| Careers passing in the night? Paul Bettany and Harrison Ford. © 2006 Warner Bros. |
Still Frantic
After All These Years
Harrison Ford saves his family again
-- just the way we like it.
BY GREGORY WEINKAUF
I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, AND I WANNA KNOW NOW!” mega-growls Harrison Ford in the new
thriller Firewall, once all hell has broken loose and only he can save the day. And you know what? Bingo. Mr. Ford, you
have simultaneously asked and answered your own question.
Welcome back. We love ya, y’angry ol’ pothead*.
(*Satire.)
All expectations were suspended for Firewall, because I’m generally not the sort of person who gets excited by banking
(obviously, or would I be doing this?) nor specifically by furious intrigue involving wire-transfers -- but balancing this
challenged milieu we have here a very gifted director (Richard Loncraine, Brimstone & Treacle) working with a
crackerjack cast in fine form. As with many great films (Dog Day Afternoon leaps to mind), the rudimentary plot (in this
case, Yuppie Must Rob Own Bank To Save Family) is merely the skeleton upon which the nerve-laden sinew of wily
performances, taut pacing and edgy kicks is hung. When fiscal turns physical, the movie proves gripping. I never chew
my nails, but during Firewall I caught mine between my teeth more than once.
(Here, in case Gene Shalit is in court this week: “Firewall is pulse-poundingly thrilling!”)
It’s also worth noting that after a slew of films from Mr. Ford which, in a generous spirit, could be called unfortunate,
it’s refreshing to see his shit hitting the fan again -- rather than hitting the fans.
I used to be a “reader” in Hollywood -- which, for the uninitiated, means that one ekes out a Subway-for-lunch-and-
dinner “living” by appraising screenplays and novels and various other properties for producers, agents and managers,
who are generally too busy yelling and throwing tantrums and scooping up real estate and occasionally developing
embarrassing misfires to do their own work. During this period of my intellectual development, I earned some pearls of
wisdom, one of which I shall share with you now:
All aspiring screenwriters must name their protagonist “Jack.”
Best guess suggests that “Jack” affords these protags an Everyman status, more relatable to general audiences than if
they were called “Faraz” or “Bunghole.” Thus, Firewall scribe Joe Forte -- who wisely married a producer -- opts out of
reinventing the wheel, thus Mr. Ford plays a character named Jack (his third, after Working Girl and the Jack Ryan
movies).
Jack Stanfield is one of those busy "Seattle" (this being Seattle, Canada) family-man types whose wife, Beth (Virginia
Madsen, Zombie High) happens to be an architect who could design circles around Frank Lloyd Wright, and who in fact
has designed for her family an ostentatious coastal homestead which probably embarrasses their comparatively humble
next-door neighbors, Bill and Melinda Gates. When he’s not playing hide-and-seek with his kids in piles of money, or
taking them boating as in the eerie and excellently produced opening titles (by a company aptly called Prologue; you guys
are good), Jack spends his days prowling though tracking shots in his high-rise downtown "Seattle" bank office with
faux Space Needle-view, where characters ratchet hyper-dialogue at one another as if trapped in some unfunny Preston
Sturges film or any number of those carbon-copy TV cop or hospital shows of which Americans are so damned
puzzlingly fond. You know the drill.
Fortunately, the familiarity is merely a ruse to cajole the masses to feel at ease, that Mr. Ford may quickly get a bad
feeling about this. This could be due to a bewildering board meeting at which are bandied about phrases such as
“philosophy of risk” and “reasonable level of fraud-loss” (What is this, the Bush administration?) while corporate meanie-
pants Robert Patrick glares at everybody and looks even less human than he did in Terminator 2. Or it could be due to
Robert Forster (Family Tree) being way too pleasant to have achieved a lofty corporate position (he’s outrageously
helpful about clearing up Jack’s apparent $95,000 online gambling debt; I used to get in trouble for legitimate Kinko’s
receipts). Or it’s somehow to do with Alan Arkin turning in another fun, energetic performance, even though, by the
look of it, he’d better hurry up if we’re going to get The Return of Captain Invincible II (which I would love). Or it
simply could be that Jack’s assistant is startlingly portrayed by strange comedienne Mary Lynn Rajskub -- who is
apparently an actor now. Maybe I’ll consider watching television.
