Local theaters’ fare neither fresh nor entertaining

JOHN DEPKO

‘Twisted’s’ tired formula is DOA

Trying to bring a new twist to the old cop thriller formula,

Ashley Judd plays Jessica Shepard, a promiscuous female detective who

has just been promoted to work homicides. After a long day on the

job, she likes to cruise rowdy bars in rough neighborhoods and take

home the bad boy who happens to catch her eye that night. The plot

thickens quickly as the victim in her very first murder case turns

out to be a brutally beaten young man whom she recently took home for

a hot one night stand.

But that’s only the beginning of her psychological baggage. We

learn that her father was a cop who went berserk, killing her mother

and several other people when Jessica was only a child. Her father’s

old partner, who raised her as his own daughter, is now the police

chief. He monitored her police career and approved her recent

promotions. He decides Jessica should stay on the case in spite of

her disturbing connection to the victim.

Jessica then begins a frequently repeated pattern. After working,

she comes home and drinks red wine until she passes out. When she

awakes, she is called to a new homicide scene where -- you guessed it

-- each victim is a former sexual partner beaten to death like all

the others. Jessica becomes the logical prime suspect in the serial

killer case she is working as the lead detective.

Incredibly, the chief insists that she stay on the case even as

the bodies of her old boyfriends keep piling up. If this plot

development makes little sense, neither do the rest of the contrived

situations required to resolve this convoluted story. The usually

excellent Samuel L. Jackson and Andy Garcia are simply wasted as they

sleepwalk through this second-rate crime drama to its improbable and

ludicrous conclusion. “Twisted” is a major studio production, but TV

cop shows like “Law and Order” churn out more believable stories

every week than this expensive and mediocre effort. Wait for cable.

* JOHN DEPKO is a Costa Mesa resident and a senior investigator

for the Orange County public defender’s office.

‘Dancing’ not as fun under Communist rule

Despite the lingering feelings of pure, distorted hatred among the

Cuban people toward their leader, dance finds its way as a central

force in the healing of such enmity between the government and its

people.

Pouring into the streets are the natives sharing their heritage in

the form of music and movement only meant to be understood by their

people. But some cannot comprehend this example of social culture. In

1958, Cubans were shunned in shame off the city streets and punished

for expressing their emotions through song. Katey Miller, an American

girl submerged in this atmosphere of derision and disrespect, allows

herself to mix Cuban tradition and her own history, but not without

developing a passion for a new avocation.

Upon arriving in Cuba amid the pressure of her senior year in high

school, Katey Miller finds herself exploring the culture of her new

surroundings and putting herself in a vulnerable situation that tests

her strengths as an individual. Although she surrounds herself with

family and other Americans residing in Cuba, she is trapped within

her own society. In being absorbed by the rhythmic customs she

encounters in this foreign nation, she meets a Cuban native, Javier

Suarez, who shows her the alluring and tempting nights of Havana from

the perspective of its people.

In being exposed to such life, Katey, with much help from Javier,

makes it her ambition to learn this dance, adds her own dimension and

creates an new interpretation. As both of her parents were

professional ballroom dancers, she incorporates these skills into the

Cuban ensemble to form an eligible piece for competition. Together,

Katey and Javier form an alliance on the dance floor and compete

together as partners in a dance contest. In spite of the

discrimination and prejudice attacking their friendship, neither of

them revoke their love for dance, which allows them to suppress the

bias.

This version of “Dirty Dancing” is compiled of much more

historical significance than the original, although the original had

a much thicker plot and characterization. Similarities include

selection of specific songs and discrete parallels between

characters. Patrick Swayze makes a guest appearance as a dance

instructor, though his greatest performance is exemplified in the

original.

Because of the uniqueness that this film portrays, it’s not to say

that the original is far better, but that it has more depth in terms

of heart and aspiration. Each film has its distinctive qualities of

desire to dance and the element of preconception by others, but

compared to the first, this film’s individuality is mostly derived

from Cuban nationalism and politics.

* SARA SALAM attends Corona del Mar High School as a sophomore.

‘Euro’-trash is a word that comes to mind

About halfway into “Eurotrip,” I looked around at the four or five

people sitting around me, pondering what drove them to choose this

horrid film over Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” (playing

next door). On one hand, you have a controversial, critically

acclaimed film about history’s most significant figure; on the other,

you have a film that focuses so much on breasts and thighs that you

feel like you’re at KFC.

To be fair, the first third of “Eurotrip” seemed decent: Scott, a

recent high school graduate, loses his girlfriend, mistakenly

identifies his beautiful German pen pal for a gay male, and rushes to

Europe to apologize and win her over. On the way there, he reunites

with two other friends (a twin brother and sister), and all of them

begin their perverted romp to Berlin.

After many bearable and amusing moments, the film takes a drastic

turn toward idiotic and raunchy comedy. None of the scenes are as

stupid as when Scott’s best friend goes to an Amsterdam sex show,

where he is sodomized because of his failure to say “stop” in the

appropriate language. How the director or producers found this even

remotely funny is perplexing.

Indeed, the film is unrelenting in its attempt to deliver

“American Pie”-esque gags. Unfortunately, it has an immeasurably

difficult time delivering anything similar in nature. Whereas

“American Pie” had charming characters and witty lines, this film is

blatantly void of creativity and intelligence.

Perhaps the best word to describe “Eurotrip” is gratuitous.

Minutes tick by at an agonizingly slow pace while the film tries to

incorporate some flimsy topless character. High-testosterone males

who desire to watch this film strictly for this reason may get what

they paid for, but they’ll feel cheated all the same: there is hardly

anything memorable -- or even sexy -- about these scenes. What

strikes you is how irrelevant, unseemly and stupid these crude scenes

turn out to be.

Thus, when I had finished scanning the theater for intelligent

life, I realized how embarrassing it was to be seen at such a movie.

I sank into my seat a little lower that day, wondering whether my

suffering was anywhere near that of the main character next door.

It’s highly doubtful, but “Eurotrip” is a painful trip nonetheless.

* ANDREW NGUYEN is a Costa Mesa resident.