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What Noise? Hesitantly, I give this
film a Solid rating. Almost universally panned, the
film has stirred up little conversation among the world of
film buffs, aside to mention out of hand that it was a gross
waste of time. The paranormal crowd has, as well
represented by the radio show
Coast to Coast AM with George Noory (scroll to the
bottom), acknowledged the film gleefully, not for its
execution but more for how well it brings to national
attention a rather important issue for them. Even
they, however, are not rallying behind the film. Yet,
I, your trusted HUGEReviewer, am giving it a Solid.
Hesitantly. Why? Because I did, after
all was said and done, enjoy the experience of watching most
of it. At times it was a tad chilling, not
overwhelming mind you, but chilling. It was a little
scary, once they found the plotline somewhere in the mire of
bizarre occurrences. It was even, occasionally, a
little touching. The film however, suffers
from the same thing as another movie I've recently seen.
Like Michael Winterbottom's slow-moving Code 46, White Noise
fails to remember that, when creating a new mythology,
whether that be sci-fi, fantasy or supernatural/horror, you
need to give the viewer all the rules. You don't need
to be as ridiculous as Final Destination 1, where a badly
acted character needs to turn up to churn out for the main
characters what he literally calls "the rules." But
you do have to give the audience all the information,
quickly and interestingly, that they will need to understand
the story you are going to bring them into.
White Noise's most major error is the failure to do just
this. While the film, once it speeds up a tad, is
riddled with epiphanies and revelations galore, everything
leading to the films climax, and I use the term loosely, is
somehow left out. Why? I don't care how talented
you are with suspense as a director, or how good you are
with tension as a writer, if the audience doesn't understand why
something is happening, it's not going to scare them. As
a result, as the action mounts in the last third of the
movie, rather than feeling the rush of fear and anxiety, I
found myself thinking what? You simply
can not create villains at the very end of a film. You
simply can not make physical the spiritual without
explanation. And you absolutely can not create a last
minute threat that has no personality. You can't do it
and make a film that I will be swept away in. A good
entertainment picks up the audience, grabs them by the
heart, the stomach, the balls, whatever its aim is, and
doesn't let them go until said body part has not only been
removed, but skewered. There can be no
skewering when the audience is not watching the movie, but
attempting to replay it in their head during the climax to
figure out what it was that they missed that might have
explained the debacle before them. I'll
admit, I kind of expected this going in. I went to see
the movie mostly out of respect for a great actor, Michael
Keaton. I found myself concentrating on his face,
though, through most of the film. One of the things my
father is fond of saying is, "Age is a bitch." My
goodness, Mr. Keaton must know that. Wrinkles like
riverbeds crisscross his face, and a thousand crows seem to
have trodden around his eyes since last we saw him.
The film, unfortunately, doesn't even give him any leeway to
showcase his immense talent, aside from a few of his classic
faces, which now look borderline retarded on him.
Worse than all that was the kid behind me in the theater,
the little bastard who wouldn't shut up, who said in not a
whisper to his buddy, "You know who that guy is? He
was in Jack Frost." I wanted to cry.
He's Michael Keaton, you stupid little jerk! He's One
Good Cop! He's Clean and Sober! He's Mr. Mom,
Beetlejuice, and the main part of The Dream Team. He's
freakin' BATMAN! But then I looked back at the screen,
saw him make an old face, thought of his last few flicks,
and thought, hell, is he really just Jack Frost now?
Wow. I just trashed a Solid movie. Yet, I'm
going to stick to my rating. Watch it on a plane,
watch it at 4 in the morning when you can't sleep.
It's an adequate diversion. The first two thirds are
quite good, slow but interesting. It's the moment when
an explanation must be given that, like most modern horror
movies, White Noise falls apart. Maybe having read
this, you'll enjoy it more than I did, just go along for the
ride, knowing that figuring anything out is fruitless, and
just enjoy the chill you'll get at several images, a few
shrieks and one or two jumps. And when it's
over, say a little prayer. This is not how we want to
see Michael Keaton go out. Maybe Fate'll throw a
little Dennis Quaid style resurrection his way. |