I like looking at Mary Lynn Rajskub. Thank you for putting her in the movie.
These characters definitely complicate matters a bit (especially funky Rajskub, who declares “Screw you, Jack!” --
which is exactly what I used to say whilst reading all those damned spec scipts), but the real source of Jack’s bad
feeling is a fellow calling himself Bill Cox (Paul Bettany), who, if there were no such things as Reveal Absolutely
Everything Trailers (QUIT IT!), I’d feel bad about spoiling for you as the alleged villain here (more about that in a bit),
but who…well…is.
It’s probably Jack’s own fault that he doesn’t perceive, upon first brush, that Bill’s American accent is almost as
laughable as Madonna’s English one, but Han Solo never did have The Force, did he? In short order, Jack is hating life,
as Bill’s thugs -- who sport Actual Personality Traits -- smash into Jack’s house and hold hostage his family (possibly
inspired by watching Trapped -- another kidnap movie lensed in Seattle, Canada). Kinda as with Mel Gibson once he got
super-rich and paranoid, the Ransom here proves tricky, as does the Payback: Bill is precariously slow to explain his
plan, but the gist is that he wants Jack to rob his own bank -- not with a mask and gun, but with technology! Pretty cool
-- with all this keyboard-racing and iPod-rewiring, you’d think Ford was playing Murdock in The A-Team: The Movie
(unless…shudder..he is). Anyway, Bill wants Jack to yank, electronically, $10,000 U.S. from the accounts of the bank’s
10,000 richest customers. Then, he says, he’ll let Jack, Beth, and their stereotypical American children go free.
Now here’s the thing: Subtext. As with flabby old Jack Nicholson in Wolf, we have here sorta flabby, sorta old Harrison
Ford revealing his passionate loathing of Generation X -- most of whom are now faster, smarter and stronger than he.
Sure, sure, this loathing is masked by the plot itself, wherein Jack is “innocent” and Bill is “evil” -- however, the
ideologies behind these characters are truly fascinating and more complex than Good Guy Vs. Bad Guy. The payoff is
brutal and hasty (and a bit pyrotechnically ridiculous; it appears that Jack drives directly into the Unabomber’s lakeside
château -- incidentally interesting that Ford and Ted Kaczynski were both born in Chicago only a few weeks apart), but
the mad glee with which Jack crushes a man’s head with a heavy glass blender is truly, deeply disturbing. One hit would
have been adequate; he goes for three. Ford enraged is tops, but do we like this man?
That’s where I’m torn. Our hero starts out sluggish but he’s great here once he gets moving, even wagging that patented
finger not once but twice. Ford’s Shining Moment came two whole decades ago, in his finest and smartest film, Peter
Weir’s masterpiece, The Mosquito Coast (a performance from Ford I contend rests on a pinnacle with The Star Wars
Holiday Special, if for very different reasons), but nonetheless I admit I'm almost always happy to see him in whatever.
And yet…
Bill. Hm…
Frankly, lifting ten grand from a bunch of sickeningly wealthy people who’d never miss it sounds like a fine idea to me.
Keep reading! I’m not suggesting that crime pays (unless you’re a Bush), or that Bill’s character, as drawn, is in any
way sympathetic. Bill is very cruel and very greedy. Bill is not working for Amnesty International or Greenpeace or
Habitat for Humanity. Bill is a bad man. But -- notably -- not The Man, who is, essentially, Jack. What is carefully
omitted in this screenplay is exactly how Jack got so rich and influential, as well as what’s really motivating Bill (some of
which one can glean by watching Bettany roll around in the blood in Gangster No. 1).
