‘Trinity’ gives life to vampire flicks

EVAN MARMOL

“Blade Trinity” is by leaps and bounds the most different vampire

movie that I have ever seen. By no means the best, but as innovative

and entertaining as a movie of this genre could ever aspire to be.

The typical, boilerplate plot involves legions of ghoulish, or

irresistibly gorgeous, vampires slaking their thirst on hapless

virgins until the hunter tracks them down to impale them. Even the

first two Blade predecessors are guilty of this platitude. This

popcorn thriller is something else though.

The pace of “Blade Trinity” is absolutely staggering. Sequence

after sequence reveals and intrigues more than the last. The gist is

both convoluted with whimsy and sentiment, and straightforward and

dangerously sharp. Blade’s only confidant, friend and mentor Whistler

(Kris Kristofferson) meets an untimely demise. A jaded Blade

surrenders to police only to be rescued from certain death by Abigail

Whistler (Jessica Biel) and Hannibal King (Ryan Reynolds). From there

the script gets even crazier.

Danica Talos (Parker Posey), Jarko Grimwood (Triple H) and a

dangerous cadre manage to resurrect Blade’s arch nemesis Dracula.

Their clandestine mission to use Dracula to assassinate Blade and

harvest the blood of humanity can only be prevented by Blade and his

new motley crew.

The film uses fascinating modern technology, not excluding viral

weaponry. The flick is also imbued with enough comic relief to fill

the massive holes in the sub par dialogue. I mean, who can’t laugh

when Dracula calls Bram Stoker’s masterpiece a “pathetic fable.” My

only grouse with the film is that other than this line Dominic

Purcell absolutely flat-lines as Dracula. He is supposed to be the

most diabolic character in fiction and he really isn’t scarier than a

Pomeranian.

As a whole, the film is hip, funny and a thrill ride.

‘Fockers’ more of the same, which is good

“Meet the Fockers” is a difficult film to review.

The flick was phenomenal in many aspects. It had outrageously

funny slapstick, pithy repartee, sardonic jesting and countless play

on words with the infamous surname, Focker. It was its exceptional

predecessor that made the appellation Focker a household name, and

left audiences slavering for more.

The only problem is that more is exactly what they got, just

amplified. It was bigger, more flamboyant, sordid but primarily just

more of the same.

Kudos for signing the ensemble cast of Robert De Niro, Ben

Stiller, Dustin Hoffman, Barbra Streisand, Blythe Danner and Teri

Polo. And congrats for making a disingenuous film aimed at making a

buck with lewdness and toilet humor; when I say toilet I literally

mean toilet. A bit of advice for De Niro and Stiller, though, lovely

men and great actors but the shtick is getting hackneyed.

Then again, with such superb actors and a tried and true product,

you would probably cause some internal hemorrhaging if you tried to

hold in the laughter.

Here is a brief synopsis, for the two people out there that have

not seen the first installment. Gaylord Myron Focker (Stiller) is

preparing for his nuptials with his willowy and stunning fiancee Pam

Byrnes (Teri Polo). The first film is all about winning the affection

of his future father in law Jack Byrnes (De Niro), a possessive,

austere, and staid ex-CIA agent. This film is about introducing the

Byrne’s to the Focker’s in which Gaylord makes a valiant effort at

sheltering the Byrnes from the eccentricities and quirkiness of his

family (Hoffman and Streisand) to maintain the tenuous bond that he

has forged with his Jack.

Most of the humor is all there in the teaser trailers. There is a

diabolical toilet-flushing cat, a Tidy Bowl-dyed blue dog. A few

other jokes are thrown in about a possible illegitimate child,

Gaylord’s sexually liberal parents, and their respective professions,

and other outlandish twists.

Overall, it is the trite but familiar and pleasing narrative that

really makes the movie worth the trip to the theater and a couple of

bucks, and a few laughs. You know what to expect, and you’ll get a

hefty serving of sidesplitting laughter.

‘Series of Unfortunate Events’

“Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events” was actually

just one horrendous, atrociously long event.

To sum it up neatly, the movie was too dark to be a children’s

movie and too childish for a dark comedy; too pedestrian to be

perversely funny and too perversely uncomfortable to be palatable;

too sentimental for a boisterous laugh, and just too long.

The gist is about as threadbare as they come. When the parents of

Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire perish in a tragic fire, the

children are left as orphans with deep pockets. Enter Count Olaf (Jim

Carrey), a distant relative, and dastardly charlatan. He assumes the

guardianship of the Baudelaire children with the malevolent motive of

embezzling their inheritance.

The movie would like you to believe that these children each

possess a special ability that contributes to outsmarting the Count

and his sinister scheming. The plot, though, is so cumbersome, clumsy

and cloying, that the children’s antics are hardly as entertaining as

desired.

Carrey, for his part, did his shtick ad nauseam, and only

distracted from a film that could have had some potential. His

overacting completely overpowered every other aspect that had any

redeeming quality.

The supporting cast was very deep including: Jude Law, Meryl

Streep, Dustin Hoffman and Catherine O’hara, and even they could not

bail enough water to keep this Titanic from plunging into the abyss

of disingenuous boredom. It is so depressing to witness such wasted

star power.

Moviegoer’s sounded bored, flummoxed and angry; and these were the

people that managed to stay awake. Wait about five to six years for

this one to show up on network television, and then make an effort to

miss it deliberately.

* EVAN MARMOL is Laguna Beach resident. He graduated from UC

Irvine with a degree in psychology and social behavior. He can be

reached at Evan_Marmol@hotmail.com.