Running time: 90 minutes
Starring: Samuel L Jackson, Robert Carlyle, Emily Mortimer, Ricky Tomlinson, Sean Pertwee, Rhys Ifans
Rating 3 out of 10
Much has been written about writer Stel Pavlou's attempts to get this, his debut screenplay, made into a big screen action comedy. Variously writing it when not working as a cabbie or in an off-license, it is seen as a story to inspire other smalltime and wannabe moguls that it is possible to break into the film world. Unfortunately, the resulting film teaches any budding Orson Welles another lesson: don't let your film get rewritten so many times that it ends up as a confusing and overcooked flop. Which is exactly, unfortunately, how The 51st State has turned out.
Director Ronny Yu (Bride of Chucky) is obviously a big fan of John Woo and clearly thinks that no film should have more than five minutes without a ludicrous and often slow-motion set-piece.Tarantino-inspiration is also evident with the consistent 'amusing' conversations many of the characters have, but it all feels jaded and old hat. And even though his film is for those 18 and above, the relentless, and I mean relentless, dance soundtrack is evidently aimed at a younger MTV audience.
In its attempt to bring Hollywood to Merseyside, the film is not quite a total disaster. Liverpool, for the most part, looks, well, it looks like any other city to be perfectly honest. There are plenty of familiar British TV faces trying their hardest in what they obviously think will be one of the year's must-see comedies. In the midst of this rag tail bunch arrives Samuel L. Jackson, a master chemist disbarred by his profession, who has apparently discovered the strongest and best drug known to man - hence the title. For some reason Jackson wears a kilt the whole time, and is never seen without his golf clubs. Characterisation, undoubtedly.
To cut a very long story mercifully short, Jackson is both on the run after a failed attempt to murder his arch enemy The Lizard (one of the year's hammiest performances by Meat Loaf) and in Liverpool to sell his drug formula to unlikely drug lord Ricky Tomlinson. Oh, and Jackson has an extra reason to worry as The Lizard has sent his Number One hitwoman Dakota (Emily Mortimer) who - get this - is none other than the ex-girlfriend of Jackson's Liverpudlian aide Robert Carlyle. This is one of the many glaring plot coincidences and holes in a script which becomes increasingly unlikely and over-the top as each scene arrives.
What's more, there is an uneasy sense of moral irresponsibility on behalf of everyone involved in this production. At one point, Jackson tries to test his drug on a spaced out crowd of clubbers and the sight of him spraying the assembled masses with little blue pills is not one which rests easy. Of course, he is given a get out clause at the end of the film in what is meant to be a twist, but the idea of promoting drug creator as super cool guy is not one which can be easily digested. Nonsense of the highest order, a film which tries too hard but only succeeds in quickly becoming very trying.
Director Ronny Yu (Bride of Chucky) is obviously a big fan of John Woo and clearly thinks that no film should have more than five minutes without a ludicrous and often slow-motion set-piece.Tarantino-inspiration is also evident with the consistent 'amusing' conversations many of the characters have, but it all feels jaded and old hat. And even though his film is for those 18 and above, the relentless, and I mean relentless, dance soundtrack is evidently aimed at a younger MTV audience.
In its attempt to bring Hollywood to Merseyside, the film is not quite a total disaster. Liverpool, for the most part, looks, well, it looks like any other city to be perfectly honest. There are plenty of familiar British TV faces trying their hardest in what they obviously think will be one of the year's must-see comedies. In the midst of this rag tail bunch arrives Samuel L. Jackson, a master chemist disbarred by his profession, who has apparently discovered the strongest and best drug known to man - hence the title. For some reason Jackson wears a kilt the whole time, and is never seen without his golf clubs. Characterisation, undoubtedly.
To cut a very long story mercifully short, Jackson is both on the run after a failed attempt to murder his arch enemy The Lizard (one of the year's hammiest performances by Meat Loaf) and in Liverpool to sell his drug formula to unlikely drug lord Ricky Tomlinson. Oh, and Jackson has an extra reason to worry as The Lizard has sent his Number One hitwoman Dakota (Emily Mortimer) who - get this - is none other than the ex-girlfriend of Jackson's Liverpudlian aide Robert Carlyle. This is one of the many glaring plot coincidences and holes in a script which becomes increasingly unlikely and over-the top as each scene arrives.
What's more, there is an uneasy sense of moral irresponsibility on behalf of everyone involved in this production. At one point, Jackson tries to test his drug on a spaced out crowd of clubbers and the sight of him spraying the assembled masses with little blue pills is not one which rests easy. Of course, he is given a get out clause at the end of the film in what is meant to be a twist, but the idea of promoting drug creator as super cool guy is not one which can be easily digested. Nonsense of the highest order, a film which tries too hard but only succeeds in quickly becoming very trying.