Bill is utterly vile, no question, however there’s simply more as-yet-untapped potential in Bettany, whom Loncraine
sweetly directed last year in Wimbledon, and who represents not the fatcats who’ve had their day and are mercilessly
lunching upon ours, but MY generation (apart from the odd, lucky Pauline Kael stand-in), who are still putting up with
bloated Boomer bullshit left and right (even though Ford is technically too old to be classified as a Boomer). Plus Bettany
is very talented, knows his business (play a villain for Warner Bros. and your chances of nabbing The Joker skyrocket),
and has claimed perhaps the world’s greatest trophy-wife (at least, pre-Dark Water) -- the shallow pretty girl always
wants the fake bad boy, doesn’t she? Bettany’s only noteworthy flaws are that he smokes and puts up with Russell
Crowe (both habits being disgusting and retarded), but otherwise I’m rooting for him -- not in this movie, but in general.
All of which adds to the surprise-fascination of Firewall.There's more here than simply another blatant Chrysler plug à la
A History of Violence, or the climatic intrigue over why it rains constantly in Seattle when you need atmosphere -- but
clears up pronto when you need to use a laptop outside on the roof of a car. It’s weird -- themes which I consider to be
obvious to the point of abject boredom (It Hurts To Bang Another Cowboy, for example, or McCarthyism Was Bad) are
currently being treated as brilliant treatises upon the human condition, while the potential for a deceptively routine thriller
to creep under our skin is often overlooked or even mocked. Why is this?
My recommendation: Grab some snack with zero trans-fats and go see Firewall. In the present moment, it is an
engrossing thriller and stirring emotional ride, and it’s also an ideal time-capsule film. In thirty years or so, it will be
fascinating to view Firewall and look back upon our current fascination with and dependence upon electronic
doohickeys. Unless, by then, we have already succumbed as a species, and have become them.
Firewall
Entertainment Value: 11/13
Style: 10/13
Philosophical Insight: 8/13
-Gregory Weinkauf, 5 February, 2006
After All These Years
Harrison Ford saves his family again
-- just the way we like it.
BY GREGORY WEINKAUF
I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, AND I WANNA KNOW NOW!” mega-growls Harrison Ford in the new
thriller Firewall, once all hell has broken loose and only he can save the day. And you know what? Bingo. Mr. Ford, you
have simultaneously asked and answered your own question.
Welcome back. We love ya, y’angry ol’ pothead*.
(*Satire.)
All expectations were suspended for Firewall, because I’m generally not the sort of person who gets excited by banking
(obviously, or would I be doing this?) nor specifically by furious intrigue involving wire-transfers -- but balancing this
challenged milieu we have here a very gifted director (Richard Loncraine, Brimstone & Treacle) working with a
crackerjack cast in fine form. As with many great films (Dog Day Afternoon leaps to mind), the rudimentary plot (in this
case, Yuppie Must Rob Own Bank To Save Family) is merely the skeleton upon which the nerve-laden sinew of wily
performances, taut pacing and edgy kicks is hung. When fiscal turns physical, the movie proves gripping. I never chew
my nails, but during Firewall I caught mine between my teeth more than once.
(Here, in case Gene Shalit is in court this week: “Firewall is pulse-poundingly thrilling!”)
It’s also worth noting that after a slew of films from Mr. Ford which, in a generous spirit, could be called unfortunate,
it’s refreshing to see his shit hitting the fan again -- rather than hitting the fans.
I used to be a “reader” in Hollywood -- which, for the uninitiated, means that one ekes out a Subway-for-lunch-and-
dinner “living” by appraising screenplays and novels and various other properties for producers, agents and managers,
who are generally too busy yelling and throwing tantrums and scooping up real estate and occasionally developing
embarrassing misfires to do their own work. During this period of my intellectual development, I earned some pearls of
wisdom, one of which I shall share with you now:
All aspiring screenwriters must name their protagonist “Jack.”
