Hollywood Homicide is deadly dull and dumb


June 17, 2003, midnight | By Abigail Graber | 20 years, 10 months ago


Hollywood Homicide is just aching to be hip. There's the hip old guy followed around by the hip young guy who sleeps with the hip young girls. There's also the hip token black guy trying to buy a house from the "I used to be hip, really" aging movie producer guy. And, of course, the film is set to he hippest of the hip-hop soundtracks. And yet, somehow, it all manages to fall flat.

Hollywood Homicide has been billed as a comedy fueled by the generational antics of a team of mismatched Los Angeles detectives: Joe Gavilian (Harrison Ford), a down-on-his-luck homicide investigator turned failed real estate agent, and K. C. Calden (Josh Hartnett), who doubles as a part-time yoga instructor and male plaything for the thousands of beautiful women that flock to the streets of L.A. and inevitably to his hot tub. Considering the different lives they lead, it's not surprising that Gavilian and Calden actually spend little time in each other's presence, resulting in zero chemistry between Ford and Hartnett. The plot is slow, the action slower, and in the end the only person laughing is the writer himself.

Gavilian and Calden are called in to solve the quadruple murder at a local nightclub of a budding hip-hop act on the verge of a major breakthrough. With the help of a psychic, a prostitution ring, and sheer dumb luck, they slowly wind their way towards the requisite ending chase scene, the only worthwhile part of the film.

It's amazing, however, that these two even made it to the end at all. Each of them is so busy with his other life that they hardly have time to work on the case at all. Gavilian is desperate to scam the owner of the nightclub, Julius Armas (Master P), into buying the mansion of a washed-up movie producer. Meanwhile, Calden is trying to quit the cop life and become an actor. But that's not the end of the tiresome subplots that interfere with the main mission of the two studs in blue. Actually, this movie is nothing but subplots; they get more screen time than the mystery itself. Gavilian must also face an investigation into his finances led by an upstart inspector with an unhealthy grudge. And, lest we forget one additional cop cliché, Calden searches for the man who killed his father, a former policeman himself.

The film comes to a grinding halt each time Calden or Gavilian take five to muck about in their personal lives. Hollywood Homicide is inundated with decidedly unfunny scenes that interrupt any flow to the film and force the not-quite-dynamic duo apart. Gavilian has cryptic meetings with undercover cops disguised as prostitutes, while Calden greets the morning by rehearsing for his big debut as Stanley in A Streetcar Named Desire. None of these detours help develop the plot or characters and are inserted at random to provide clumsy transitions between the rare moments when, gasp! Calden and Gavilian are actually working on the case.

Perhaps the writer included so many subplots because he realized how empty his main storyline was. From the first fifteen minute the viewer knows whodunit, removing the element of suspense and surprise from the film. Calden and Gavilian don't so much solve the crime as have to the culprit handed to them gift-wrapped on a silver platter and tied with a pretty pink bow. And even with this knowledge, they're still in the dark at the end of the film, forced to rely on the clairvoyant powers of Gavilian's girlfriend Ruby (Lena Olin) to find the bad guys.

Additionally, there are moments in Hollywood Homicide of inappropriate lighthearted treatment of real world problems. For example, confronted with an uncooperative witness, Calden and Gavilian proceed to drive him to a remote location, where presumably they were planning to beat the information out of him. (Conveniently for the film's PG-13 rating, evil henchmen armed with machine guns interrupt them.) Police brutality is a serious issue with the LAPD. Whereas L.A. Confidential had the guts to face and challenge the moral paradox created by the behavior of Hollywood cops, Hollywood Homicide has no qualms about presenting physical violence as an acceptable means of interrogation.

A few, all-too-brief moments of humor occasionally rescue Hollywood Homicide from it's unfocused drudgery. When Gavilian's integrity comes under investigation, both he and Calden are brought in for questioning, the only time Ford's old spark and vibrancy comes to the surface. In addition, the final chase, while not as action-packed as chases in other recent films, like The Italian Job and 2 Fast 2 Furious, is hilarious. When Gavilian is forced to hijack a bicycle from a small child and Calden pursues evil in a crowded minivan, the humor level definitely rises.

However, these few glimpses of comedy prove too little, too late for our boys in blue. Hollywood Homicide mostly resorts to recycling the same gags over and over again, until the show just fizzles out with the same low energy with which it began.

Hollywood Homicide is rated PG-13 for violence, sexual situations, and language



Tags: print

Abigail Graber. Abigail Graber, according to various and sundry ill-conceived Internet surveys: She is: <ul><li>As smart as Miss America and smarter than Miss Washington, D.C., Miss Tennessee, Miss Massachusetts, and Miss New York</I> <li>A goddess of the wind</li> <li>An extremely low threat to the Bush administration</li> <li>Made … More »

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