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The
Tuxedo
(*)
review by Jon Waterman
Jimmy
Tong (Jackie Chan) is a chauffer who takes over when his secret agent boss,
Clark Devlin (Jason Isaacs) is put out of commission. With the help
of Devlin’s secret tuxedo and scientist Del Blaine (Jennifer Love Hewitt),
Tong must stop the bad guys from infecting the water supply before it’s
too late.
Why do I keep going to see Jackie Chan movies? I may stop now that virtually
everything I used to go for has been stripped away.
When I think of a Jackie Chan film, I think of a badly dubbed campy action film
showcasing Chan’s abilities. When I think of “The Tuxedo,” I
think of a synchronous sound pseudo-campy pseudo-action film showcasing Chan’s
ability to now use wires.
For Chan fans, those last few words are a kick in the teeth. Jackie gained
his reputation through his unassisted martial arts and doing all his dangerous
stunts without assistance. Now, all of a sudden he’s running around
in circles on enemy chests. What’s so astounding about that? If
I wanted to see that, I’d rent, well, anything with fighting. Jackie
also is notorious for using props in incredible ways. There is little of
this type of action taking place this time around. After all, we have to
watch Jennifer Love Hewitt punch a guy once or twice. The inevitable outtakes
during the credits used to showcase how close to injury Jackie would come and
usually the broken bones sustained. Now, it’s all about jokes, because
they have nothing else.
Speaking of the outtakes, they are there on this film, too. However, like “Rush
Hour 2,” they could be called the best part of the movie (and not only
because they signify that you can go home). On the other hand, the outtakes
were not good either. The jokes and screw-ups were pretty pointless and
not funny.
Directing this is Kevin Donovan. If the name sounds familiar, then you
probably went to school with him. This is his debut feature, and it could
have been much better. The action sequences were so scattered that the
motion was tough to follow and probably could have been edited using a random
shot placement program. The fighting wasn’t all that interesting,
either. I came away with no memorable moments.
The script left much to be desired. Attempting to put some type of social
commentary into the nation’s obsession with bottled water while at the
same time trying to make an audience believe that an ordinary tuxedo is the “most
sophisticated piece of technology on the planet” is Michael J. Wilson and
Michael Leeson. Of course they failed on both accounts, as they don’t
describe how or why the tuxedo was even invented, nor will anyone be avoiding
their filtered $1 bottles of tap water. Even worse is the lack of depth
in the characters. Take it for what it is, considering it’s a movie
supposedly centered on fights (although there was a lot of boring exposition). The
whole thing was too fantastical for me, and that’s saying something for
a mindless action flick.
The dull characters were just made worse through the abysmal acting of Chan and
Jennifer Love (and really the whole cast). Chan is quite excusable. He’s
never been that good and English is still pretty difficult for him to grasp. J.
Love, on the other hand, is an English speaker from the start. She, too,
has never been that good. She tries too hard and picks bad roles. Of
course, the chemistry between the two didn’t work at all. The partnership
didn’t make much sense and, I think, backfired.
Some people seemed to enjoy the film. Half the audience I saw the film
with clapped at the end. This surprised me, because they didn’t laugh
at any of the jokes either. I probably laughed more than most people, but
that’s because it was an easy film to make fun of. And there’s
the redeeming value -- perhaps the only redeeming value.
Those looking for another Chan classic will be sorely disappointed. Those
looking for a fun action movie with some cool fights will also be disappointed. Let’s
just hope that “Shanghai Knights” is somewhat better. Until
then, I’ll just watch “Rumble in the Bronx” over and over remembering
the good old days.
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