+ another review by Cynthia Fuchs
Unreal
At the beginning of Dominic Sena's Swordfish, our
villain/antihero Gabriel Shear (John Travolta) waxes
on about the lack of "realism" in contemporary cinema.
As he asserts, the problem with Hollywood today is
that "they make shit, unbelievable, unremarkable
shit." Case in point: Swordfish. I suppose that in
this opening scene the film is trying to be all
self-aware, and jokey, and (dare I say it) "ironic."
That is, we know that this is going to be a balls-out,
blow-'em-up action flick and thus totally devoid of
any "realism" or "believability." Nonetheless,
Swordfish's irony fails. It identifies the symptom
of an ailing Hollywood and goes on to reproduce the
illness -- one astonishingly shitty action movie.
The story is a paranoid fantasy about terrorism and cyber-crime, and in these pre-occupations Swordfish seems kind of outdated. Is it just me, or does the
threat of domestic terrorist attacks and hacker crime
seem like so much millennial, apocalyptic, pre-2000
claptrap? Anyway, world famous hacker Stanley Jobson
(Hugh Jackman) -- get it? He's like Steve Jobs' son --
is trying to reorganize his post-Leavenworth life when
along comes sexy babe Ginger (Halle Berry) with a job
offer from Gabriel that he can't refuse. Even though
he's prohibited from even touching a computer by the
terms of his parole, he's clearly itching to get back
to the screen, and pretty quickly takes the offer: to
code a program that will infiltrate governmental
computer files and steal billions of dollars. There is
a rather elaborate story behind where these billions
of "extra" governmental dollars have come from, but
it's really rather immaterial. This is essentially all
you need to know of the film's story; you can imagine
the rest with very little exertion.
Like many action flicks, Swordfish's narrative plays
second fiddle to the film's stunt work and the stars'
sex appeal. So when we first meet Stanley, he is
driving golf balls off the top of his trailer home,
wrapped in nothing but a bath towel, with the sun
glinting nicely off his chiseled pecs. And Halle Berry
gets in on the action, baring her breasts for all to
see in a poolside sunbathing scene. Yet Swordfish's
oddest and oddly sexiest moment is when Stan returns
to his illicit computer activities to code a
cyber-worm on Gabriel's fancy new computer system.
Stan is clearly in love with the computer and with his
own ability to manipulate it. Drinking wine and
smoking while he taps away on the keyboards, Stan
works himself into a sort of masturbatorial frenzy,
and when his program is finally finished, he jumps up
and repeatedly thrusts his hips at the machinery,
whooping and hollering. Talk about cyber-sex.
Masturbation is one of Swordfish's recurrent
secondary themes. In addition to Stan fucking his new
computer, we have nerdy government techies goggling
over internet porn babes, and Stan's ex-wife as one of
those said babes. Gabriel goes on about how
fly-fishing is "like masturbation without the
pay-off," and we have no shortage of big guns being
stroked and shot off throughout. Perhaps this
obsession with self-pleasure is an attempt to subvert
the homoerotics at play in all testosterone-driven
action films; hey, there's no homo desire here, all
these hetero guys are (at least verbally,
figuratively) jerking off over hot babes. Typically,
to shore up the threat of its own homoerotics,
Swordfish wraps up our two lead boys in a
heterosexual love triangle with Ginger.
The film also promotes Stan's heterosexuality through
his fatherhood. Stan's motivation for returning to a
life of techno-crime is to get custody of his daughter
Holly (Camryn Grimes) from Melissa (Drea de Matteo),
his alcoholic porn star ex-wife. The film goes to
great lengths to proclaim what a dedicated father Stan
is, most directly by totally demonizing Melissa, whose
new husband produces porn films in the family living
room. Repeatedly, Swordfish anxiously tries to
assert its heterosexual credentials, and fails (as in
the obvious eroticism between Stan and Gabriel). This
is also what is most enjoyable about the film, to see
it succumb at every turn to homosexual panic. But in
the end, like so much else about Swordfish, its
pervasive homo panic is nothing new to the action
genre.
Okay, the story is lame, formulaic, and a bit
outdated, but what about the special effects?
Shouldn't they carry the film anyhow? There is one
decent scene at the beginning when an innocent hostage
is turned into a human Claymore mine and blows up on
the street, shredding everything in the explosion's
path. The scene is shown in slo-mo, with a panning
360-degree camera shot that captures many of the steel
ball bearings that were inside the explosives as they
destroy cars, policemen, and buildings. It's a pretty
neat-o affair. (Unfortunately, the filmmakers were so
delighted with it they felt it necessary to re-play
the explosion at the end of the film. Once was really
enough.) Except for this one scene, however, the rest
of Swordfish's f/x are pretty standard. The final
chase scene is particularly lame. Forget about what
leads up to it, but as the bad guys make their escape
on a bus full of hostages/human bombs, a big freight
helicopter, piloted by a rather inept member of
Gabriel's gang, comes and picks up the bus to swoop
them away from the police escort and this police
orchestrated "get away."
This brings us to the stunt in the film, where the
bus and helicopter fly around downtown Los Angeles,
bouncing off skyscrapers and generally causing mayhem.
At one point, one of the hostages falls out of the bus
and as he descends his bomb goes off, taking him and
several floors of a building with it. While the human
bomb is a morbidly funny touch, the rest of the scene
is painfully, desperately trying to give us something
"new," some stunt crazier and more daring than we have
ever seen. Unsurprisingly, it fails. Maybe it would be
better if the preceding 80 minutes weren't so awful,
but probably not.
What is most distressing about Swordfish is John
Travolta. More and more, Travolta is becoming a
caricature of himself as action anti/hero. Gabriel
Shear is strikingly similar to a number of previous
Travolta characters, like Face/Off's Castor Troy,
Mad City's Sam Bailey, Broken Arrow's Vic
Deakins, or even Pulp Fiction's Vince Vega. In
Swordfish, Travolta's performance is terrible and
over-the-top, like some drag-king camping and vamping
generic masculine codes. He has a rep as the
"come-back kid," whose career has had more ups and
downs than the most elaborate roller coaster. Maybe
someone should tell him it's time to disappear again
for a few years, so that he can "come back." If he
keeps appearing in films like Swordfish, he will
(hopefully) soon reach the point of no career return.