Saturday

I believe I have already, on these very pages, complained about the enigma that is Tony Scott. My prejudice was somewhat muted by the recent Deja Vu, which I thought wasn't half bad. Hopefully he's now curbed some of his more distracting tendencies. However, last night I saw his effort from 2004, Man on Fire, in which his direction is probably more annoying than ever. Denzel Washington is hired to protect the daughter of a rich Mexican family. When she is kidnapped, he goes on a hunt for the perpetrators. It wouldn't seem to you (or me) that this plot-line calls for any unnecessary stylistics, but Tony Scott gives them to us anyway. At times, I actually found this movie painful to watch. Every emotion or action is accompanied by its own camera movement and music, photographic effect, exaggerated cut or flashback. There's nothing subtle about it. He can't just let the story be told. The audience is never allowed to interpret anything for themselves. They're forced to view it the way he wants them to view it. Having said this, after initially wanting to change the channel, I was interested to see what would happen - perhaps mainly because of the interesting subplot involving swimming. And, to undermine any remaining credibility as a critic of this film, I then fell asleep and so don't know how it ends. I may be wrong, but I suspect he finds the girl and everyone lives happily ever after. Although, saying that, the tone of the violence was quite brutal so I suspect Denzel doesn't survive, which may go some way to explain the film's lack of popular success.