Best guess suggests that “Jack” affords these protags an Everyman status, more relatable to general audiences than if
they were called “Faraz” or “Bunghole.” Thus, Firewall scribe Joe Forte -- who wisely married a producer -- opts out of
reinventing the wheel, thus Mr. Ford plays a character named Jack (his third, after Working Girl and the Jack Ryan
movies).
Jack Stanfield is one of those busy "Seattle" (this being Seattle, Canada) family-man types whose wife, Beth (Virginia
Madsen, Zombie High) happens to be an architect who could design circles around Frank Lloyd Wright, and who in fact
has designed for her family an ostentatious coastal homestead which probably embarrasses their comparatively humble
next-door neighbors, Bill and Melinda Gates. When he’s not playing hide-and-seek with his kids in piles of money, or
taking them boating as in the eerie and excellently produced opening titles (by a company aptly called Prologue; you guys
are good), Jack spends his days prowling though tracking shots in his high-rise downtown "Seattle" bank office with
faux Space Needle-view, where characters ratchet hyper-dialogue at one another as if trapped in some unfunny Preston
Sturges film or any number of those carbon-copy TV cop or hospital shows of which Americans are so damned
puzzlingly fond. You know the drill.
Fortunately, the familiarity is merely a ruse to cajole the masses to feel at ease, that Mr. Ford may quickly get a bad
feeling about this. This could be due to a bewildering board meeting at which are bandied about phrases such as
“philosophy of risk” and “reasonable level of fraud-loss” (What is this, the Bush administration?) while corporate meanie-
pants Robert Patrick glares at everybody and looks even less human than he did in Terminator 2. Or it could be due to
Robert Forster (Family Tree) being way too pleasant to have achieved a lofty corporate position (he’s outrageously
helpful about clearing up Jack’s apparent $95,000 online gambling debt; I used to get in trouble for legitimate Kinko’s
receipts). Or it’s somehow to do with Alan Arkin turning in another fun, energetic performance, even though, by the
look of it, he’d better hurry up if we’re going to get The Return of Captain Invincible II (which I would love). Or it
simply could be that Jack’s assistant is startlingly portrayed by strange comedienne Mary Lynn Rajskub -- who is
apparently an actor now. Maybe I’ll consider watching television.
I like looking at Mary Lynn Rajskub. Thank you for putting her in the movie.
These characters definitely complicate matters a bit (especially funky Rajskub, who declares “Screw you, Jack!” --
which is exactly what I used to say whilst reading all those damned spec scipts), but the real source of Jack’s bad
feeling is a fellow calling himself Bill Cox (Paul Bettany), who, if there were no such things as Reveal Absolutely
Everything Trailers (QUIT IT!), I’d feel bad about spoiling for you as the alleged villain here (more about that in a bit),
but who…well…is.
It’s probably Jack’s own fault that he doesn’t perceive, upon first brush, that Bill’s American accent is almost as
laughable as Madonna’s English one, but Han Solo never did have The Force, did he? In short order, Jack is hating life,
as Bill’s thugs -- who sport Actual Personality Traits -- smash into Jack’s house and hold hostage his family (possibly
inspired by watching Trapped -- another kidnap movie lensed in Seattle, Canada). Kinda as with Mel Gibson once he got
super-rich and paranoid, the Ransom here proves tricky, as does the Payback: Bill is precariously slow to explain his
plan, but the gist is that he wants Jack to rob his own bank -- not with a mask and gun, but with technology! Pretty cool
-- with all this keyboard-racing and iPod-rewiring, you’d think Ford was playing Murdock in The A-Team: The Movie
(unless…shudder..he is). Anyway, Bill wants Jack to yank, electronically, $10,000 U.S. from the accounts of the bank’s
10,000 richest customers. Then, he says, he’ll let Jack, Beth, and their stereotypical American children go free.
