KISS THE GIRLS (Paramount - 1997) Starring Morgan Freeman, Ashley Judd, Cary Elwes Screenplay by David Klass, based on the novel by James Patterson Produced by David Brown, Joe Wizan Directed by Gary Fleder Running time: 120 minutes
** (out of four stars)
Alternate Rating: C-
Note: Some may consider portions of the following text to be spoilers. Be forewarned.
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In terms of filmgoing, there is little which wounds the heart more than watching an accomplished talent having their services wasted in an unambitious film project. It was maddening enough to suffer through Mira Sorvino wallowing through a determinedly generic MIMIC a few months ago, but the suspense-thriller KISS THE GIRLS is a far more egregious offender, ensnaring the stellar talents of Morgan Freeman and Ashley Judd in a formulaic film which proves to be far beneath them.
I sat through the screening stupefied, bewildered as to what could have drawn these two gifted performers to this project. Mr. Freeman is surely one of the truly great actors currently working -- his mere presence onscreen commands attention like no other American actor, and his marvelously expressive voice conveys bountiful wisdom. Meanwhile, Ms. Judd is one of today's most exciting young actors, turning in a flurry of astonishingly accomplished performances since her feature film debut in Victor Nunez's RUBY IN PARADISE -- not even the sheer brevity of her turns in Wayne Wang's SMOKE and Oliver Stone's NATURAL BORN KILLERS (where her footage was ultimately excised for the domestic theatrical release) could prevent her from outshining the vast majority of lead performances seen in recent film. What on earth could these two have seen in KISS THE GIRLS which would have drawn them to the film?
It surely couldn't have been David Klass' screenplay, which is woefully uninspired and formulaic -- one can literally tick off every tired convention in KISS THE GIRLS like a checklist. The film opens most unpromisingly with the obligatory scene to establish the prowess of Washington D.C. forensic psychologist Alex Cross (he faces a suicidal woman) -- which, incidentally, seems rather superfluous with Mr. Freeman onboard as the character; it goes without saying that the instant he appears onscreen, the audience immediately associates his character with supreme competency -- and continues to throw in every hoary staple of the serial killer thriller genre: the stakeouts, the taunting messages from the killer, the near-captures, chase scenes galore, preferably on foot in some gloomy, obstacle-ridden area. To capitalize on the cyber-craze, there's even an Internet reference (although thankfully it's not as overblown as it was in Jon Amiel's otherwise superior genre entry COPYCAT). While it's bad enough that the screenplay by Mr. Klass is so by-the-numbers, what's even worse is the lack of interesting or inventive dialogue to buoy the film; in every aspect, this is a remarkably bland script.
Many have drawn parallels between Mr. Freeman's similar character types in David Fincher's SE7EN (where he plays veteran homicide detective Somerset) and in KISS THE GIRLS, but despite their shared genre, there is clearly no comparison between these two vastly disparate films in terms of effectiveness -- only one of these films generates anything remotely close to resembling a facsimile of suspense or tension. It's rather abysmal that the inherently gruesome situation of a crazed abductor on the prowl can wind up being so bla, and rather amazing that the film's protagonists do not prove to be compelling, even when they're placed into jeopardy. One ends up watching KISS THE GIRLS with a great deal of disinterest.
KISS THE GIRLS focuses on the hunt for a North Carolina man (who goes by the name Casanova) that "collects": he methodically stalks, kidnaps, imprisons and rapes (and occasionally kills) young, pretty, college-age women. The film attempts to intrigue by teasing at the killer's identity; until the film's climax, his face is systematically obscured, although anyone not lulled by the film's sheer familiarity into a comatose state should realise his identity within the first fifteen minutes (and, if not, the tactless lingering shots on Casanova's alter-ego by sophomore feature film director Gary Fleder should be a sure giveaway), but one can hardly even care who he is, given the lacklustre attention paid to him in the film. For a serial killer/rapist film, KISS THE GIRLS is mighty disinterested in the serial killer; Casanova's actions are obviously supposed to be construed as monstrous and lurid, and yet the film distinctly neglects him and never really delves its focus into his twisted world. We can't even really stir up much compassion for his captives either, as we barely see them onscreen and they barely register. When one contrasts Brooke Smith's terrifying struggle in the well in Jonathan Demme's THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS with KISS THE GIRLS' group of imprisoned girls catatonically assembled in the killer's chamber of horrors while Alex's niece Naomi Cross (Gina Ravera) plays the violin, it is clear how much the filmmakers here have missed the mark. Even the subterranean dungeon, glimpsed all-too-briefly, lacks any foreboding aura of dread or menace.
Kate McTiernan (Ms. Judd) is a interning med student who's snatched from her home by Casanova in the early goings, and locked into a dungeon-like cell. Forbidden to call for help and warned not to try to use any of her kickboxing arsenal on him, she naturally does both. (The scene in the dungeon where Kate persuades her unseen fellow captives to reluctantly call out their names in an act of defiance to Casanova is meant to be powerfully haunting and creepy, but frankly reminded me of a television commercial.) After Kate unloads on Casanova and manages to escape from the dungeon, she finds herself in a madly dashing through a nondescript barren forest, her abductor in hot pursuit. Even Kate's flee through the woods, clearly intended to echo the similar scene in Tobe Hooper's classic THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE, is merely a pale imitation: the sequence in Mr. Hooper's film depicted terror in its most primal form; in KISS THE GIRLS, it just looks like cinematographer Aaron Schneider kept falling over.
In fact, Mr. Fleder, whose first film was THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU'RE DEAD, seems to be a fan of using disorientation as a substitute for dynamism, both in Kate's escape scene and in her kickboxing scenes, where a flurry of shots of flying fists, swinging legs, and sweaty torsos make do in place of a choreographed, simple-to-follow kinetic sequence. It's distracting and nonsensical, and ultimately makes for rather aggravating viewing.
By the climax of KISS THE GIRLS, I had gone from shaking my head in disbelief to holding it in disgust, as the heroes and the villain face off in typical fashion, and seem to lose 50 I.Q. points along the way. The predictable battle-to-the-death conclusion is tired material, and this film takes the policy of dispatching the villain in an original fashion to ridiculous new ends; as the heroic music swelled in its aftermath, it was all I could do from laughing aloud.
There are a lot of leaps in the storyline for KISS THE GIRLS, and numerous characters who essentially serve no point are are probably carry-overs from the novel (which, clearly, I haven't read). The film's strengths are predictable -- the performances of Mr. Freeman and Ms. Judd, who customarily turn in solid, professional work and manage to elevate the film to near-mediocrity; they're literally the only reason to catch KISS THE GIRLS.
So why did Mr. Freeman and Ms. Judd sign on for this project? I'm guessing here, but it's probably the case that they were both fans of James Patterson's best-selling novel, which served as the source material for the screenplay. I, however, would like to delude myself into believing that they had signed onto this project for the opportunity to work with each other, and that consequently KISS THE GIRLS didn't end up being a complete waste for them.
- Alex Fung
email: aw220@freenet.carleton.ca
web : http://www.ncf.carleton.ca/~aw220/
-- Alex Fung (aw220@freenet.carleton.ca) | http://www.ncf.carleton.ca/~aw220/ "I'll never forget you. You're too weird." - David Krumholtz, ADDAMS FAMILY VALUES
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