When exactly did spy thrillers become about guys outrunning fireballs, avalanches, and thousands upon thousands of bullets? There was a time when movie spies spent most of their time probing, investigating, thinking on their feet, and killing only when necessary. That is why I loved The Bourne Identity so much earlier this summer. Yes, Matt Damon's Jason Bourne kicked butt and outraced bad guys in fast cars. But it was the four or five instances where the guy had to solve a problem or get out of jam using his instincts and his smarts that made the movie work so well.
For years now, my main complaint about the Pierce Brosnan James Bond movies was that they have been getting away from the spy games played in From Russia With Love, Goldfinger, For Your Eyes Only, and The Living Daylights. They were about Bond dodging machine-gun fire, helicopter blades, and gigantic flaming explosions at every turn. They're terrific fireworks shows, and Brosnan is a terrific 007, but he has yet to make a truly great Bond movie.
Now comes XXX, a hulked-up spy film starring Vin Diesel as Xander Cage, a thrill seeker who makes his money selling video footage of himself performing death-defying feats. Samuel L. Jackson of the National Security Agency sees this footage and says, "This XXX guy will make a great f%*#-ing secret agent!" Oh, yeah. Forget about needing to learn eight different languages, being familiar with every foreign culture, and becoming adept at all agency-issued technology. The guy has muscles, tattoos (everyone has tattoos in XXX), and he can parachute out of a car that has plunged off a bridge and live to tell the tale. That's good enough for the NSA. Well almost. First, XXX will need to prove himself further by surviving a couple of adrenaline-fueled thrill "tests." And, of course, everything will be set to throbbing synthesizers and ear-splitting electric guitars.
XXX has its pluses. The action is outlandish (the avalanche sequence alone is worth the price of a matinee admission), and believability is the furthest thing from the filmmakers' minds.The ratio of stuntmen to executive producers, associate producers, and screenwriters on this project is at least 20 to 1. And that's to say nothing of the small army of CGI techs from Digital Domain who labored to make all the chases and stunts look appropriately unbelievable. So, there is good eye candy. And XXX actually features a minor character named Senator Dick Hotchkiss, played by Tom Everett. That's good for one gold star right there.
But I dunno. The whole thing left me a bit numb. I was never once emotionally or intellectually engaged by the story about a group of Euro-trash anarchists looking to use biological weapons to start World War III. XXX is abysmally written by Rich Wilkes. He gives Diesel only a few really keeper lines. Most of the film consists of lines like: "Catch him fast! Kill him slow!"
Now granted XXX does have THE Hot Hollywood Action Stud of the moment right now. Being a guy and imagining yourself in a car chase with a dude named Vin Diesel is about as cool as being a girl and losing your virginity to a guy named Rip Torn. Vin has the muscles, the looks, and the attitude (or, excuse me, the 'tude) to go toe to toe with the Rock and all of the other successors to Schwarzenegger and Stallone. He looks like Mr. Clean on steroids. I guess I'm just not completely sold on the guy yet as a major movie star. Four years ago, he was the first guy to get punked on the mission to save Private Ryan, and now he is the guy we look to save the world?!
Not quite.
That and I have never really been into the extreme sports craze. Rollerblading, snowboarding, skeet surfing. I'm just not that guy. I mean, one time I jumped down three steps instead of two, because I was late for a movie. But, I guess, that's not really living on the edge, is it? Then, there was the time I went into the 10-items-or-less express lane at the supermarket with 12 items and never once looked at the other people in line. I was unstoppable that day. But harpooning a submarine loaded with chemical agents that's headed for Prague and then jumping off just before it explodes? Not Durgin. SO not Durgin.
Ah well. If Vin Diesel is XXX, I guess you can call me "PG."
XXX is actually rated PG-13 for violence, language, sensuality, drug references, and non-stop action sequences filmed from 30 different angles.
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