Cosecha del crimen

Good suspense and writing anchor this otherwise routine thriller about a writer who lives out the urban legend of waking up without a kidney while investigating a series of murders in Mexico. He soon finds himself running for his life. (and his other kidney!) Average at best, you might like it. Miguel Ferrer gives a good performance.

** 1/2 out of ****

I saw this on cable, and it impressed me. Hollywood makes tons of boring thrillers, full of gunplay and mindless brutality. What I liked about this movie is that the hero goes through unusual trials to find the people that did him wrong: he doesn't just shoot and interrogate bad guys.

An author goes to Mexico for inspiration. He get seduced, get drugged, and wakes up minus one kidney. He is too obsessed with the woman who wronged him to drop the matter and fly home, however. To find her, he tangles with corrupt cops, endures his weakened state (he has just lost a kidney, after all), faces off with Mexican gangsters, and hikes through the jungle wasted on psychedelic drugs.

Not a bad film as far as these things go. There is also a hot love scene in a moving Volkswagen beetle, but I don't want to spoil that part for you.

three things stand out for me regarding _the harvest_.

first, the tagline is ridiculous. this IMDB page shows a different phrase, but here's what's on the case: "They stole one of his kidneys... and told him he would survive with only one... Now, they want that one too." oh my.

secondly, george clooney as a mexican transvestite is a fairly tight arrangement. great imagery.

third is the excellent soundtrack, on the now defunct world domination records. led by dave allen (gang of four) and rick boston (low pop suicide), it also has a few tracks from their labelmates. the result is stylistically broad. the theme song, "one by one", is a duet between rick and belinda carlisle. great musicianship and ambience throughout.

Charlie Pope is carrying a very valuable commodity. Is it drugs? Guns? No, it's his kidney. I kid you not! Pope (Miguel Ferrer) is a struggling movie screenwriter who travels to Mexico to use a murder case as the basis for his newest story (why doesn't he just re-write an old classic like everyone else?). His boss back in L.A. is played by Harvey Fierstein, who's out of place here as a foul-mouthed tyrant. Pope meets a gorgeous blonde and, naturally, this coupling can only spell trouble for our hero. He's knocked unconscious. The next thing he knows, he's short one kidney. Black market kidneys are apparently big business in Mexico (actually, the reason for the operation is explained at the end of the movie). Pope spends the rest of the film trying to find out who nicked his organ. Later on, he finds out they plan to take his other kidney. How's this for a promo slogan: They took his kidney...this time it's personal! He also makes out with the aforementioned young lady. The love scenes are typical of this genre, featuring overheated foreplay that leads to lacklustre slo-mo sex. During one scene, Pope fondles his partner while driving a VW Beetle. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road as she stands up through the sunroof and raises her dress. You want to yell at them, "for God's sake, stop the car and get it over with." All in all, "The Harvest" is reasonably well done. The pace never lags, and Ferrer does a good job in the lead role. It's not exactly "The Fugitive", but you could do a lot worse in the action/adventure field.

In this excellent unabashed B movie from 1993 you get to watch Miguel Ferrier and his wife turn one of the most enduring urban legends ever (guy wakes up in a bathtub of ice missing -insert body part- with instructions to call an ambulance) into a South of the Border escape covering topics from the Hollywood screen writing culture to Latin American police corruption to long term depression to child molestation to the underground gay community back to the Hollywood screen writing culture. What it lacks in production values (not much) it makes up for in heart.

This type of film was often showed on the off-brand pay movie channels in the early to mid 90s but usually centered more around the exposure of many, many nude body parts belonging to Shannon Tweed, Joan Severence or C. Thomas Howell (::shudder::). This film keeps its clothes on (and puts a dress on George Clooney, to boot) and delivers an enjoyable watching experience of pure escapist fantasy throughout which you will consistently thank God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around on the ground in pain) or curse God you aren't Miguel's character (when he is rolling around in the front seat of a Volkswagon with his insanely beautiful real life wife).

Good stuff.