A powerful story of life on the border between the United States and Mexico, Bordertown is based on the hundreds of women working in American-owned factories who have been brutally raped and murdered in Juarez, a city gripped by fear. The attacks have been covered up by the local authorities, and still continue today. When editor of the Chicago Sentinel George Morgan (Sheen) sends ambitious reporter, Lauren Adrian (Lopez), to Juarez, Mexico to investigate the murders, what she finds is the story of a lifetime. Eva, a young woman who was raped and left for dead in the desert, is the only woman to survive an attack. Unable to go to the police for help, she turns to a local newspaper run by Diaz Alfonso (Banderas), former friend and colleague of Lauren s. Hiding Eva is incredibly dangerous, but Lauren knows that publishing her story is the only way to expose the truth behind the murders. She is determined to find Eva s attackers but soon finds herself immersed in a dangerous web of corruption that extends to both sides of the border.
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Much like the late Rodney Dangerfield, some films just can’t get any respect. Shelved by Miramax for two years, An Unfinished Life was released with little fanfare between Morgan Freeman’s Oscar win and Lasse Hallström’s higher-profile Casanova. Despite critical praise from some quarters, the heartland drama got lost amidst the shuffle. The title comes from the epitaph of Griffin, late son of Wyoming rancher Einar (a rumpled Robert Redford). Between chores, he looks after ranch hand Mitch (Freeman), who was mauled by a bear the year before. One day, daughter-in-law Jean (Jennifer Lopez) and granddaughter Griff (Becca Gardner) drop by the ranch unexpectedly. They’re on the run from Jean’s abusive boyfriend, Gary (Damian Lewis), back in Iowa. “I don’t want you here,” Einar states flatly–he blames her for Griffin’s death 12 years ago–but the look on the kid’s face convinces him to relent. While Jean works as a waitress in town and embarks on a tentative relationship with Sheriff Crane (Josh Lucas), his newfound granddaughter helps to take care of Mitch. Just as the four are starting to form a loose-knit family, Gary comes looking for Jean and upsets the delicate balance. It may pack fewer surprises than the superior What’s Eating Gilbert Grape and the bear symbolism may be a mite heavy-handed, but the deeply unfashionable An Unfinished Life deserves a second chance to find an audience. –Kathleen C. Fennessy
As an esteemed television journalist put out to pasture by the networks and faced with the engagement of her son, Jane Fonda is fierce, funny, and ready to rumble as the title character in Monster-in-Law in a way that the rest of the film itself never really is. Jennifer Lopez, the film’s other above-the-title star, is set to marry handsome, wealthy Michael Vartan but has one helluva time dealing with his insanely possessive mother. The result is pretty much what you’d expect–lots of snarls and slapstick and an easy, kisses-all-around conclusion, though it is surprising (and maybe a little disheartening) to watch Fonda throw herself into such disposable comedy with such gusto. Director Robert Luketic, who slept while Reese Witherspoon tottered off with his Legally Blonde, once again relies solely on the assembled talent: He leaves a high-wattage Lopez playing things a little too cute, a reedy Vartan looking visibly disinterested, and canny comedian Wanda Sykes making what she can–which, luckily, is a lot–of her role as Fonda’s wisecracking personal assistant (the type of black sidekick role that’s an indication of how creakily formulaic the film is). See it for Fonda, if you feel like it, then wish her a better engagement in the future. –Steve Wiecking
Something got lost in translation from 1996’s critically acclaimed Japanese comedy, but the American remake of Shall We Dance? is not without charms of its own. In being transplanted from Tokyo to Chicago, the original version’s subtle humor is shaken out of its cultural context, but this is an otherwise faithful adaptation in which a weary lawyer (Richard Gere) battles his mid-life crisis with ballroom dancing lessons, while his wife (Susan Sarandon) hires a private detective to see if he’s cheating. Those expecting a Jennifer Lopez showcase will be disappointed; her role as the melancholy dance instructor keeps the beautifully lovelorn J-Lo on the sidelines, while a cast of standard-issue supporting characters (especially Stanley Tucci’s clandestine faux-Latin dance lover) provide a generous dose of Hollywood-ized comic relief. All of this gives Shall We Dance? a polished sheen of mainstream entertainment that many viewers—and especially ballroom dancers–will find delightfully irresistible. –Jeff Shannon
