Kounterfeit

Since I write an arts/culture column for a bi-monthly periodical, I write very few reviews for this site. The point is that I only write about things that elicit a strong personal reaction in me. Unfortunately, this film elicited a very negative personal reaction.

An exceptionally bad script, low production value, haphazard direction, and subpar acting makes for a perfect storm. Hillary Swank was the only reason I rented this. She is actually not bad but I feel sorry for her, trying valiantly to carry this entire film on her shoulders. But it is fruitless in this obviously released direct-to-video "movie" . It feels like a really bad 80s flick so imagine my surprise to discover it was actually made in the mid- to late-90s.

All of the characters were unrealistic, one-dimensional, and weakly developed. This was John Asher's debut as a director when his previous most memorable experience was playing Gary, the Anthony Michael Hall character, on the "Weird Science" TV series. He should not have strayed from in front of the camera. This is the type of effort that probably stalled any future prospects. I wish someone would put warning labels on movies like this so that you do not waste your money or more importantly--your time. So, consider this that warning.

Hilary Swank's name on the box caught my attention at Blockbuster, and she is the main reason to view this one. It is a routine low-budget crime movie with various bad guys and cops chasing suitcases of real and counterfeit money, with Hilary as the wild card. And, gee, do you think one of the cops might be dirty? The screenplay is neither good nor bad, the characters are almost credible, and the sex/language/violence are mild for the genre. Hilary gets a lot more screen time than her billing suggests, and, yes, she can play a woman as well as a boy. She won't be ashamed of this one when she's famous.

I am not sure exactly what constitutes a spoiler on this site, whether it is giving away key plot points, describing scenes in precise detail or giving away the ending but I really don't care at this point either. I have always known I had a unique destiny, that someday the people of Earth would need me, and if I can save even one soul from experiencing the pain of this pointless cinematic purgatory I will bear my blacklisted fate with stoic dignity and count my time on this planet as having been worthwhile.

This movie strings along bad clichés like so many Christmas lights employed in an excessive display of holiday cheer. The only one it may have missed was a saxophone solo. After a lead in, the credits and a conversation which serves no other purpose than to provide clumsy exposition and insultingly unsubtle set up is gun play which could have only been choreographed by special needs children with very little concern with their appointed task. The firefight takes place in what looks to be a twenty foot by ten room which is drawn out long enough to ensure you cannot miss how little sense it makes even as it is being depicted. Follow the trajectory of the guns you can see, note the proximity the bodies lie in, count the eleventy billion shots you hear traded between the men even after they have died. . .and if after having gazed deep within this abyss, this aborted mass, of poor writing, bad acting and worse directing, you can find the strength to continue watching this ill conceived excuse for cinema, ask yourself this question:

Why