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Phillip Noyce's (The Saint) adaptation of Jeffrey Deaver's bestseller is a clunky effort that could have been much better under a decent director's care. Denzel Washington stars as a decorated cop that became paralyzed in the line of duty. Bedridden, he tries to catch a serial killer using an inexperienced female officer as his vessel to catch the murderer in this sloppy whodunit.
Washington (The Siege) plays Lincoln Rhyme, who is not only a successful New York City police officer but the author of several true-crime books as well. The film opens with Rhyme bravely trying to rescue a trapped citizen, only to be hit with a falling hunk of metal that nearly cuts him in half. Four years later, Rhyme is still technically a member of the police force, although he can move only his head, one shoulder and, for some reason, the index finger of his right hand, which he uses to operate several computers and televisions while he is confined to his bed. He also has seizures with increasing frequency and is terrified that a big one could leave him like a vegetable. Apparently he hasn't seen himself act lately.
Meanwhile, the killer is a cabbie and each fare is a potential victim. We see him pick up a ritzy white couple at the airport. They want to go to 5th Avenue, but instead he takes them into a desolate neighborhood while they desperately try to escape from the backseat. Couldn't they call for help? I'm thinking that the odds of picking up New Yorkers without a cell phone are staggering, as is the likelihood of the existence of that perfectly straight road he sped down with no lights, stop signs, traffic or pedestrians.
The man's body is discovered by Amelia Donaghy (Angelina Jolie, Pushing Tin), a child-model-turned-beat-cop that plans to be transferred to the less-exciting Youth Services Division. The evidence she finds - white powder, a newspaper clipping, a large bolt and a page number torn from a book – are taken to Rhyme, where he is able to quickly determine the exact time and place of the murderer's next act. Unlikely? You bet. This is explained away by having Rhyme well-versed in the history of the city. Right. And monkeys might fly out of my butt.
While confined to bed, Rhyme sends Donaghy to each crime scene as they try to gain ground on the killer. He instructs her in what evidence to look for, relying on her eyes and ears as he tries to avoid having control of the investigation wrestled away by Captain Howard Cheney (Michael Rooker, The Replacement Killers). At one point, Cheney is kept at bay by Rhyme's live-in nurse Thelma (Queen Latifah, Living out Loud). Nurse Latifah is actually the acting high-point of Collector.
Washington is better than he has been lately, which isn't saying much. I hear he's very good in The Hurricane, which arrives in theaters in January, but I'll believe it when I see it. Jolie isn't bad in her role, but her attractiveness is almost distracting. Other than her, the other highlights are the dazzling overhead shots of New York City. The bland cast of co-stars include Ed O'Neill (Married with Children), Luis Guzmán (OZ), Leland Orser (Very Bad Things) and Mike McGlone (She's the One). I'm sure the book was much better.
Comparisons to Silence of the Lambs will be inevitable, as the experienced but immobile Washington guides the still-wet-behind-the-ears Jolie to the murderer. Instead, Collector seems more like See No Evil, Hear No Evil, where a blind guy (Richard Pryor) and a deaf guy (Gene Wilder) try to solve a murder. Collector will likely be compared to Se7en as well, but its staged murder scenes are not nearly as disturbing as David Fincher's serial-killer benchmark. Neither of these films offered a red herring as poorly as in Collector.
1:58 - R for strong violent content including grisly images, and for language
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