Okay, here's the deal. You know, it must sound to you gentle readers sometimes like all I do all day, every day, is watch movies. That's partly true, I guess. It's true that I have a TV in every examining room at my clinic, and ostensibly, it's for the entertainment of my patients while they wait, but I must admit it's more for me so I can go from patient to patient without missing a scene. (And, yes, I do mute the sound when tending to a critical case.) Really, most of those movies I watch at the office are ones I know by heart. I put them on mainly as a way to judge time, 'cause I hate clocks and watches. I know, for example, if I cue up The Godfather, I have about three hours or so invested. I can work through a patient load by knowing when the horse's head appears, when Michael kills the policeman, when Sonny gets blasted, when Brando dies in the garden, and when the christening starts. I can have five patients in, examined, blood work drawn and processed, and get them on their way by the time Moe Green gets his eyes "dilated" in Vegas.
But I also read a lot. During my insomnia spells, I can breeze through a book a night. I chomp through bestsellers and trivia books like Cheetos, and have been known to read an entire Zane Grey novel during a bathroom break. If I stumble onto an interesting premise, though, I slow down, savoring the plot. I recently found a paperback left behind in my waiting room written by one Jeffery Deaver. I glanced at the cover, flipped it over, and read the back blurb to see whether or not it sounded like something to keep or to throw back on the table for a future patient. Well, three things helped me make up my mind. One, it was a police thriller. A good mystery is always a temptation. The phrase "serial killer" was in there, so I knew there would be some tight plotting here and there. But what really flipped me out was the fact that the main character was a detective named Lincoln Rhyme, and Rhyme was a bed-ridden quadriplegic. A detective who was paralyzed from the neck down? Who was going to track a serial killer from his bed, using only his huge expanse of knowledge of forensics and psychology? Very cool premise, Mr. Deaver.
The book turned out to be quite a hot read, and I couldn't keep myself from thinking what a good movie this thing would make. Only three other times has a book grabbed me so that I immediately transposed the scenes into film scenes. Two were Thomas Harris' Hannibal Lecter books, Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs. The third was a short story by a man named Robert McCammon, and I hesitate to name it by title because I've heard rumors that the story might be in the works at Dreamworks, and I need a lawsuit over secrecy like I need another ex-wife.
Well, Mr. Deaver's book, The Bone Collector, has been made into a movie, starring Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie (Pushing Tin). And, folks, while it's not perfect, it does turn out to be a kickin' good thriller. And the casting of Washington and Jolie might just be the best thing to happen to this film, because these two are pure dynamite.
The title character, The Bone Collector, is the name given to a serial killer, one who enjoys what he does. The case finds its way to the bedside of Det. Lincoln Rhyme (Washington), who hasn't worked a case since the accident that has left him a bitter quadriplegic. At one time, Rhyme was the best forensic investigator around, but investigations call for lots of hands-on time, meticulously walking the crime scene, eyes barely moving so as not to miss any possible clue to how the criminal thinks and acts. You can't do that from a hospital bed. But when a rookie officer, Amelia Donaghy (Jolie) happens up on a particularly gruesome crime scene and shows a knack for the kind of work Rhyme once did, he enlists her to be his field agent. Amelia will be Rhyme's eyes, ears, and legs in the field, and together, they can hunt The Bone Collector, two minds acting as one.
I go no further into the plot for your benefit, because there are some twists that don't need to be spilled here.
Folks, let me just say this right off the bat. The director here, Phillip Noyce, knew exactly what he was doing when he pushed the casting button. Denzel is put in a role not many actors would have even tried for, that of a quadriplegic. Acting is difficult enough, but to do it without the use of your arms and legs, having to rely on inner talent and strength of voice and character is something few can pull off for a few minutes, let alone an entire film. Denzel not only pulls it off; he does so in a commanding way. He rules every scene, and the force of his characterization literally makes you forget at times that he's immobile. And, if there was any doubt as to Angelina Jolie's abilities as an actress, or whether or not she was good enough to hold the screen with a talent like Washington, go right ahead and ditch those doubts. She's simply riveting. And don't think for a second she's getting by because they needed a sexy woman to play this character. She is, indeed, a beauty to behold, but, holy mother of pearl, can she act! She and Washington develop a chemistry, both sexual and as a team, that could easily drive this into a series. Deaver has written a second "Rhyme" book, but it remains to be seen if it'll follow theatrically, or if Denzel and Angelina will wander into Harrison Ford/Tom Clancy territory. And Phillip Noyce has directed Ford in Clancy movies. Hmmmmm....
There are a few holes here and there that could've been fixed. The screenwriter, Jeremy Iacone, is an apparent devotee of the police dialogue cliché, and we get another attempt of the Ransom "shifty-eye giveaway" thing, which is becoming as used as a Kleenex in flu season. I was also surprised that the supporting cast is so light and stereotypical. Aside from Queen Latifah, who plays Rhyme's live-in nurse, Thelma, everyone here is cookie-cutter. Her Majesty, though, continues to impress me as an actress. Like her performance in Living Out Loud, here she shows a good grasp of give-and-take acting.
Here, I have to confess something. The whole time I was reading the book, I couldn't help but put Christopher Reeve in the role of Rhyme. I found myself thinking, "This would be the perfect vehicle for Chris to get back in front of the camera." And it would've been. I mean, all kidding aside, the part is tailor-made for him. His television remake of Rear Window was a prime example of good acting with a disability, not in spite of it. I don't know if the part was ever offered to him, but I'd think the only thing that might've been a factor against him is the fact that he still needs a respirator in order to maintain his breathing and speaking. This puts a slight stilt to his speech patterns, and alters the delivery of his words. He certainly cannot yell, or even be overly loud, for that matter. The character of Rhyme does call for some raising of the voice, and the inflections are just not possible with the respirator. It's a credit to all involved that both Denzel and Latifah met with Reeve to learn how to realistically perform their parts.
One last note here -- there's some grumbling that this movie is overly "grisly" in its use of violent images. No punches pulled here, people. If you're going to make a film showing forensics investigation, you're going to have to show crime scenes. And crime scenes are not, repeat, not, chalk outlines in the street and a bunch of policemen standing around smoking. And, yes, in some places, there are scavengers that show up and do damage (meaning animals and rodents, not just photographers.) It's part of real life, folks. Is it used merely to shock the audience? Watch the Six O'Clock News once in a while. See if you don't hear much worse than what you'll see in this movie.
Now, all that said, there's only one other thing to tell you. This is a pretty good thriller, one that should be high on your watch list before the Thanksgiving holiday. Post-Thanksgiving, we're gonna get a few doses of Sweetness and such for the kids. This is a movie for adults who like the feeling of goosebumps on their skin, tightness in their chest, that squirmy feeling in their legs. It's not quite up to the standard of Silence of the Lambs, but it's well worth the coin to see Denzel and Angelina burn down the house with their talent.
And, yes, all you guys out there, Angelina does have the sexiest mouth you've ever seen. Oh, to be a tube of Chapstick.... But that's a thriller of a completely different kind.
Image copyright Universal Pictures.
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in for observation