Thursday, June 19, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: My big fat green psychodrama

The Hulk is an intriguing mix of drama and action

The Marvel comic book world isn't for the fainthearted. It's a place filled with deeply conflicted, tortured heroes with profound powers and equally profound sadness. With lesser talents (think Daredevil writer-director Mark Steven Johnson and star Ben Affleck) the protagonist and stories become dumbed-down, overblown spectacles lacking depth. But when critically acclaimed filmmakers like Bryan Singer or Ang Lee take the helm, something wonderful happens. Like Singer's X-Men and X2: X-Men United, The Hulk is an intriguing psychodrama with crowd-pleasing, action-packed interludes.

With some imaginative tweaking, Lee (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, The Ice Storm) harkens back to The Incredible Hulk's comic book roots and steers clear of the insipid CBS TV series (1977-81). As in the original publication, created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, Bruce Banner (Eric Bana) is an emotionally distant, repressed soul because of the "sins" of his father (Nick Nolte). He nonetheless functions as a brilliant scientist, working with fellow biotechnologist/love interest Betty Ross (Jennifer Connelly), the daughter of a powerful general (Sam Elliott). When Banner is accidentally exposed to high doses of gamma radiation, the rage within becomes the beast without. Soon the government, a greedy corporate type (Josh Lucas) and even Bruce's father seek to exploit, then destroy the green-skinned behemoth whose strength and power to heal are beyond measure.

The highest compliment that can be paid to Lee, the cast and writers James Schamus and John Turman is that they bring a thoughtful reality to a fantastic situation. The characters and their relationships are artfully presented as compelling mixtures of love, hate, fear, regret, ambition and madness.

Also, Lee pays delightful homage to the artistic stylings of the comics, with panels, fades, closeups and split screens, making The Hulk a testament to the director's versatility and the enduring allure of Marvel.--Tammy McMahan

Writer's schlock

More than any other genre, the romantic comedy is the most difficult to pull off. To work, it requires not only charismatic stars, but stars with the common touch. They must have mutual chemistry, a believable attraction and a cute way with snappy dialogue. To say that Alex & Emma fails on all counts may be accurate, but also unfair; because these films demand something that nowadays is almost impossible to achieve: a sense of sexual challenge.

In the time of Preston Sturges and Howard Hawks, a great deal of the humor derived from the fact that sex was subtext. Propriety dictated that Rock Hudson conceal his sexual arousal with wisecracks and Doris Day hide hers beneath suits as rigid as girdles. But when we're forced to watch Emma (Kate Hudson) fall to her knees before Alex (Luke Wilson) and gamely blow on the damp crotch of his Dockers, we're more likely to feel queasy than amused; and when the height of Alex's wit is to scream about his "burnt balls," his desirability as a suitor for anyone other than Kelly Osbourne is hard to imagine.

The trailers cover the whole setup: Writer Alex hires stenographer Emma to type a book he must write in 30 days. This requires that we listen to insufferable chunks of the "book" in voice-over, while Wilson and Hudson play the "characters." (Hudson's attempts at a Swede, a German, an Italian and an Englishwoman are painful evidence she's failed to inherit her mother's slapstick gene.) Jeremy Leven's script is unforgivably sluggish and completely witless; and Wilson and Hudson are less believable as lovers than Bill and Hillary Clinton.

Director Rob Reiner has already made two excellent romantic comedies: When Harry Met Sally and, better, The Sure Thing. Both are available on video--which is where Alex & Emma should have gone. Directly.--Jeannette Catsoulis