PLAY IT TO THE BONE (2000) GRADE: C- Director: Ron Shelton Screenplay: Ron Shelton Starring: Woody Harrelson, Antonio Banderas, Lolita Davidovich, Lucy Lui, Tom Sizemore, Robert Wagner PLAY IT TO THE BONE reeks of desperation. It was written and directed by Ron Shelton, who has managed to base his career on creating quality sports films (and think of all the directors who can't make one good sports film). BONE is his first major failure, a movie so derivative that a computer program using only stock parts from past Shelton films could have assembled it. Here we have the girl who is in love with the two completely opposite macho lugs (sounds a bit like BULL DURHAM, and hey, TIN CUP as well). The two macho lugs are made to compete against each other (TIN CUP, WHITE MEN CAN'T JUMP). And the girl really adores both of them but can never decide between the two, presumably because the director can't either (BULL DURHAM). Though Shelton does throw something new at us: This time all his female characters lack substance. BONE is Shelton's own STARDUST MEMORIES, and like the Woody Allen movie, Shelton takes every charming aspect of his work and overdoes it to the point of irritation. Vince (Woody Harrelson) and Ceaser (Antonio Banderas) are two out of work boxers offered a chance to fight each other on an undercard for a Mike Tyson brawl. Okay, why not? A contrivance, or problem, depending on your perspective (I prefer the former) arises. The fight is in Vegas and neither of the two have any cash for airfare. (Forget about maybe asking the fight promoters to forward them the money). So Caesar is hastened into begging his girlfriend, Grace (Lolita Davidovich) for a ride. She agrees, though there is a catch: she is Vince's former girlfriend. And hilarity ensues, right? Wrong. What ensues is a lengthy, been-there-done-that ride through the desert, that had me incessantly thinking, are we there yet? By the time we got there, I was just about to nod off, but thankfully Shelton tosses some much needed (though completely gratuitous) nudity on the screen. Thus, my interest was momentarily sustained. Harrelson and Banderas are essentially doing the same jokey macho schtick Harrelson did with Snipes in WHITE MEN CAN'T JUMP. The actors work well together, but everything they say, and every conflict between them feels manufactured in order to pad out the running time. As characters they are both underdeveloped except for some outrageous quirks that are supposed to be amusing because they are so at odds with the characters other traits. Vince is a womanizing, ex drug addict Jesus freak (he scribbles JESUS LOVES YOU on a bathroom stall, which I admit, is a first), who occasionally envisions Jesus. And, Caesar is a manly, velvety smooth Spaniard who went gay for a year after losing a boxing match. When the dynamic between the three grows tiresome, Shelton introduces another character into the fray, Lia (Lucy Lui), a hitchhiker who practically demands sex once she gets in the car. Lia is little more than a male sex fantasy kept around for a while in order to get the male audience members salivating. Once she abruptly exits the picture, Shelton has Davidovich change into an alluringly slinky red dress with copious amounts of cleavage on display. She even does a slow-motion walk out of the ladies room, while the camera salaciously caresses her body. It's too bad Shelton never gives Davidovich anything to do besides look real hot. She is personality barren except for her love of "mountain striations" (another stupid quirk that I think was supposed to make me chuckle but instead made me check the time on my wristwatch). So how is the fight, you ask? Shelton goes for broke with his finale; techno beats pulsate, the sinewy stars pummel each other into pulpy blobs, casual views of celebrities in the audience (look it's James Woods in some hip gold-tinted sunglasses!), and the aforementioned gratuitous nudity. Now how the hell could a director manage to shove nudity in the middle of a boxing match? Believe it or not, for some inexplicable reason Harrelson envisions silicon enhanced topless ring girls in the midst of his battle. I doubt even Oliver Stone could find meaning in that. Now, I know, maybe I'm being a little hard on what is essentially a very 1980's Don Simpson\Jerry Bruckheimerish buddy movie. What the hell was I expecting, THE PIANO? No, but I was hoping for something a little less formulaic. Shelton is the only director who has in virtually every film pulled off a compelling story (with laughs and pathos) set amidst a sports backdrop. Here he takes the easy way out, cribbing from his own material, as well as including nearly every road movie cliché right down to the very antiquated, American car that is the customary form of transportation in a road movie. Interesting that one of the first releases of the new millennium would feel just as antiquated as that damn car. http://www.geocities.com/incongruity98 (Ron's Movie Reviews)
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