200 CIGARETTES (1999)
A Film Review by Ted Prigge
Copyright 1999 Ted Prigge
Director: Risa Bramon Garcia
Writer: Shana Larsen
Starring: Christina Ricci, Paul Rudd, Courtney Love, Ben Affleck, Gaby Hoffman, Casey Affleck, Jay Mohr, Kate Hudson, Martha Plimpton, Brian McCardie, Angela Featherstone, Nicole Parker, David Chapelle, Janeane Garafolo, Guillermo Diaz, Elvis Costello
So I guess this kind of film has rubbed off onto the indie crowd as well, eh? Though they've always been made, the kind of retro-John Hughes kind of film only came back into popularity amongst everyone else a couple years ago, I suppose thanks to "Scream," the first film to really bring back that whole 80s feel, albeit with a sharp, self-conscious twist that made it admittingly enjoyable (too bad, I guess, that the sequel blew). Then came the traditional Hughes-ian films, like the dreadful "Can't Hardly Wait" of the previous summer (currently collecting dust on my top 10 worst list of the year), and now this whole trend has come to us courtesy of a ginormous cast of actors who work nearly exclusively in the independent film circuit, and whose range of actual acting talent spans the spectrum of "annoying" (Casey Affleck, as from my experience of him in "Good Will Hunting") to "pretty damn great (Christina Ricci, obviously). It's too bad that the only thing that differentiates this film from another film like it is that instead of godawful actors taking the helm (oh, Jennifer Love Hewitt...), it's these guys making asses of themselves.
If nothing, "200 Cigarettes" proves that even if you put a mighty cast of Indie actors in one movie together, Altman-esqueness or not, you're still going to come up with a relatively shallow, mostly unwitty, albeit minorly-energetic movie. It's like if "Nashville" had been set during a certain time to only sell records, was populated by characateurs, and had the depth of insight as a petri dish. The characters in this film are flat, under-developed, and worst of all, smug and hip - this film contains about 20 characters, but all of three, maybe four, are evenly remotely interesting, mostly thanks to the actors who inhabit them with their own self-created aspects. Not a very good omen when you're trying to make a film that's overly an hour and a half.
The film, though basically plotless, follows a large group of people, usually in small groups, trying to get to a certain party. There's two Long Island teens (Ricci and her pal, Gaby Hoffman, unrecognizable to me until the final reel) up in the city sans their parents' knowledge, but unaware where the party's supposed to take place who run into some young punk fans (Casey Affleck and Guillermo Diaz) who at first frighten them then win them over, sorta (as a side note, I hereby officially deem the Long Island accent the single most annoying accent on the face of the planet earth). There's a birthday-plagued, morose guy (Paul Rudd) who was just dumped by his performance artist girlfriend (Janeane Garafolo), on the town with his best bud (Courtney Love), who offers herself as a birthday present to him to cheer him up. There's a clumsy, young deb (Kate Hudson, daughter to Goldie Hawn) who's out with the guy who robbed her of her virginity the night before (Jay Mohr). There's a bartender (Ben Affleck), who's being constantly eyeballed but never followed through with. There's two girls (Nicole Parker and Angela Featherstone) who are going to the party with the one's Scot boyfriend (Brian McCardie), who is then dumped beforehand. And there's the Scot's ex (Martha Plimpton), the girl who's throwing the party. This is all tied together by a joyful cabbie (Dave Chapelle), who ends up giving at least most of them a ride during the film, and dispenses a bit of advice free of charge.
It's all incredibly fake, and not only does every single plot thread seem like it'd fit in comfortably with a sitcom on NBC, it also feels incredibly cliched and reminiscent of something else that wasn't much fun the first time around. And of the entire cast, several of them very good actors, only three make any kind of impression: Rudd, who merely shows that he's one of the more charismatic and likable actors around once again; Love, who shows that she can do fluff as well as more dramatic stuff; and Hudson, the biggest surprise of the movie, who gives if not a minor-star-making performance, at least a memorable one. She posesses something that's not unlike her own mother's early charm: she's flustered, cute, and unpredicatable, and whenever she was on screen, I was always interested in seeing what bizarre nuance she'd come up with next, and was for the most part pleased. Everyone else, though, is just so-so, even Ricci, usually the only good thing amongst a pile of crap (see, or rather don't see, "Pecker"), though both Afflecks turn in at least aimable performances (Casey, in fact, was much more digestable here than in "Hunting" - a couple more roles, and he could be even above average someday). But everyone else slips into dullsville, sacked with lame roles that require them to spout bad dialogue and go through cheap, petty emotions, and, well, smoke cigarettes (haven't seen smoking this fake since Faye Dunaway in "Bonnie and Clyde").
And I could very well go on from here, blasting every part of it, destroying everything that this film stands for, point out that the sole reason this takes place in the 80s is for a cheap, retro feel, and make hyperbolic statements like "'200 Cigarettes' represents the dreg of our country's filmmaking capacity and the low end of the indie field"...but I shan't, because, truth be told, I nearly liked this film. The opening almost killed it immediately, and its introduction to our cast of characters was hardly at all proimising. But after awhile, as slight as the film as a whole was, it grew on me, and even if I wasn't flat-out enjoying it, I was at least occasionally grimacing and even chuckling here and there at things I just knew I shouldn't dare chuckle at. Even with terrible dialogue and bad subplots throughout that weren't tres involving, it has an energy that makes up for a bit of the crapness of the whole, even if it only makes up for about half of it. The performances were genuinely likable by all, if not too memorable, and I was shocked to see that I soon started caring about the whole Rudd/Love subplot, and that I was soon looking forward to it coming up again via the plot rotation.
But there's still more to not like than to like here, and all I can say is that though it's not annoying like "Can't Hardly Wait" or other Hughes-ian films, it's not exactly a wonderful, even totally likable flick. Not more than week after seeing it, I'm surprised that I can remember so much about it. Luckily, it's mostly the stuff that I did like about it (Love, Rudd, Hudson, for instance), 'cause otherwise it'd be a pretty much all scathing review. As such, it's nearly a guilty pleasure, and my subsequent rating seems balls-out generous for a movie I nearly despised if it hadn't become so progressively likable.
MY RATING (out of 4): **
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