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8MM
8MM is an overindulgent and over the top "thriller" from 1999 that attempts Hitchcock-like suspense but found me stifling the occasional yawn due to a swiss cheese screenplay, lethargic direction, and an overwrought performance from its leading mam.
Tom Wells (Nicolas Cage) is a private investigator who is hired by a billionaire's widow to verify the authenticity of an alleged snuff film the woman found in her husband's vault. Her primary interest is that Wells find out if the young woman in the film is alive because she appears to have been murdered in the film.
Considering the subject matter, this film should have been a lot more interesting than it was, yet on the other hand, that might have been exactly the problem...pornography on film itself is a dead industry and the idea of the underground snuff film is practically an urban legend, but apparently someone thought that a story revolving around underground porn would be titillating enough to make a compelling film.
Unfortunately, Andrew Kevin Walker's screenplay is not as complex as he thinks it is and has plot holes you can drive a truck through. I was confused by the fact that this wealthy widow was more concerned about the girl in this film than she was about why her husband had the film in the first place. Not to mention, the unlimited financial assistance she provides Wells to get to the bottom of this and as confused as Wells was, I had figured out a major part of what was going on about ten minutes in and that's not good when you're dealing with a film that's two hours long. It's hard to get behind this detective as well. When he's at home pretending not to smoke in front of his devoted wife (Catherine Keener), he appears to be all about his family, who he ends up practically throwing under a bus in favor of this investigation.
Joel Schumacher's leaden directorial hand is no help either, telegraphing everything that's going to happen with the camera rather than letting the story do its part of the work. Schumacher's frantic camerawork should have made for a more economic story, but somehow this film is still about 20 minutes longer than it needs to be. Schumacher should have spent a little less time trying to be Hitchcock and concentrated on his actors a little more. Nicolas Cage is a startling combination of stone-faced and overwrought here and even James Gandolfini grated on my nerves. I did enjoy Joaquin Phoenix as an adult bookstore employee and Peter Stormare as the bad guy, but this movie was just too much of everything, produced unintentional laughs, and it went on forever. Even the music was creepy and intrusive. I suspect it's movies like this one that led to all the Cage hate I see on this site.
8MM is an overindulgent and over the top "thriller" from 1999 that attempts Hitchcock-like suspense but found me stifling the occasional yawn due to a swiss cheese screenplay, lethargic direction, and an overwrought performance from its leading mam.
Tom Wells (Nicolas Cage) is a private investigator who is hired by a billionaire's widow to verify the authenticity of an alleged snuff film the woman found in her husband's vault. Her primary interest is that Wells find out if the young woman in the film is alive because she appears to have been murdered in the film.
Considering the subject matter, this film should have been a lot more interesting than it was, yet on the other hand, that might have been exactly the problem...pornography on film itself is a dead industry and the idea of the underground snuff film is practically an urban legend, but apparently someone thought that a story revolving around underground porn would be titillating enough to make a compelling film.
Unfortunately, Andrew Kevin Walker's screenplay is not as complex as he thinks it is and has plot holes you can drive a truck through. I was confused by the fact that this wealthy widow was more concerned about the girl in this film than she was about why her husband had the film in the first place. Not to mention, the unlimited financial assistance she provides Wells to get to the bottom of this and as confused as Wells was, I had figured out a major part of what was going on about ten minutes in and that's not good when you're dealing with a film that's two hours long. It's hard to get behind this detective as well. When he's at home pretending not to smoke in front of his devoted wife (Catherine Keener), he appears to be all about his family, who he ends up practically throwing under a bus in favor of this investigation.
Joel Schumacher's leaden directorial hand is no help either, telegraphing everything that's going to happen with the camera rather than letting the story do its part of the work. Schumacher's frantic camerawork should have made for a more economic story, but somehow this film is still about 20 minutes longer than it needs to be. Schumacher should have spent a little less time trying to be Hitchcock and concentrated on his actors a little more. Nicolas Cage is a startling combination of stone-faced and overwrought here and even James Gandolfini grated on my nerves. I did enjoy Joaquin Phoenix as an adult bookstore employee and Peter Stormare as the bad guy, but this movie was just too much of everything, produced unintentional laughs, and it went on forever. Even the music was creepy and intrusive. I suspect it's movies like this one that led to all the Cage hate I see on this site.