THE ART OF WAR
Rated R - Running Time: 1:57 - Released 8/25/00
Before The Art Of War, I had never seen anything directed
by Christian Duguay. And I must say I hope I never do again. Duguay's
style is one of those all too common in Hollowwood, combining
gun play (and in this case, Kung Fu fist- and foot-play) with
fast editing to make it look slick and hopefully cover up the
lack of intelligence in the script and characters.
The film's hopelessly convoluted and anti-Chinese story, penned
by Wayne Beach (Murder at 1600) and Simon Barry, involves
a proposed trade agreement between China and the U.S., which is
supported by Secretary General Douglas Thomas (Donald Sutherland),
but is under attack by a faction of Chinese people who believe
that it will allow for the continued exploitation of the underpaid
workers. At a huge dinner celebrating the impending passage of
the agreement, the Chinese Ambassador is gunned down, and U.N.
agent Neil Shaw (Wesley Snipes) is hired by Eleanor Hooks (Anne
Archer), Thomas's right-hand lady, to find out who the killer
is. But as he trails the supposed bad guys through numerous additional
killings, followed closely by FBI agent Frank Capella (Maury Chaykin),
he begins to uncover an ever-increasingly intricate web of danger,
double crossings, and special effects.
This movie is too long by 45 minutes. It's racist. It's hard
to follow. It's hard to swallow. And the romantic tension that's
supposed to exist between Snipes and his female counterpart, Marie
Matiko, doesn't. Matiko plays Julia Fang, an interpreter who knows
something about the assassination and therefore becomes a target,
and she and Shaw are supposed to be one of those clichéd
movie couples who are unwillingly thrown together and develop
feelings for each other under the most adverse conditions. But
Snipes and Matiko couldn't care less about each other, so we can't
care much about them. Sutherland and Archer are completely out
of place in this film, and Archer is laughably bad in most of
her few appearances.
I notice that Snipes, who co-produced this mess, also co-produced 1998's The Big Hit, another shoot-and-kick-em-up of the same dismal ilk. Perhaps this is his kind of film. But it sure ain't mine. *½