MONEY TALKS (New Line) Starring: Chris Tucker, Charlie Sheen, Gerard Ismael, Heather Locklear, Paul Sorvino. Screenplay: Joel Cohen and Alex Sokolow. Producers: Walter Coblenz and Tracey Kramer. Director: Brett Rattner. MPAA Rating: R (profanity, violence, adult themes) Running Time: 93 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
As a public service, I'm going to provide a simple conversion formula to help potential viewers decide whether or not they should see MONEY TALKS: 1) Begin with a base of zero on a 1-10 scale. 2) If you found Chris Tucker a riotous comedic presence in films like FRIDAY and THE FIFTH ELEMENT, add 10 points. 3) If Tucker's every moment on screen during THE FIFTH ELEMENT made you want to tear out your own central nervous system with a shrimp fork, subtract 250,000 points.
Those individuals blissfully unfamiliar with the Chris Tucker oeuvre may be confused at this point. I envy such sweet naivete. Tucker may be the most actively annoying screen presence since...well, "ever" comes to mind. Blessed with a shudder-inducing nasal whine of a voice, Tucker dares the audience to tolerate him by playing characters who simply refuse to shut up. In MONEY TALKS, he plays a motor-mouthed ticket scalper named Franklin Hatchett who gets busted after investigative reporter James Russell (Charlie Sheen) does an expose'. Franklin then ends up in a prison transport with a French smuggler (Gerard Ismael), whose operatives kill both cops and cons in the course of rescuing him. Naturally, Franklin is suspected of being part of the escape plan. Naturally, he seeks out James, though there is no good reason for him to do so when his friends include a major arms dealer. Naturally, James is about to marry into a wealthy family, giving Franklin plenty of opportunities to shake up the upper crust.
And naturally, almost everyone Franklin deals with is a complete idiot. Franklin spends most of MONEY TALKS taking shots at all the corrupt, vennal, brutal and/or criminally stupid white people he encounters. That includes and goes double for Charlie Sheen, whose sole purpose in the film is to stay near Tucker so there is always someone close at hand for him to insult. Considering the number of times Franklin comments on James' posterior -- its narrowness, its whiteness, or its need to be kicked -- you'd think he might have a little crush on the fellow. Of course, just to make sure we know that's not the case, there is a scene in which Franklin rebuffs an aggressively affectionate gay man with whom he shares a jail cell. In an "urban comedy," you'd better make sure the audience knows you find "queers" even more obnoxious than white people.
The amazing thing about MONEY TALKS is that Tucker _still_ manages to play the stupidest and most obnoxious character in the film. There is nothing remotely sympathetic or likeable about Franklin, unless it is that he actually seems to care about his pregnant girlfriend (whom he sweet-talks with a good-natured threat to kick _her_ ass). Apparently Tucker's fans find his routine hysterical; the crowd roared its appreciation at every profanity-packed sentence (Tucker uses over 200 choice epithets during the 93 minutes of MONEY TALKS). They also seemed thrilled every time something blew up, or every time someone got shot. Perhaps that is why watching MONEY TALKS was such a doubly depressing experience. Not only did I have to stomach Tucker's grating presence in the kind of wretched buddy comedy which makes other wretched buddy comedies look inspired, but I shared it with an audience which found high entertainment in the equivalent of RAMBO starring Jerry Lewis with Tourette's syndrome.
Make that triply depressing: if MONEY TALKS is a success, I could be sitting through another Chris Tucker project real soon. When you refer back to the conversion formula above, please amend item #3 to read "subtract 500,000 points." Anyone have a shrimp fork handy?
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 Tucker talks: 1.
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