Valentine (2001)

reviewed by
John Beachem

VALENTINE

Review by John Beachem

* * 1/2

Directed by: Jamie Blanks Written by: Tom Savage (novel), Donna Powers, Wayne Powers, Gretchen J. Berg, Aaron Harberts

Remember the boy who everyone teased back in elementary school? Well thirteen years later he sure remembers all those girls who gave him the cold shoulder. Kate Davies (Marley Shelton), Paige Prescott (Denise Richards), Dorothy Wheeler (Jessica Capshaw), and Lily Voight (Jessica Cauffiel) have just learned that one of their old chums from school has been brutally murdered. Said chum had received a threatening valentine signed J.M. only moments before the attack. The girls get to thinking, and decide it could just be that kid, Jeremy, whom they all (except the kindly Kate of course) used to tease. Now suspicions are running rampant as the girls try to decide who Jeremy could really be. Is it Kate's drunken boyfriend Adam (David Boreanaz)? Or how about Dorothy's latest beau, Campbell (Daniel Cosgrove)? Or possibly one of the hundreds of fellows Paige has seduced over the years? Whoever it may be, the girls are getting knocked off one by one, and they'd better find out soon.

My theory remains sound. There is a direct correlation between the number of writers on a movie, and how bad the movie is. One writer, you're in good shape; two, you should still be alright; three, things are looking bleak; four, don't hold your breath waiting for that Oscar; five, you might as well entitle the movie "Bomb." Jamie Blanks' (previously responsible for unleashing Urban Legend on unsuspecting audiences) Valentine nestles itself nicely between those last two options. It's not a complete bomb, but it's about as close as you can get before crossing the line. Nearly all the requisite brainless teen slasher movie elements are present: talentless actors, talentless director, cardboard characters, predictable deaths, painful dialogue. The only things this movie is missing which most slasher flicks contain are cheesy gore and cheesier laughs. The latter is most confusing, since some modern slasher flicks have a certain amusing, self-referential wit; and the others have a certain irritating self referential wit. Valentine, on the other hand, is strangely somber and laughess. The characters appear dreary and depressed even before the murders start, and that tone doesn't let up.

Critiquing the acting "talents" in your average slasher movie is an utterly pointless endeavor at best, yet I feel compelled to subject myself to it once more. What better place to start than with a quick description of Denise Richards' (Wild Things) unique interpretation of acting? Actually, in all seriousness, Denise doesn't do too poorly this time around. Of course, that could be because the majority of her co-stars are somehow even worse than she, but I'll leave that decision up to you. Next up we've got Jessica Cauffiel (Urban Legends: Final Cut) in a slight part, and I'm happy to report that she gives a slight performance. I won't subject you to a description of Jessica Capshaw's (The Love Letter) vain attempts at pretending to act, suffice to say she's in desperate need of coaching, practice, or a new career. Marley Shelton (Sugar & Spice) is adequate.. I suppose.. in her own limited sort of way. I do realize it's asking too much for really good performances in a teen slasher flick, but what can I say, I'm greedy. I won't bother talking about most of the male actors since none of them are given any development beyond "I wanna have sex!" The only exception is David Boreanaz (TV's "Angel"), woefully miscast but still able to give a pretty fair performance.

You'd think four writers and a novelist would be able to think of something resembling an original death scene. Instead we get situations like this (warning, minor spoiler): guy goes down to cellar to light pilot light. He can't get it lit, and we know the killer is down there. What follows is about three minutes of this fool trying to light one match without blowing it out while the soundtrack implies a creeping terror is right behind him. Then... just when he gets it lit.. the killer hits him in the back with an axe and leaves. That's it. Gee guys, how much time did you spend thinking that one up? I wish I could say there was one death scene which stands out, but they all meld together in one mesh of stupidity. We're treated with four or five of these frankly lame murder scenes before the whole thing comes together in an ending which is likely to leave you scratching your head for about five or ten minutes before you decide you just don't care. Don't bother trying to figure out who the killer is, the writers are gracious enough to make this more than a little obvious for the mystery impaired.

Being the nice guy I am, I feel compelled to point out the film's highpoints, few and far between though they may be. There's a vaguely amusing scene between Dorothy and her new step-mother (who it turns out is about Dorothy's age); there's a funny little line where Kate, referring to Adam, says "Sure, he's no Angel."; and granted, some people will no doubt enjoy the death scenes for no other reason than that someone dies in them. Otherwise, the film is bland, boring, pointless, and the definition of everything I've come to expect from modern Hollywood horror writers. If you loved the intellectual challenge of such films as Urban Legend and I Know What You Did Last Summer you'll no doubt get a kick out of this one, no matter what I might say to try and discourage you. Always worthy of mention in a slasher flick is the score, which in this case consists of little more than that foolish "Ka-drum!" sound whenever the audience is supposed to be startled by something like a person walking suddenly in front of the camera. Valentine runs an irritating 96 minutes. I'd recommend the film to those who, for reasons I will never fully comprehend, enjoyed last fall's god awful Urban Legends: Final Cut, and give the film a slightly generous two and a half out of five stars.