KISS THE GIRLS ** (out of four) a review by Bill Chambers WARNING-SPOILERS
starring Morgan Freeman, Ashley Judd, Cary Elwes, Jay O. Sanders screenplay by David Klass, based on the novel by James Patterson directed by Gary Fleder
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Morgan Freeman teamed with Brad Pitt in the best movie of 1995, David Fincher's neo-noir Se7en. (I can't believe I just used a bullshit term like "neo-noir".) Just two years later, America's Best Actor is headlining another serial killer chiller thriller, but in Kiss The Girls, he takes an unfortunate step backwards from shock to schlock.
Freeman stars as Alex Cross, a forensic psychologist who points out, presumably for police terminology-challenged audience members, that his job is to figure out "the how's and why's." When his niece is kidnapped in North Carolina's Research Triangle by a deranged killer who calls himself Casanova, Cross assists the small-town homicide detectives in tracking down the murderer's whereabouts. Assisting Cross is Kate, the woman who got away (Judd), a doctor who, like each of the victims, is young and gorgeous, but not as weak.
By the third scene, the screenplay isn't working: why, exactly, did the filmmakers choose to have Cross travel from Washington to North Carolina instead of setting the case in his hometown, since the shift in location does little to slow down his investigation? More ridiculous contrivances abound. At one point, Cross believes he has discovered the killer's identity, and he decides to tail him for an evening. All evidence then has it that this is their guy. So, they stake out his home, armed with guns. Who does? A S.W.A.T. team, perhaps? No, just Cross and two police officers, with the perky Kate waiting in the car. Casanova is one of the most wanted men in America; the F.B.I. have been trying to capture him for months, yet it never occurs to Cross and company to call for back-up. The outcome is both tragic and idiotic.
Most unbelievably is that the hick cops (no pun intended) and the F.B.I. are always waiting for the next body to show up. Why? Because the dead women always appear in the same place, a nice little Miller's Crossing-y section of a forest. So why aren't any of them patrolling this area instead of twiddling their thumbs? Worse, they can't find Casanova's hideout; how many dungeons can there be in these woodlands?
The characters are as lazily conceived as the plot. Can we please have a moratorium on will-they-or-won't-they black man-white woman relationships, a la The Pelican Brief? Had this film featured Harrison Ford in the role of Cross, you can bet your eight-fifty he'd have bedded Kate by the end of act two. Cross, we assume, is intelligent, authoritative and wise, but only because Morgan Freeman is playing him. Ashley Judd, an agreeable screen presence, unfortunately lacks Freeman's worldliness, so Kate remains a nice but bland girl-next-door type who goes kickboxing after work.
Director Fleder made the little seen but delightful Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead. Kiss The Girls does shine at times, too: Freeman's first scene, in which he talks a suicidal woman out of shooting herself, is a great way to introduce his character. And the opening credit sequence is outstanding (though it continues a dispiriting trend, a la Mimic, of having opening titles more involving and inventive than any scenes in the film that follows them). Fleder has some visual flair, but so what? Kiss The Girls is littered with overblown, over-directed scenes, too many supporting characters, too many plot holes... Denver was pretty well written: witty, sad and scary. It's clear that Fleder is a craftsman, only as strong as his script.
Ah, but Morgan Freeman... why he would be attracted to this material, especially so soon after appearing in the defining masterpiece of the genre, is curious. But he does more than just make Kiss The Girls watchable whenever he's on screen; he makes it compelling, and he deserves better.
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