Many critics called Gigli one of the worst movies ever made, but their condemnation isn’t entirely justified. The movie’s got plenty of problems, such as inconsistent tone, gag-inducing dialogue, and a meandering plot that fails to generate momentum over 124 minutes. And yet, this character-based vehicle for Hollywood sweethearts Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez is not without its charms: To begin with, there’s J-Lo, whose beauty and presence flourish despite her ill-conceived role as a lesbian contract killer. Critics were also wrong in saying Lopez lacks on-screen chemistry with her off-screen beau; there are moments when they click, but director Martin Brest’s screenplay maintains sexual confusion right up to an ending that’s a total cop-out. Affleck (who did the lesbian-love thing in Chasing Amy) plays another good-natured killer, and their joint kidnapping job (involving the mentally disabled brother of a federal prosecutor) is destined to fail for all the right reasons, even as this anti-romantic comedy (featuring scenery-chewing cameos by Christopher Walken and Al Pacino) fails for all the wrong ones. –Jeff Shannon
In the breezy Maid in Manhattan, a maid in a top-flight hotel (Jennifer Lopez, Out of Sight, The Wedding Planner) chances to dress in a guest’s clothes just when a handsome political candidate (Ralph Fiennes, Schindler’s List, Red Dragon) walks in. Naturally, he’s bowled over and pursues her; he’s initially drawn to her gorgeous good looks but soon comes to appreciate her honesty and common sense. Of course, she can’t let him know that she’s only a maid, and various high jinks ensue–it’s all pretty formulaic, but lurking in the edges of this glossy, brainless romance are a wealth of sly turns by Natasha Richardson and Amy Sedaris (as callow socialites), Bob Hoskins (as a dignified butler), Stanley Tucci (as Fiennes’ exasperated campaign manager), and many less familiar faces. All help to give Maid in Manhattan the life and texture that has been processed out of the main characters. –Bret Fetzer
Ridiculous, manipulative, and utterly irresistible, this push-button thriller instantly qualifies as a guilty pleasure, even when you know it’s just a B-movie potboiler with moxie to spare. Taking a savvy clue from Ashley Judd’s Double Jeopardy and any number of endangered-female melodramas from Hollywood’s golden age, Jennifer Lopez stars as a blue-collar beauty who marries the really wrong guy (Billy Campbell). Eventually, of course, she discovers his philandering and spends the rest of the movie in nomadic flight from his hot-tempered brutality. Bankrolled by her estranged father (Fred Ward), she protects her young daughter, but knowing she must face the inevitable showdown with Campbell, she buffs up with Krav Maga self-defense courses and… well, we won’t spoil the “surprise.” With Campbell doing everything but twirl his mustache, this shameless provocation is beneath the talents of director Michael Apted, but with J. Lo in charge, it’s a revenge fantasy that’s guaranteed to please. –Jeff Shannon
Angel Eyes is a mature and levelheaded drama about real people with authentic emotions, clawing through their own hurt and confusion toward a hopeful recovery. In a subtly effective performance as Chicago cop Sharon Pogue, Jennifer Lopez is both gutsy and vulnerable, using her badge as a shield against a past incident of domestic violence that left her estranged from her family and alone with her conviction that good deeds are not always rewarded. This leaves her open to the mysterious appeal of Catch (Jim Caviezel), a haunted loner whose slightly creepy demeanor is merely the cautious façade of a man who, ultimately, has as much to offer Sharon as she does to him. They connect–he saves her life, just as she had once saved his–and Angel Eyes proceeds to reveal the true and fateful depth of their love.
