Sunday, February 29, 2004

Say Hello to My Boring Friend!

I had never seen Scarface before. I had heard for so long how great it is, how groundbreaking and exciting and violent and profane and on and on, so we put it on our NetFlix queue and watched a few days ago.

My conclusion: that was one of the most bejeezusly boring movies I have ever seen. They really could have made about a 90 minute movie and everything would have been fine. The first hour, after all, was entertaining. People said "mang!" a lot, which is a tried and true benefit for so many movies, like Remains of the Day, Witness and Nell.

We got to see lots of cocaine, lots of Al Pacino setting new records in overacting achievement, Michelle Pfeiffer dancing like a sedated outpatient, a guy getting in touch with his inner chainsaw sculptor. All that was well and good. Also, Tony Montana having really miserable luck with the ladies.

But they had to stretch this thing out for over two and a half hours, with pacing that would have tested Jim Jarmusch's patience. I thought of all the young toughs who crow about the greatness of this movie, in much the same way they espouse the benefits of, you know, Red Bull and those tiny tires that stick out the sides of their cars in a touching tribute to legos. I can't believe these gangster wannabes really like this film.

So again, just give us the first hour and then the exciting finale scene. They can just bust right in to the scene where Pacino has coke dripping off his nose. That would be fine. It would save us all a lot of aggravation and pink and green neon.

Incidentally, with a nice name like Tony Montana, I'm sure there were other career paths open to Pacino's character. I mean, look how well Tony Roma has done for himself with that rib thing. Perhaps a used car lot? I don't know, but for god's sake I wouldn't have had to put up with the movie if he had just listened to his career counselor a little more acutely.

Also also, I don't know what gang of lower mammals did the soundtrack for Scarface, but it sounds like someone with a Casio, a built in beat, and little or no imagination.


Blog Archive