Perfect Storm

I can imagine how "The Perfect Storm" was sold to the assholes with the cash in Hollywood. They saw it as another movie about people in a boat who die. And in their world "Tragic boat movies are hot!" So, they put their money into this sinking boat full of uninteresting pretty boys playing white trash. They even got James Horner, the John Tesh-like artiste who wrote the brutally shitty music for "Titanic" to crowd this movie with sappy, annoying music.

For me, the next time I want to see this many big waves, I'll have Mrs. Filthy cannonball into the community pool. It'll be cheaper and more entertaining.

George Clooney is a swordfish boat captain on a run of bad luck. His crew isn't making any money and he is getting shit from his boss about how much he sucks. When his ego gets the best of him, he heads out for one last trip to prove his boss and crew wrong, even though it's October and the ocean is dangerous and stormy.

There are many shots of the women left behind when the boys go out. Their panties are all bunched up and they yammer a lot, worried the boys won't survive. Then there are lots of scenes of the boys catching fish and not catching fish. But mostly, this movie is about big waves getting them wet. The crew has the dilemma of waiting out the storm and spoiling their cargo hull of fish, or to go right through it, risk death and get back while they can still sell the fish.

All the waves and water make some great scenes. They look real and threatening and they probably would have made a great climax if Director Wolfgang Peterson had used them for the last fifteen minutes. As it is, though, these waves just keep coming and coming and it gets really fucking boring after the 60th shot of the boat crashing into water. It's like only having one porno in your collection; the action gets old fast. And just like a porno, this movie would have benefited from some hot big-tittied girl-on-girl action.

"The Perfect Storm" might even have been scary if the audience didn't already know that everyone dies. It's paced exactly like every "guys in trouble in space" movie, continuously cutting to the women in the bar sitting around and fretting.

But I didn't fret. Part of the problem is the corn the actors barf up every time they speak. Even as they're drowning, Wahlberg and Clooney are puking up lines about how much respect and love they have. What fucking nonsense. If I was drowning, I would be filling my pants with shit. The other problem with "The Perfect Storm" is that it's hard for me to get all worked up about a bunch of stupid commercial fishermen who put themselves in harm's way for money. No matter how expensive this movie was, commercial fishing just isn't very romantic or interesting.

Neither are these characters. I'm more fascinated by the guy with the hook-hand at the Arvada Tavern who sits at the end of the bar and throws peanuts at me. John C. Reilly, normally a great fucking actor, is the cliched father who hates to leave his son to go to sea. One scene oozes more sap than an untended head-wound; it is meant to make sure we all understand he is a good father and we should hope he does not die so that we can later be disappointed. This scene is even more painful since this son is played by a worse actor than has-been Jake Lloyd.

Marky Mark has unfortunate facial hair and the slightest wisp of a romantic life waiting for him at home. If Hollywood thinks America likes watching white-trash love, why don't they plant a camera near the dumpster behind the Arvada Tavern to film the dry-humping that goes on? That's where hook-hand goes at it with the harelip.

Clooney is a boring, squinting sea captain who doesn't once say "Arrggh," or give a cracker to a parrot. This role is a landmark performance for him because he not only squints and smiles smugly, but also hollers several times. Clooney needs to accept that the one role he is suited for is "Magnum P.I. 2000" That way he can let a mustache do the real acting for him.

There are a dozen other characters who make no impact. The movie desperately wants us to feel connected, but it gives us quantity, not quality. There are too many little characters like ex-wives, ambiguous girlfriends, mothers, bosses and an annoying weatherman. The hope is we'll somehow give a rat's ass about the victims.

"The Perfect Storm" is made with great attention to detail and it is much more honest to the job it portrays than, say, "Ace Ventura." All those animatronic fish and lovingly filmed scenes of fishing lines being cast out were a big waste of dough. Hollywood deserves credit for trying, but it all comes across as an annoying party guest who just finished a book and now thinks he's an expert.

James Horner's music for the film is the same Goddamn bar played over and over. Jesus on a kaiser roll Christ, it was annoying after ten minutes and it just keeps coming at you like the waves, getting bigger and scarier. It's terrible, sappy music that doesn't even relate to the screen half the time.

And the movie has a bizarre ending. After all the actors drown and I was ready to leave, "The Perfect Storm" keeps going. The movie gives us a funeral where actors playing townspeople praise the actors playing dead fisherman. It feels tacked on, unnecessary and the ultimate in Hollywood's insincerity. I mean, I can see crying about an actor playing someone who dies, but throwing a Goddamn phony funeral for your dead actors? Why bother.

Two fingers for "The Perfect Storm." It deserves some credit for being a very expensive movie about something nobody really gives a fuck about. I guess that's the hallmark of Clooney's career.