The good news is, yes, Jennifer Lopez can do comedy. In The Wedding Planner Lopez is Mary, a lovable woman who believes “those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t wed, plan!” Her slapstick moments are lighthearted and she is spot-on as the controlling, compulsive-yet-sweet planner. The bad news is Lopez didn’t get much of a vehicle in which to test drive her newfound comedic skills. Mary’s life is her career. Planning other people’s weddings takes all of her time, leaving no room for a love life of her own. Her only personal life is a Scrabble club, to which she and her father (Alex Rocco, whose wandering Italian accent is painful to listen to) belong. When a handsome young doctor (Matthew McConaughey) saves her from a collision with a runaway dumpster (really, it works), she is instantly wooed by his quiet charm. Too bad he’s the fiancé of Mary’s biggest client, Fran (played winningly by Bridgette Wilson-Sampras), the job that will launch Mary as a partner in her firm. The main problem with this film is that no one wants to hurt anyone else’s feelings. Everyone is just so gosh-darn nice. In a subplot, Mary’s father is trying to arrange her marriage to just the nicest Italian boy. Gee, he’s sweet. Golly, Fran is nice. Is there ever a way out of this mess and to leave everyone smiling? Yet, there is a touch of old-fashioned romance to this wholesome film, which can only be described as “cute.” And while things may unfold in a predictable manner, The Wedding Planner is still lighthearted fun of the sort that inspires dreamy romantic thoughts. –Jenny Brown
Schizoid serial killer Carl Stargher (Vincent D’Onofrio) has been captured at last, but a neurological seizure has rendered him comatose, and FBI agent Peter Novak (Vince Vaughan) has no way to determine the location of Stargher’s latest and still-living victim. To probe the secrets contained in Stargher’s traumatized psyche, the FBI recruits psychologist Catherine Deane (Jennifer Lopez), who has mastered a new technology that allows her to enter the mind of another person. What she finds in Stargher’s head is a theater of the grotesque, which, as envisioned by first-time director Tarsem Singh, is a smorgasbord of the surreal that borrows liberally from the Brothers Quay, Czech animator Jan Svankmajer, Hieronymous Bosch, Salvador Dali, and a surplus of other cannibalized sources. This provides one of the wildest, weirdest visual feasts ever committed to film, and The Cell earns a place among such movie mind-trips as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Altered States, What Dreams May Come, and Un Chien Andalou. Is this a good thing? Sure, if all you want is freakazoid eye-candy. If you’re looking for emotional depth, substantial plot, and artistic coherence, The Cell is sure to disappoint. The pop-psychology pablum of Mark Protosevich’s screenplay would be laughable if it weren’t given such somber significance, and Singh’s exploitative use of sadomasochistic imagery is repugnant (this movie makes Seven look tame), so you’re better off marveling at the nightmare visions that are realized with astonishing potency. The Cell is too shallow to stay in your head for long, but while it’s there, it’s one hell of a show. –Jeff Shannon
Out of Sight scored critical raves, but its title sums up the theatrical fate of Steven Soderbergh’s coolly comic crime caper and misfit romance based on Elmore Leonard’s novel. But this is the sort of buried treasure home video was created to rescue. George Clooney comes into his own as a leading man in the role of inveterate bank robber Jack Foley. Incarcerated, he uses another inmate’s prison break as a cover for his own escape. Waiting for him, according to plan, is his partner, Buddy (Ving Rhames). Also waiting for him, not according to plan, is federal agent Karen Sisco (the ravishing Jennifer Lopez). She finds herself disarmed in more ways than one when she is deposited in the getaway car’s trunk with Jack. But that doesn’t stop her from joining the task force created to capture him, while he plans “one last heist.” Out of Sight is a rich, entertaining film, stylish without being showy, faithful to the integrity of Leonard’s potent dialogue and quirky characters, and seamlessly acted by a dream ensemble. Standouts include Albert Brooks as convicted insider trader Richard Ripley, who while in prison brags to the wrong people that he has $5 million in uncut diamonds hidden in his house; Don Cheadle as Maurice (don’t call him “Snoopy”) Miller, with whom Jack warily teams up to steal said diamonds; Dennis Farina as Karen’s protective father (his idea of a birthday gift is a Sig-Hauer .38); and, in unbilled cameos, Michael Keaton, reprising his Jackie Brown role as FBI agent Ray Nicolet, and Samuel L. Jackson.
