Hostage

Robert Crais is one of the best writers around. I’ve read all his books, including the one this movie was based on, and they’re great.

Bruce Willis is one of my favorite action-movie stars. His everyman looks and his attitude are just believable, even though the stunts may not be.

This movie gets off to a great start. Even the opening credits are arresting, and the story development is first-rate. It’s all wonderfully done … until the end. (God, I’m tired of writing that sentence.) It gets a little crazy, a little drawn out, and adds silly Hollywood stuff that wasn’t in the book.

You know, I’m convinced that movie execs are convinced that audiences demand this sort of overblown climax … and I think they’re wrong. Look at the Bourne movies. Smart, fast, high-tech, ruthless … and audiences loved them.

And I’m sitting here trying to decide an adequate punishment for a director who uses slow-motion for more than, say, two shots in an action movie. How about … they are tied to a chair with their eyes propped out like Alex in A Clockwork Orange and fed caffeine intravenously while watching Andy Warhol’s 8-hour epic Empire, which consists of one continuous, static shot of the Empire State Building … in s s s s s s s l l l l l o o o o o o o w w w w w w w m m m m m m o o o o o o t t t t t t t i i i i i i o o o o o n n n n n n n n.

Make it last about a week. When they get out of the mental hospital point out to them that slomo, while it has its uses, is the refuge of the incompetent … and that Andy Warhol made another 8-hour film, called Sleep.