In general, I’m trying to keep a positive tone to this blog, promoting things I’m enjoying—and there are a lot of them. Occasionally, however, I feel the need to discuss something that has offended my sensibilities (whether to warn you away from them, or perhaps simply as personal therapy), which brings me to A&E’s adaptation of Michael Chrichton’s 1969 novel The Andromeda Strain, which started his career as best-selling author.
Last night my spouse and I sat down to watch some TV before bed and stumbled across Crank in our “ShowTime On Demand” listings. Although one of my daughters had warned against the film, saying, “It’s worse than Transporter 2,” (and I pretty much hated Transporter 2), we gave it a try.
Movies made from old TV series often leave me cold. (Remember the first Star Trek film? We waited 10 years for that turd?) All too often, the director or producers or writers are too young to appreciate the original—or worse, they feel the need to prove themselves better than the originators, and in failing to accomplish that, they ruin the project.
Robert Downey Jr. as a small-time thief mistaken for a fledgling actor. Val Kilmer as a tough, gay private eye. More plot twists than a bag of four-dimensional pretzels in a tornado. The quintessential noir murder mystery in full color. This one goes to eleven, squared.
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