Oliver Stone used such words as “liberating” and “fun” to talk about U Turn’s relatively quick production schedule of 42 days. Stone’s ideas of film fun, however, are something older generations would call sick. This film is a Southwestern noir tale about Bobby Cooper (Sean Penn), a hotshot who is stuck in the tight confines of Superior, Arizona, when his car breaks down. His subsequent adventure is a meatball comedy–loud, obnoxious, and violent, and stuffed with diffused light, a hot cast, and a no-fat Ennio Morricone score. This film has plenty of odd characters, but you never really find out much about them. Bobby’s first encounters include a repulsive mechanic (Billy Bob Thornton under the grease) and a blind Indian (Jon Voight under the makeup). Then there’s Grace McKenna (a sizzling Jennifer Lopez), who is as dangerous as the curves of her red sundress. Bobby’s got time to kill, and Grace seems more than willing. Unfortunately, it seems that Bobby has never seen a movie such as A Touch of Evil; if he had, he would know it can only get worse. About the time Grace’s husband, Jake (Nick Nolte), shows up, Bobby is knee-deep in murder plots and double-crosses.
This giant-man-eating-snake-in-the-jungle thriller definitely scores points as a guilty pleasure, especially with Jon Voight hamming it up as the monster-poacher. He makes life miserable for a team of documentary filmmakers on the Amazon river. Anaconda is one of those movies that exists for no other reason than to give computer animators a chance to strut their stuff with a new digital beastie, and they don’t disappoint. It’s a lot of fun to watch the mega-snake scarf down its victims and–in the case of Voight–regurgitate ‘em right back up again, all covered in gooey digestive juices. You might wonder why Eric Stoltz, who plays Dr. Steven Cale, showed up for a role that requires him to be off-screen for most of the movie, but hey–when it comes to big snake movies, you might as well put your brain on hold and sit back for the slimy ride. –Jeff Shannon
Gregory Nava (Why Do Fools Fall In Love?) directs this more-or-less official film biography of the late Mexican-American singer, Selena Quintanilla Perez (the film is coproduced by her father), which emphasizes sentimentality over conflict and plays down the star’s horrific death at the hands of a deranged fan. Jennifer Lopez is quite good as Selena, whose roots we come to know through the story of her father (Edward James Olmos), a Corpus Christi singer who was rejected by white audiences. The script focuses primarily on Selena’s inspiring rise, and it tries to muster some sense of urgent conflict over not-particularly-contentious issues (such as her relationship with a guitarist). But Olmos does a fine job portraying the elder Perez as a possessive sort, and the music and general buoyancy of Lopez’s performance are infectious. The unavoidable subject of Selena’s killer–a woman who happened to be the president of her fan club–is considerably and oddly downplayed. –Tom Keogh
You can feel the gears grinding, trying to turn this attempt at film noir into something sleek and insinuating, instead of the labored near miss it turns out to be. Jack Nicholson is a Florida wine merchant whose business isn’t as good as he has his unhappy wife (Judy Davis) believe. He’s also consistently at odds with his churlish stepson (Stephen Dorff). Meanwhile, Nicholson is plotting to steal an expensive diamond necklace and dump his wife, aided by his mistress (Jennifer Lopez) and a sleazy safecracker (Michael Caine). It’s the kind of thing James M. Cain used to toss off effortlessly, but in director Bob Rafelson’s hands the strain shows at every seam as crime and romantic treachery put all of the characters on a violent collision course. –Marshall Fine
This attempt to reunite the stars of White Men Can’t Jump will most likely be remembered as the movie that allegedly inspired a number of copycat arsons in the New York subway system. In other words, the movie itself is too perfunctory to be remembered for any other reason. Woody Harrelson and Wesley Snipes share their established chemistry as a pair of stepbrothers who work the subway detail as undercover detectives in the NYPD. Woody’s a compulsive gambler with a huge debt problem to contend with, and he’s also competing with his brother for the attentions of their new and beautiful partner (Jennifer Lopez), who’s been assigned to join their investigation of the subway crimes. They’re also supposed to guard the daily money train (so named because it contains each day’s worth of subway fares), but Woody gets the bright idea that it might be the solution to his money woes. What follows is standard-issue action fare for the mid-1990s–lots of violence, excessive profanity, and attempts at witty banter between the costars to make it all seem more entertaining than it really is. You’d need to be a serious Harrelson, Snipes, or Lopez fan to add this movie to your collection. For anyone else, one viewing ought to be enough. –Jeff Shannon