Oldboy is a prime example of how not to write a screenplay. Having neither read the original comic nor seen the original film that this one was based on, I don't know whether to blame the source material or the screenplay's author, but this movie is rife with one of the worst sins that a plot can have. And the sad thing is, I started off really interested and somewhat liking this movie.
Our story opens on Joe Doucett, an advertising executive who
is a chronic alcoholic, horrible to his wife, neglectful to his daughter, and a
giant asshole whenever he thinks he can get away with it. His comeuppance quickly gets served, though,
as he is nabbed off the street and imprisoned alone in what appears to be a
motel room. He starts to gradually lose
his mind in his isolation, with only his television as company. However, he sees in a news report that he has
been framed for the rape and murder of his wife, leaving his three-year-old
daughter as an orphan. Fast-forward over
the next twenty years, and Joe has turned himself into an alcohol-free fighting
machine, self-trained through exercise tapes and martial arts movies. He has vowed to escape his prison, exact
revenge on those who imprisoned him, and find his daughter. Josh Brolin handles portraying this
transformation well, even if it does come off as a bit of a contrived
redemption when his change of heart isn't even the focus of the movie.
Unfortunately, Brolin can't save the movie from itself. In the course of a potentially successful
escape attempt, Joe is knocked unconscious and wakes up... outside his prison
in a suitcase. Alright, I guess I'll
roll with it. And then he runs into a
nurse who... feels the need to come to his rescue later in the movie after
having barely met the guy. And of
course, she becomes his love interest.
You see, here is where the movie starts to fall apart. Plot points just start happening without any
provocation. As an audience member, one
can see how the movie is going from Point A to Point B, but the internal logic
to the characters' actions and motivations is shaky at best. Why is it that when Joe brings his story of
being locked in a room for twenty years and being framed for his wife's murder
to his bartender friend, that friend doesn't question that ridiculous story in
the slightest? When Joe collapses from
exhaustion, why does the friend call 911, then hang up on 911 and call that
nurse instead? Pure plot convenience, that's
why. The writer needed a way to move the
story along, and he was too lazy to come up with a good reason why anything
needed to happen the way it does. And
the plot ultimately resolves itself into one of the most amazingly contrived
plot twists I've ever seen. I won't
spoil it in case anyone decides to actually watch this disaster, but I will say
that it's something that could have worked decently well if the film hadn't
bungled its plotting so horribly along the way.
With the exception of Brolin and a later-introduced Samuel
L. Jackson, the performances range from being wooden and lifeless to
cartoonishly over the top. Brolin does
well with his scenes of isolation in the first half of the film, and, though
silently brooding for the rest, works well with the script he was given. Jackson's role seems pretty much written for
him, being his larger than life badass self in what is, unfortunately, an all too
fleeting role. However, as much as
these two are a joy to watch in most other roles they fill, their talent is
severely underutilized here in this pathetic tale where every
other actor is clearly either trying too hard or disinterested in even trying at
all.
If you are hoping that some fun action scenes can save this
storytelling train wreck, then I'm sorry to inform you that just isn't the
case. Most of Joe's kills happen in a
matter of seconds, and while gratuitous, they aren't really anything new or
spectacular. A couple of nameless
baddies get their heads smashed in with a hammer. Whoopee.
The only thing that resembles an actually realized fight scene is shot
on a two-dimensional plane, where a bunch of guys surround Joe and wait for him
to beat them all up one at a time. It
felt like I was watching someone play a high-def version of a 1980s beat-em-up
game. It was lazy cinematography, lazy
choreography, and lazy directing.
In fact, that's exactly the right word for this movie:
lazy. I know that Spike Lee is a better
director than this, and something tells me that he only agreed to do this film
as part of a deal to get funding for a better movie. The entire production feels phoned in and
seems like what a studio executive would think is a great way to squeeze a few
more dollars out of the original international hit movie. Don't waste your time with this one,
folks. It deserves to be locked away
like its protagonist, but never let back out.
So what are your thoughts?
Was this the scathing criticism you wanted to see? Or do you think I was too hard on the old
boy? (Ha, get it? Old boy?
Oldboy? ...Shut up. I thought it was funny.) Leave a comment below and let me know what
you think.
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