1991 for just a moment, and I even had a full range of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves toys (even if they were just a pretty feeble repackaging of Kenner’s Return of the Jedi toys from 1983. Seriously. They just slightly repainted an Ewok’s face to make Friar Tuck. Look it up.

Did I Like It: There is plenty to like about the film. It’s core identity as a film is that of a competent 90s actioner. There are explosions, and jumps, and fights, and a thumping orchestral score (which, for reasons passing my immediate understanding became the music behind the Walt Disney Studios vanity card after a while).

Morgan Freeman is quite good in a thankless, undercooked, and probably ill-considered, but he’s been the best thing in plenty of bad things. Some great actors just like to work. Alan Rickman is a cartoon confection of a villain, but understands the job ahead of him perfectly and you marvel at the fact that, in what amounted to his three most memorable roles, he plays the villain, or at the very least an anti-hero. In the Harry Potter films, he milks every moment out of the pathos available to him. In Die Hard (1988) he is a coiled snake of ruthless intelligence. In this film, he’s Sindely Whiplash. And all are equally valid.

The problem is, that there’s something rotten at the core of the movie, and it is its star. Much was made in the years immediately after the films release about Costner not playing the hero of Sherwood Forrest with an English accent, but you forget how wobbly the whole enterprise is if you haven’t seen it in a while. Costner feebly attempts a more formal tone of speaking, as if that will serve, but even that is inconsistent. It’s only somewhat his fault, as the very idea of casting him in the role is a bad one. At his core, he’s too all-American. The corpse in The Big Chill (1983)? Sure. Pa Kent? Absolutely. He’s not an Englishman. But, sadly, he was a bit too big after Dances with Wolves (1990) and no one could say no.

Ultimately, it kind of makes it akin to Star Wars — Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) in that way, a fine piece of blockbuster entertainment with a single unbelievable performance at it that brings the whole affair down. 

I didn’t think as I was starting to write this review that I was going to offer quite so many Star Wars comparisons in this review, but here we are. 

The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Director: Frank Darabont

Cast: Tim Robbins, Morgan Freeman, the triumph of the human spirit

Have I Seen it Before: I’ve got two eyes, a heart, and a cable package that has TNT. What do you think?

Did I Like It: See my answer to the previous question.

It’s pretty preposterous to try and write any length of criticism for a movie that subjectively is perfect, and objectively might hit that level as well. If you’ve seen it, you know that the thing works. I don’t need to tell you that. If you haven’t seen the movie yet, well Gosh… You should. But again, you probably don’t need me to tell you that.

I’ve seen the movie dozens of times over the years. I can’t think of a mark against it. Maybe it’s become clear that the “fresh fish” guy is also the same guy who appears in a photograph in the file of young Red (Morgan Freeman). He’s also Freeman’s son, and receives an additional credit as his assistant. Maybe—if you’re not hip to the idea of letting film work for you—that one little element might beggar suspension of disbelief.

It shouldn’t.

It’d also be pretty preposterous to try and list all the things the film this does well. There are likely plenty of other reviews that can offer similar insights, so I will offer you only one that stands out at me above the others during this viewing. Nearly any time a film defaults to voice over narration, I have almost always instantly decided that whatever virtue the film might have had, it has disappeared under the shadow of such an egregious dramatic crutch.

Not here.

With Shawshank, I never once judge the film for having a high amount of V.O. Maybe it’s the fact that Morgan Freeman offers the narration. I like to think that the film as a whole works so well, and in this one instance, the film actually demanded a tool that would destroy a lesser story.

It is in that rare pantheon of movies that you begin to forget its greatness the longer you go without seeing it. And then, when you are exposed to the film again, it’s almost as if you are viewing it for the first time.

That Frank Darabont is not in the pantheon of the great directors for this entry alone, I’ll never know. I just looked back on my review of The Green Mile (1999), and I said the same thing there. I must really mean it.