The better half had to spend some time this weekend studying for her actuarial exams, so a combination of fancy footwork and vague promises to help out around the house at some indefinite time in the future allowed me to slip the leash for a couple of hours on Sunday and head out to see Schwartzenegger's latest, Collateral Damage. Unfortunately the heady feeling of freedom quickly dissipated when the movie started rolling, and I was left fairly disappointed with it when the lights came up. I can't thoroughly pan the film, as it is by no means awful. Those who realize what their getting into may even find quite a bit to like here. It is so unlike anything else Schwartzenegger has done, however, that those expecting the traditional Ah-nuld fare are doomed to dissatisfaction. Much like Arnold himself, moviegoers have traditionally expected his action films to be freakishly larger than life. We expect to see him jumping out of airplanes, getting sucked out into the vacuum of space, fighting on top of a Harrier jet in flight, or driving a broken piece of pipe clear through the body of a beefy Australian wearing a chain mail vest (Commando, if you're wondering). Collateral Damage has none of this spectacle. There are a couple of mildly Arnold-esque stunts, but the bulk of the action is military-style firefights. Collateral Damage is, in fact, a Tom Clancy style thriller. Featuring an everyman-type hero out for revenge, the film's running time is largely taken up by political intrigues and double-crosses, not action set pieces.
As an aside to those who don't recall, Collateral Damage was originally scheduled for release around the time of the September 11th attacks. In the aftermath of those attacks, the movie's release was postponed. I was honestly of two minds about this at the time. Maybe a lot of people would have craved the catharsis arising from a resounding cinematic ass-kicking prior to seeing the job done for real. In retrospect, however, I at least have to give the Hollywood types credit for finally showing concern over the possible offensiveness of their product. Hollywood has for quite some time now casually offended by loading their product with enough non-stop profanity to embarass a sailor and featuring overtly smutty dialogue and situations even in movies targeted for children. In addition to casual offence, they've gone out of their way to deliberately offend Catholics and Christians in general as well. Consequently I have to give some grudging respect to them for finally showing concern for the sensibilities of the movie-going public, although it is sad that it took the spectacular deaths of thousands to bring them around.
One scene in particular stands out in my mind as encapsulating the movie's entire approach to its story. Early in the film, some Commie-simp nutjob goes on TV and calls Brewer's wife and kid "collateral damage" in a justifiable attack on evil America (shades of American academe in the aftermath of Sept. 11!). Brewer becomes enraged and heads to the nutjob's office to express his displeasure. In a typical Arnold movie, one would expect Arnold to smack the guy around and dangle him out the window to extract some key bit of information that would lead him closer to the bomber. Here, however, the enraged Brewer simply smashes some office equipment before the cops bust in to take him away. Just as we'd expect in real life, Brewer's inchoate anger at this skinny little weasel is ultimately ineffective at accomplishing anything positive. It's little touches of realism like this that make the film a little more interesting than typical formulaic action pictures.
On the downside, realism can go too far. I don't want to burst any bubbles, but I have to tell you that vast swatches of the globe are home to unhygenic hellholes that no one in their right mind would live in given the chance at something better. For those who sense a whiff of Chauvinism in these remarks let me assure you that parts of St. Louis fall into this category as well. In setting a movie in these locales, filmmakers must be careful that the grubby nature of them doesn't make for a thoroughly uncomfortable viewing experience. The makers of Collateral Damage were not careful enough, as once Arnold hits Colombia I found the dirty, sweaty, malarial atmosphere a little more than I could take. The Internet Movie Database implies that Vera Cruz in Mexico served as a stand-in for Colombia for this movie. If that's the case then the Chamber of Commerce of Vera Cruz is going to be considering a lawsuit when they catch the finished product. There must be lots of pleasant parts to the city, but none of them made it too the screen. Even the wonder of nature fails to give respite from the unpleasant inhabited locales. When Brewer travels down a river to the guerilla zone, the trip is made down some humid swampy river surrounded by twisted rotting trees. So vicariously grimy was I feeling at the midway point, I would have had to leave to shower if the action had not shifted back to the U.S.
Even if you can tolerate the moldering locales, however, the movie is still way too long. This is something that Hollywood seems to be having problems with lately. Collateral Damage is right around two hours long, and cries out for some tightening. There are at least fifteen minutes of gratuitous John Leguizamo (and honestly when is he anything less than gratuitous), and his entire part could have been cut without adversely affecting the final product. John Turturro also shows up totally unnecessarily in a bit part. His appearance is not at all grating, but the part again is so inconsequential that they could have gotten a nobody to serve the same plot function and saved on Turturro's salary altogether.
Though not affecting the quality of the movie in anyway, I found myself amused several times during its course by the close resemblance several actors had to other notable and semi-notable personages. Momentarily glimpsed behind Schwartzenegger's shoulder in the opening sequence is a fellow that is the spitting image of Rodney Dangerfield. As Elias Koteas ages he gets squintier ever day, and I was amazed by how much he resembles Robert DeNiro in several scenes. More obscurely, when the terrorist El Lobo cuts his hair for the climactic scenes he bears a definite resemblance to Tigran Petrosian, World Chess Champion in the late sixties. Even more obscurely, some poor joker of a henchman that gets thrown on a land mine by Brewer looks a whole lot like a guy I work with. Francesca Neri doesn't really resemble anybody else, but her freakishly bowed lips nevertheless kind of creeped me out.
All in all, I think that the studio let Arnold down with this production. When all is said and done it seems that no one wanted to let Arnold try something markedly different so the whole movie has that half-a-loaf feel. It's not quite taut and tense enough to make a memorable political thriller, yet it is woefully lacking in typical Schwartzenegger excess. Yet while making fun of Arnold has become all too easy, I have to come to his defense as an actor here. The best thing about Schwartzenegger has always been his humility. He's always been willing to poke fun at his larger than life image, and as he has aged his good-natured humility has ironically made him more and more suited to play the good-hearted everyman. While a muscle-bound Austrian is an unusual choice to play the guy next door, this movie shows that roles like that may just be Arnold's forte. I hope next time around the studio gives free reign to his strengths in this regard. While it is true that Collateral Damage could have starred anyone as a lead, it would have been far less memorable without Schwartzenegger's trademark humility.
