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The new Nic Cage film, Gone in 60 Seconds, which opened last weekend, is an action film with little action, a thriller with few thrills, and a roller coaster of a film that merely coasts. Devoid of almost any suspense, it also has the virtues of being visually flaccid and morally bankrupt. Add in the complete betrayal of an amazing cast, and producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Dominic Sena have some mighty sins to pay for.

Where to begin with this waste of time? Certainly not the plot, which defies credulity. Nic Cage (Con Air) plays Memphis Raines, a reformed car thief who's blackmailed into one last heist. Why? To save his brother. His assignment? To steal fifty cars in three days. And not just any fifty. No, that would be too simple. It's in fact a list of specific cars--certain makes, models, and years. Of course, these rarities pose a much harder challenge. But even this is too easy for our hero. Seventy-two hours must be whittled to twelve, as Memphis wastes the first sixty eating breakfast and catching up with old friends.

This catching-up process takes the form of what I like to call "special moments." Even a cinema neophyte can pinpoint these scenes. Just look for the sudden appearance of a string section in an otherwise blaring soundtrack.

There are more "special moments" in 60 Seconds than there are car chases.First, Memphis shares a moment with his brother, then with his mom, and then with ex-girlfriend Sway (Angelina Jolie, Girl, Interrupted). Later in the film, the string section will prepare us for his meetings with old
partner Otto (sounds like 'auto'--get it?) and the detective who's trying to track him down (Delroy Lindo, Cider House Rules).

The dialogue in this travesty is equally abhorrent. Lines like a police detective's "we are talking professionals" are merely fatuous. Apparently, we're supposed to believe the detective, though our only reference point has been to watch these "professionals" hurl a brick through a car dealer's
plate glass window, rip open the key box, steal a key, and then drive a Porsche through another plate glass window. Smooth.

Other lines are just redundant: "I hear you were the best," someone tells Memphis, a fact already confirmed by Nic Cage's incredibly cool leather jacket. But some pieces of dialogue are vomit-inducing. At the climax of the movie, Lindo turns to Cage and remarks with no hint of irony, "A brother's love is a brother's love." It was at this point in the film that the ushers had to strap me down. 

This is a Jerry Bruckheimer film, however, so a coherent plot and intelligent dialogue are not only unnecessary but sometimes counter-productive. All I require from the maker of The Rock, Con Air, and Armageddon are some cool stunt sequences, a lot of explosions, and non-stop
excitement. And this is where 60 Seconds truly fails.

It's indicative that the first car crash is a student driver who gets nudged by a truck. At first, I thought that this was a clever joke, a prelude for the chaos to follow. In fact, it has to serve as not only the appetizer but the salad, dinner roll, and main course, while we impatiently wait for the dessert, which won't come for another hour. In between, we have Memphis and his gang of car thieves stealing 49 of the 50 cars. Instead of being exciting, though, this exercise is merely a boring formality. There's no tension, just a montage of quick shots, beautiful cars, and fancy gadgets. It's like watching someone work in their cubicle, and no one's paying money to do that. A much better approach would've been for Memphis to have to steal one very elusive car. Then the suspense could've built for an hour. Oh well.

Finally after I had started checking my watch every sixty seconds, I was treated to a bonafide car chase. But Dominic Sena (Kalifornia) films everything in close-up, leaving the audience completely unaware of what's going on. The few long shots we do see reveal stunt sequences of surprising
ineptitude. One involves a flying car that reminded me strangely of a children's show.

Can anything redeem this two-hour piece of crap? No, though the acting is quite good. Not Nic Cage, who wanders through the entire movie as if he's in a sleep-deprivation experiment. And not recent Oscar-winner Angelina Jolie whose screen-time is just enough for her to hesitantly kiss Memphis and then run to fix her impossibly ugly hairdo, which is unfortunately reminiscent of those in Battlefield Earth. But Robert Duvall as Otto gives another fine performance, Lindo is great as the obsessive police detective, and Chicago's own Chi McBride (Mercury Rising) acquits himself nicely as one of the thieves.

Otherwise, Gone in 60 Seconds is a disaster. Sena seems to think that quick camera movements and incongruous color filters will disguise the fact that he doesn't know what he's doing. Trevor Rabin's score is the worst sort of manipulation, and only the beautiful cars make any sort of impression. And this doesn't even touch the movie's most odious problem--the portrayal of a group of car thieves as cool, admirable, and morally superior. There is no remorse or even ambiguity about what's being done, as if this is merely one career choice and a particularly glamorous one at that. But it's not glamorous, and neither is this movie. 

J. Robert Parks 06/13/2000