THE SKULLS (no stars)
Director: Rob Cohen Writer: John Pogue Cast: Joshua Jackson, Paul Walker, Craig T. Nelson, Leslie Bibb PG-13, 106 minutes
What's the quickest way to sink a movie? You could give Craig T. Nelson awkward, burly facial hair for one. Yet there are faster ways. Efficiently emulating John Pogue's tedious script for the latest insipid work of Neal H. Moritz and company would work. Moritz's production crew brought you last year's infamous "Cruel Intentions". Both share ridiculous premises and unsatisfying conclusions. What else is there to say? The focus of intrigue shifts from rampant sex in this one, and there's no Sarah Michelle Gellar or Ryan Phillippe to somewhat save things. Despite cute smiles, Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker do not carry this movie, and with the job going to incapable supporting actors and director, it's an endless 106-minute work of continuing stupidity and boredom.
Rather than treat these "characters" with actual human names very much contrary to their fake emotions, names will not be included in this summary.
An annoyingly ambitious high school guy (Joshua Jackson) meets a gym-head boxer from a prestigious family (Paul Walker) at a famous university. Punching Bag's father (Craig T. Nelson) is the head of a campus secret society called the Skulls, which provides seemingly limitless opportunities for its exclusive pick of members. It's the country's largest male clique. After some luck in bizarre initiation ceremonies, Red Gloves and Irksome Scholar become best friends and even "skull-mates". Oh yes, skull-mates. Together they reap benefits of membership which include, but are not limited to sports cars, blank checks, rising grades, and bevies of whores. Somehow, no young dumb character figures out that heaps of dirty dealings are going on behind the scenes. Only when a close friend is murdered do the duo and other new Skulls come to their senses and wonder about the group's moral activities. Danger engulfs the friends. Will one man honor his father and the club, or his friend? Will the other stick with the popular people, or obey his conscience? Is there any escape from this dreadful plot?
Director Rob Cohen could have saved half of this with a simple, shameless exploitation of his main actors. A cheerfully bad Hollywood teen sex escapade hadn't happened since, well, "Cruel Intentions". The actors serve as nothing more than eye candy (with "Popular's" Leslie Bibb filling the brainless female role) since the actors have miniscule talents. The lengths to keep this PG-13 get annoying. Then again, a more adult version of "Skulls" would completely lose its target audience. This is the perfect video pick for that plucky teenage girl whose brain has received long-term abuse from abrasive foreign lip-glosses that you know. No other group of thinking, breathing human beings should give wide praise for this thing. Unless they, of course, are under the influence of some illegal substance smuggled across the border.
An example of possible adult praise: "Wow! That suggestively sweaty young man looks positively like he's reading a cue card." And that's trying hard.
Does this seem a little mean-spirited? Well then it's accurate. With skull-banging inane dialogue, vapid performances, plodding pace, and stark predictability this is easily the stinker of the season. It leaves a mood of disappointment, because like most bad movies, it could have been great. This piece triggers much anger from within for the California film gods. A movie is all in the execution, as most know. Too bad someone didn't kill this one in time.
One almost expects Gillian Anderson's character from "The X-Files" to show up as a bad pun, but alas, no. Christopher McDonald does show up for added pain in viewing though.
A film review by Frankie Paiva. Copyright 2000 Frankie Paiva.
See more of my reviews at http://cinemaparadise.homestead.com/mainpage.html
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