Now here’s the thing: Subtext. As with flabby old Jack Nicholson in Wolf, we have here sorta flabby, sorta old Harrison
Ford revealing his passionate loathing of Generation X -- most of whom are now faster, smarter and stronger than he.
Sure, sure, this loathing is masked by the plot itself, wherein Jack is “innocent” and Bill is “evil” -- however, the
ideologies behind these characters are truly fascinating and more complex than Good Guy Vs. Bad Guy. The payoff is
brutal and hasty (and a bit pyrotechnically ridiculous; it appears that Jack drives directly into the Unabomber’s lakeside
château -- incidentally interesting that Ford and Ted Kaczynski were both born in Chicago only a few weeks apart), but
the mad glee with which Jack crushes a man’s head with a heavy glass blender is truly, deeply disturbing. One hit would
have been adequate; he goes for three. Ford enraged is tops, but do we like this man?
That’s where I’m torn. Our hero starts out sluggish but he’s great here once he gets moving, even wagging that patented
finger not once but twice. Ford’s Shining Moment came two whole decades ago, in his finest and smartest film, Peter
Weir’s masterpiece, The Mosquito Coast (a performance from Ford I contend rests on a pinnacle with The Star Wars
Holiday Special, if for very different reasons), but nonetheless I admit I'm almost always happy to see him in whatever.
And yet…
Bill. Hm…
Frankly, lifting ten grand from a bunch of sickeningly wealthy people who’d never miss it sounds like a fine idea to me.
Keep reading! I’m not suggesting that crime pays (unless you’re a Bush), or that Bill’s character, as drawn, is in any
way sympathetic. Bill is very cruel and very greedy. Bill is not working for Amnesty International or Greenpeace or
Habitat for Humanity. Bill is a bad man. But -- notably -- not The Man, who is, essentially, Jack. What is carefully
omitted in this screenplay is exactly how Jack got so rich and influential, as well as what’s really motivating Bill (some of
which one can glean by watching Bettany roll around in the blood in Gangster No. 1).
Bill is utterly vile, no question, however there’s simply more as-yet-untapped potential in Bettany, whom Loncraine
sweetly directed last year in Wimbledon, and who represents not the fatcats who’ve had their day and are mercilessly
lunching upon ours, but MY generation (apart from the odd, lucky Pauline Kael stand-in), who are still putting up with
bloated Boomer bullshit left and right (even though Ford is technically too old to be classified as a Boomer). Plus Bettany
is very talented, knows his business (play a villain for Warner Bros. and your chances of nabbing The Joker skyrocket),
and has claimed perhaps the world’s greatest trophy-wife (at least, pre-Dark Water) -- the shallow pretty girl always
wants the fake bad boy, doesn’t she? Bettany’s only noteworthy flaws are that he smokes and puts up with Russell
Crowe (both habits being disgusting and retarded), but otherwise I’m rooting for him -- not in this movie, but in general.
All of which adds to the surprise-fascination of Firewall.There's more here than simply another blatant Chrysler plug à la
A History of Violence, or the climatic intrigue over why it rains constantly in Seattle when you need atmosphere -- but
clears up pronto when you need to use a laptop outside on the roof of a car. It’s weird -- themes which I consider to be
obvious to the point of abject boredom (It Hurts To Bang Another Cowboy, for example, or McCarthyism Was Bad) are
currently being treated as brilliant treatises upon the human condition, while the potential for a deceptively routine thriller
to creep under our skin is often overlooked or even mocked. Why is this?
My recommendation: Grab some snack with zero trans-fats and go see Firewall. In the present moment, it is an
engrossing thriller and stirring emotional ride, and it’s also an ideal time-capsule film. In thirty years or so, it will be
fascinating to view Firewall and look back upon our current fascination with and dependence upon electronic
doohickeys. Unless, by then, we have already succumbed as a species, and have become them.
Firewall
Entertainment Value: 11/13
Style: 10/13
Philosophical Insight: 8/13
-Gregory Weinkauf, 5 February, 2006
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