Naomi Watts broke through in "Mulholland Drive," but that movie
made, like, $6 million at the box office. She didn't enter the
mainstream consciousness until "The Ring," which was a $100
million hit seen by kids, teens, suburban housewives, less skeptical
members of the art house crowd, and probably a few old folks.
Clearly there was an obligation to appear in this sequel. (Or maybe
it was a paycheck that convinced her.) Either way, don't expect a
"Ring 3."
Because the film's title is spelled out as "The Ring Two," I assume
the filmmakers don't want critics to throw it in the heap with other
crappy horror sequels like "Friday the 13th Part VIII" or "Halloween:
H20." But that's exactly where it belongs. The cinematography and
music are better than your average thriller's, but the plot makes
even less sense. There are just no rules or boundaries to how this
phantom videotape and the killer girl within can strike. Only when
you're asleep? When you're awake? When you pass the tape on to
someone else? Whenever it's convenient to create a scary scene?
Watts' involvement with the project makes it seem better than it is,
but even her Shakespearean line reading of "I'm not your fucking
mommy!" gives this cinema fan the heebie-jeebies.
My grade: C-
Screened: March 15
Joan Allen, excellent in "The Contender" and "Pleasantville," does
neurotic especially well. She doesn't grate on the nerves like a
lesser actress would in a part that requires a lot of shrill sentiment
and drunken histrionics. She almost makes alcoholism seem
cathartic.
The movie around her isn't quite as good as she is. Playing a
middle-aged woman recently dumped by her husband, she copes
with the various life crises of her four daughters (hotties all: Evan
Rachel Wood, Alicia Witt, Kerri Russell, and Erika Christiansen) as
she sways in and out of sobriety.
Because we are presented with such a large canvas, it's tough to dig
deep into any one character long enough to establish roots. Maybe
this material would've been better served as a pilot for a really
good show on HBO. These are unique lives that deserve extended
treatment and involvement.
Kevin Costner shows up fleetingly as Allen's new love interest, and
for once (or at least once in a long time) he doesn't play his typical
arrogant self. He plays another loser drunk, a very simple fellow
who wants nothing more than companionship as the days drone by.
It's the most un-Costner-like performance he's given in a while
(though -- you had to see this coming -- he does play an
ex-baseball player), and it rounds out the picture nicely.
My grade: B
Screened: March 18
I don't remember exactly when I saw this, but I was forced to go
with a friend. Renee was awful. The movie was awful. 'Nuff said.
My grade: F
Screened: ???
