Kelly WandUncle Sam
October 1st 2006 06:24
Director William Lustig has, for some, achieved a kind of cult status. You might remember him from such films as “Maniac”, “Maniac Cop” and “Vigilante”. Then again, you may not. The simple truth is this; the guy ain’t that good. At best, he is efficient but news of a new release bearing his name is hardly going to have you turning cartwheels.
I’d like to be able to tell you that “Uncle Sam” is an exception to this rule but I can’t. There is a germ of a good idea here; just enough to sell it to the investors.
Larry Cohen is a far more reasonable candidate for cult director. He made such films as “It’s Alive”, “Q the Winged Serpent” and “Stuff”. I’m not saying he’s the world’s greatest director but his films are generally coherent and entertaining. He wrote the script for “Uncle Sam” and it is either two drafts away from being decent or Lustig had no grasp of what the material was about. I could say you can decide for yourself but I cannot, in good conscience, advise any course of action that may involve you sitting through this monstrosity.
Sargent Sam Harper got taken out during the first gulf war thanks to friendly fire. If you listen to the family, you’ll think it was no great loss. He was an abusive brother and husband with a taste for killing for its own sake. Only his ten year old nephew admires him and you know a film maker is skirting dangerous territory when you know the ten year old is going to have to save the day.
The problem is, Sam won’t stay dead. He’s out to avenge himself upon draft dodgers, dope smokers, tax cheats, politicians, bad singers, flag burners and people who poorly park their vehicles. The film paints its victims in such a poor light that you have no sympathy for them. Uncle Sam, however, remains completely unlikable. It’s as if one of those radio talkback hosts (so beloved of taxi drivers) was granted the power of their prejudice in supernatural form. There is no horror because no-one seems affected by the murder and mayhem. There is no atmosphere because everything is lit up like a scene from a television soap opera.
I tried really hard to imagine that this was all part of someone’s attempt at social satire. It sounds like it should be, doesn’t it? Certainly, various actors get to churn out some deep and meaningful opinions on war and the like. There is a rather touching poem over the end credits. One really gets the sense there was a good film here somewhere but no-one seems to have found it.
One could say that at least this film gave actors like P J Soles something to do but the truth is it doesn’t. Poor P J is just there to lend her name to the credits and fill an underwritten void on the screen. Isaac Hayes tries his best to give a decent performance but it is clear he is being given no direction. For Lustig, the story just seems to get in the way of killing people and blowing shit up. Timothy Bottoms, Bo Hopkins and Robert Forster all queue up for a pay cheque. They should be ashamed of themselves. They don’t even have the decency to phone in a performance.
Tech heads might be impressed by the fire stunts but it is a big ask to watch eighty eight minutes of tripe for two minutes of spectacle. Avoid.
I’d like to be able to tell you that “Uncle Sam” is an exception to this rule but I can’t. There is a germ of a good idea here; just enough to sell it to the investors.
Larry Cohen is a far more reasonable candidate for cult director. He made such films as “It’s Alive”, “Q the Winged Serpent” and “Stuff”. I’m not saying he’s the world’s greatest director but his films are generally coherent and entertaining. He wrote the script for “Uncle Sam” and it is either two drafts away from being decent or Lustig had no grasp of what the material was about. I could say you can decide for yourself but I cannot, in good conscience, advise any course of action that may involve you sitting through this monstrosity.
Sargent Sam Harper got taken out during the first gulf war thanks to friendly fire. If you listen to the family, you’ll think it was no great loss. He was an abusive brother and husband with a taste for killing for its own sake. Only his ten year old nephew admires him and you know a film maker is skirting dangerous territory when you know the ten year old is going to have to save the day.
The problem is, Sam won’t stay dead. He’s out to avenge himself upon draft dodgers, dope smokers, tax cheats, politicians, bad singers, flag burners and people who poorly park their vehicles. The film paints its victims in such a poor light that you have no sympathy for them. Uncle Sam, however, remains completely unlikable. It’s as if one of those radio talkback hosts (so beloved of taxi drivers) was granted the power of their prejudice in supernatural form. There is no horror because no-one seems affected by the murder and mayhem. There is no atmosphere because everything is lit up like a scene from a television soap opera.
I tried really hard to imagine that this was all part of someone’s attempt at social satire. It sounds like it should be, doesn’t it? Certainly, various actors get to churn out some deep and meaningful opinions on war and the like. There is a rather touching poem over the end credits. One really gets the sense there was a good film here somewhere but no-one seems to have found it.
One could say that at least this film gave actors like P J Soles something to do but the truth is it doesn’t. Poor P J is just there to lend her name to the credits and fill an underwritten void on the screen. Isaac Hayes tries his best to give a decent performance but it is clear he is being given no direction. For Lustig, the story just seems to get in the way of killing people and blowing shit up. Timothy Bottoms, Bo Hopkins and Robert Forster all queue up for a pay cheque. They should be ashamed of themselves. They don’t even have the decency to phone in a performance.
Tech heads might be impressed by the fire stunts but it is a big ask to watch eighty eight minutes of tripe for two minutes of spectacle. Avoid.
| 66 |
| Vote |
subscribe to this blog