I always get the jitters when a main actor/actress (in this case, Mark Harmon of N.C.I.S. fame as “Certain Prey’s” protagonist, Lucas Davenport) is also one of the movie’s “Executive Producers”. Executive Producers are usually money-people, financial backers, because they have a lot of it, and more often than not — if they happen to be actors or actresses — land big parts in the movie. Sometimes, that can be a good thing. But don’t count on it. Right from the opening scenes, it is terribly obvious “Certain Prey” Minneapolis Deputy Police Chief, Lucas Davenport was not going to be the author, John Sanford’s in-depth Lucas Davenport characterization we are all familiar with at all. Nope. Instead, this movie’s Lucas Davenport/Executive Producer is, uh — Mark Harmon, famous N.C.I.S. team leader turned character-actor in the flesh, fresh off the N.C.I.S. set. I swear, I kept waiting for the rest of the goofy N.C.I.S. cast to burst onto the screen.
“Certain Prey” is one of the most poorly-cast movies I’ve ever seen*. Period. The only character with even a smidgeon of the novel series’ authentic flavor is actress Athena Karkanis, who played the novels’ sultry sidekick cop, “Marcy Sherrill” character.
“Certain Prey” is a stinker. A real letdown. Here’s an online movie comment I fully agree with: “It sucked and then some…” Yep. It did that.
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Tim says: *Perhaps only to be eclipsed by an upcoming (author Lee Child) “Jack Reacher” novel movie, wherein the super bad-ass 6′ 5″ Jack Reacher charcter/protaganist is portrayed — amid a flurry of negative moviegoer criticism — by a wimpy 5′ 7″ Tom Cruise. More than likely, it will suck “and then some”, too.
Preview writers and the folks who create newspaper headlines have always fascinated me. So much to say and so few characters in which to say it. With this in mind, one of my pastimes is reading on-screen television movie guide synopses on the preview channel. Here’s a recent one for the 1965 movie, 
Effect # 1
Posted in Commentary, Movies, tagged Movie Review on 07/23/2011 | 5 Comments »
Most special effects in many of today’s movies have become so commonplace that they have ceased to be special at all. I mean, seriously—how many explosions with flailing bodies launched into the foreground, how many cars overturning from half-concealed ramps, how many running folks catching fire, how many helicopters crashing into mountain sides, how many gush-popping bullet wounds and bullet holes whose ricochets throw sparks even while striking trees (or other organic matter) can an audience possibly digest?
I suspect that contemporary movie producers, screen writers, directors, and stunt people are so familiar with every canned special effect that they refer to them universally by numbers.
Director: “Okay, listen up. First off we’ll pan down from effect #33 into effect #12. Makeup: go light on the blood until effect #27 has had time to register.”
Producer: “Hang on there for a minute. If we substitute effect #88 and effect #50 for effect #33 instead, we can throw in an extra effect #41 or possibly two back-to-back effect # 6s and save investors a little money.”
Writer: “Yeah, but I was saving those two number 6s for the scene where the jealous boyfriend, having just survived effect #73 (minus his ear, or course) was falling over the cliff right after effect #9 catapulted him right off the edge.”
Sigh. If the Movie Guild would simply publish this Official Special Effects List shorthand and distribute it at the theater, think of the money they could save in production by just plugging the effect number text right into the blank movie scene.
Last week I re-watched the Alfred Hitchcock movie, “Psycho”. It was chillingly refreshing not to have witnessed the famous shower scene the way it most certainly would have been graphically depicted today. More and more I find myself turning to the older cinemas of yesteryear. You remember them — the movies where special effect #1 was a bold pioneering force called CREATIVITY.
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