The Bone Collector Review
by Ian Waldon-Mantgani (Ukcritic AT aol DOT com)January 16th, 2000
The Bone Collector *1/2
Rated on a 4-star scale; Screening venue - Odeon (Bromborough); Released in the UK by UIP on 14 January, 1999; certificate 15; 118 minutes; country of origin USA; aspect ratio 2.35:1
Directed by Phillip Noyce; produced by Martin Bregman, Michael Bregman, Louis A Stroller.
Written by Jeremy Iacone; based on the novel by Jeffery Deaver. Photographed by Dean Semler; edited by William Hoy.
CAST.....
Denzel Washington..... Lincoln Rhyme
Angelina Jolie..... Amelia Donaghy
Queen Latifah..... Thelma
Ed O'Neill..... Lieutenant Paulie Sellito
Mike McGlone..... Detective Kenny Solomon
Luis Guzman..... Eddie Ortiz
Michael Rooker..... Captain Howard Cheney
Leland Orser..... Richard Thompson
I arrived just in time, and got into the screening of "The Bone Collector" just as the lights were going down. I rushed to a good seat, settled in and quickly got comfortable -- the opening montage was pieced together in a luxurious, soothing way. It took me a minute to realise that the images it contained were depictions of horrific murders.
Nauseating brutality has become commonplace in Hollywood. Gone are the days when filmmakers expected us to be shocked by such releases as "The Silence of the Lambs", "Seven" or "Copycat" -- gather the kids round, folks, because savage slaughter is now considered fit material for any popcorn movie.
This one has the premise, pacing and structure of a cheap paperback thriller, but it's hard to dismiss it as disposable trash entertainment -- the big-budget production shows off glossy photography, pristine locations and a big star, Denzel Washington, in the lead role. Washington plays Lincoln Rhyme, a forensics expert who was paralysed from the neck down by a falling object at a crime scene. Rhyme once had the energy to write twelve criminology textbooks; now he's resigned to making defeatist sarcastic remarks about everything under the sun, and begging his doctor to inject him with something lethal.
Rhyme's former cop colleagues come to him for help: A serial killer is deliberately leaving clues, but nobody can decipher them. Our hero does, of course, initially object but eventually agree to assist in piecing together this puzzle, on the condition that he can work with Amelia Donaghy (Angelina Jolie), the young detective who gathered the initial scraps of evidence. He likes her attention to detail.
The movie's method is straightforward: Lots of policemen sit around Rhyme's apartment and figure out what the killer's latest hints mean; squad cars are rushed to the expected crime scenes, and arrive just too late; Rhyme uses a walkie-talkie to guide Amelia on how to collect the evidence. She does a lot of grimacing at the disgusting situations, and I don't blame her, since she has to get stuck into the aftermath of mutilation, flaying, boiling and drowning. One guy has bits of his flesh cut out, and is torn apart by rats attracted to the blood.
There are preposterous patches throughout all this -- in one scene, for example, Amelia is instructed to cut off a victim's hands, to preserve physical evidence the killer might have left on them. I am not the first person to notice that, using this logic, the corpse might as well be decapitated, in case anyone needs to check dental records. This is nothing compared to the closing fifteen minutes, in which all dimensions of all developments are so absurd that I could write essays on them. Just as annoying is the director's overuse of creepy hand-held point-of-view shots, which appear in every scene.
The quality of the human presence varies. Ed O'Neill's small role shows he could be a good character actor; Washington is forceful and passionate, but with subtle undertones of weariness that convince us he really is a cripple, rather than an actor lying down and waving his head a lot. Jolie, however, who is a good actress, has little to do but stand across from these guys while looking tough and responding to their questions.
Conventional and petty criticisms aside, what really disturbs me about this flick is how casually it deals with grisly horrors. Today I saw Spike Lee's "Summer of Sam", which depicts serial killing with potent realism. Sadly, the nonchalant tone of "The Bone Collector" is a clearer reflection of the way modern thrillers are headed. I'm glad I do not eat in the cinema -- entertainers don't want us to munch on our snacks anymore; they want us to puke them up.
COPYRIGHT(c) 2000 Ian Waldron-Mantgani
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