Citymars

Take two ordinary men who have no previous film credits for acting, directing, or writing, put them in charge of all three tasks, and the result is likely to be as shapeless and self-indulgent as "Straightman." This low-budget movie is a real disappointment -- so much so that I begin to suspect the glowing reviews were written by friends of the cast. It's a shame, too, because there is potential here for a good indie movie. It begins with a good premise, the working-class Chicago backdrop is interesting, and there is a sense that the film might be semi-autobiographical.

This film's main problem is that the director, who also co-stars, apparently has no distance from the material. An objective eye would have edited the tiresome and repetitious improvisation. As it is, the two men talk on and on and on. Scenes are too long, and footage that should have been cut is treated as sacrosanct. The drama goes from feeling fresh to feeling forced as each of the lead actors has to pile on dramatic moments. While the actors do not stink, they are not noticeably talented, either; so they cannot sustain the drama, and ultimately their time on screen feels undeserved.

Not recommended.

Rock-bottom rotten. A promising premise (reminiscent of stories in "Under the Fang") and a somewhat creative opening few minutes -- tracking a vampire apocalypse from the point-of-view of TV news clips -- are red herrings in this presumably straight-to-video release.

Wherever the dividing line is between "low-budget" and "indie", this movie is well on the losing side. The acting is entirely amateur and ranges from the sub-par (for example, the goth youth collaborators) to the merely dull (alcoholic hero Father Joe) to the whopping ludicrous (Marvin Schwartz as a Catholic priest-turned-vampire). The direction as such is incomprehensible. A dreadful, rambling script is partially credited to horror author F. Paul Wilson, who also briefly appears.

Don't be misled by the colorful video box! This trash is impossible to watch in its entirety, and not worth the wear on your DVD player.

Another sequel in a long history of film sequels (e.g., Beverly Hills Cop 2, Legally Blonde 2) that borrow the main ingredients but miss whatever elusive quality made the original enjoyable in the first place. "Shanghai Noon" was unexpectedly charming fluff, but this follow-up weighs a ton. Even the leading actors seem to feel it. