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Constantine
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Keanu Reeves peculiar style of acting, with its minimalist reactions and meek gazes, found its best expression in the Matrix trilogy of 1999 to 2003. Sadly those films which make a virtue of his impassive acting remain a rare occasion in his career (Bernardo Bertolucci's Little Buddha (1993) is another notable exception). Whether the fault of the filmmakers or the result of his own ill-advised choices, the films in which he stars continue to misuse and misrepresent the actor and do little to counter the popular notion that Keanu can't act, and his latest film, Constantine (2005), is no different.Taken from the DC/Vertigo comic series Hellblazer, Constantine (the name was changed to avoid confusion with Hellboy [2004] and other namesakes) transposes the setting and look of the original character, a man born with the ability to see angels and demons, from a blond-haired Londoner to a jet-black Angelino. The film opens in Mexico and sees the Spear of Destiny (the blade that pierced Christ's side as he hung on the cross) being found and brought back to LA by a possessed man. This sets in motion a number of extraordinary supernatural events that leads the cynical, chain-smoking Constantine to suspect that something may be amiss in the balance between Heaven and Hell. Writers Jamie Delano and Kevin Brodin have incorporated a number of story strands from the different issues of the Hellblazer series into this film. The most prominent is from #41 The Beginning of the End which opened the Dangerous Habits storyline, and sees Constantine discovering that he has lung cancer. In the film this is one of the more interesting aspects of the character and it encourages some humorous exchanges between Constantine and the Archangel Gabriel, played by the androgynous Orlando (1992) star Tilda Swinton – 'Constantine, you're gonna die because you've smoked 30 cigarettes a day since you were 15. So, basically... you're fucked'. These observations may quash the hopes of anyone looking for some deep theological insight on the nature of life and death, but they are refreshingly funny and often needed in a movie of such persistent doom and gloom. The failings of Constantine, though, ultimately reside with its former music video director Francis Lawrence. Despite his best intentions to ground the film in a vein of bleak reality and keep the CGI devilry to a minimum, his lack of experience in directing actors means that most scenes without a haggard demon or burst of hellfire feel simply redundant. Reeves is woefully miscast and lacks the internal expressivity to give proper gusto to the role of a man riddled with cancer and condemned to hell. Similarly Rachel Weisz, in her second film with Reeves after Chain Reaction (1996), appears profoundly bored and fails to convince as policewoman Angela Dodson, a staunch Catholic whose twin sister's suicide precipitates the climax of the movie.
Reviewed by Deryck Swan
Reader comments about Constantine
Max Phillips (max.phillps1@ntlworld.com) writes:
Deryck Swann has been charitable to yet another million dollar offering which demonstrates the creative and moral bankruptcy of hollywood. There is nothing but surface in this fim. The characters are unspeakably dull. Their dilemmas are unengaging and never did a lung cancer victim look so healthy! The plot was hilarious and generaslly opaque. How did Tilda Swinton become involved? The dialogue failed to string together the cliches. In fact the the whole farrago reminded me of Orwell's 1984 and the Ministry that created entertainment for the masses by randomly revolving drums full of text and assembling the results.
Perhaps more disturbing was the manner in which the sensationalist and grotesque visualisations of hell seemed to link to US fundamentalism and the nightmares of the christian majority. Symbols of good and evil were utilised without a shred of moral or intellectual underpinning reflecting perhaps the confusion of simplistic fundamentalism. As for the Devil, well he had the only good part as usual.
Perhaps I'm being too harsh but both 57 year old me and 25 year old son struggled not to walk out from the tedium.
Dr. Brian O'Blivion (Email address withheld) writes:
Films like this remind me of the immortal Bill Hicks - "Watching tv is like spraying black paint over your third eye." Die, Hollywood, die.
Keanu "I want room service!" Reeves the cool mountain breeze, as the ultimate postmodern cyborg - cool, depthless ('superflat') and his deadpan, forever-slightly-out-of-sync delivery a masterful expression of all that is vapid tired cynical and lifeless in Western so-called CultureTM (ie. Product): a piece of wet crap-stained grey cardboard on an empty neon-lit street of the post-apocalyptic anywhere city.
We can only go up from here.
"They live. We sleep."
- Nada
Israel (israel445@sbcglobal.net) writes:
Is as sophomoric the written screen play, so be the fools wisdom it is derived from. Many like the Character (John-Hebrew beloved) only have the head knowledge of all that is good and evil. More than many will be turned away on that day. Threads of truth dangle blatantly, needles that only prick the hearts of those who cannot be taken below.
Watch for those who shake their head at this age old story about heaven and hell, and then pray for them, stand in the gap where time truly does not exist. Basement Boy called it"The Sacrifice.
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