I usually don't rent movies from the video store that I haven't heard of before, except from another video store. Chances are I'll end up watching something that deserved the straight-to-video fate it received. Every once in a while I need to be reminded why. "Safe House" is that reminder.
The house that Patrick Stewart's character lives in is a real beauty. If I had that kind of money, I'd be happy to live there -- Mace Sowell wouldn't even have to take any of the decor or furniture with him. I mean, aside from the fact that it has more weaponry than the United States Marine Corps and Ghengis Khan's army put together, Sowell is really living it up. If there's one line of truth in the screenplay, it's when Kimberly Williams compliments him on his great taste.
Plot holes are too great in number to count, and it's a waste of energy to resent a ludicrous twist ending when the whole movie has been pulling the rug out from under you up until then. What I did resent was the really awful acting job by Stewart. I know he's a good actor; he did "A Christmas Carol" on stage, and played all the characters. He gives the "Star Trek" films, like the TV series they are based on, a solid foundation. He gave an outstanding supporting performance in "Conspiracy Theory." Here he just isn't suited for the role. I wasn't able to accept him as an Alzheimer's sufferer, or even an infirm old man. He's about as believable as Denzel Washington would be as a movie villain -- who's going to buy that?
Minus Stewart, I would have liked to have seen a movie about a man suffering from Alzheimer's disease, and his dealings with his beautiful young caretaker (though you might skip the romance angle). That part of the story thankfully manages to avoid the "Driving Miss Daisy" cliches, if not the "Charly" cliches. Even better, I wouldn't mind a movie about an ex-DIA operative shacking himself up in a SoCal mansion with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of high-tech security equipment and heavy artillery, and his constant "drills." But both? I don't think so. By the end of "Safe House" I was tired of the characters, tired of being jerked around, tired of the laughable dialogue, and tired of the pool cleaner's movie star impersonations. But I was not tired of looking around that house.
The house that Patrick Stewart's character lives in is a real beauty. If I had that kind of money, I'd be happy to live there -- Mace Sowell wouldn't even have to take any of the decor or furniture with him. I mean, aside from the fact that it has more weaponry than the United States Marine Corps and Ghengis Khan's army put together, Sowell is really living it up. If there's one line of truth in the screenplay, it's when Kimberly Williams compliments him on his great taste.
Plot holes are too great in number to count, and it's a waste of energy to resent a ludicrous twist ending when the whole movie has been pulling the rug out from under you up until then. What I did resent was the really awful acting job by Stewart. I know he's a good actor; he did "A Christmas Carol" on stage, and played all the characters. He gives the "Star Trek" films, like the TV series they are based on, a solid foundation. He gave an outstanding supporting performance in "Conspiracy Theory." Here he just isn't suited for the role. I wasn't able to accept him as an Alzheimer's sufferer, or even an infirm old man. He's about as believable as Denzel Washington would be as a movie villain -- who's going to buy that?
Minus Stewart, I would have liked to have seen a movie about a man suffering from Alzheimer's disease, and his dealings with his beautiful young caretaker (though you might skip the romance angle). That part of the story thankfully manages to avoid the "Driving Miss Daisy" cliches, if not the "Charly" cliches. Even better, I wouldn't mind a movie about an ex-DIA operative shacking himself up in a SoCal mansion with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of high-tech security equipment and heavy artillery, and his constant "drills." But both? I don't think so. By the end of "Safe House" I was tired of the characters, tired of being jerked around, tired of the laughable dialogue, and tired of the pool cleaner's movie star impersonations. But I was not tired of looking around that house.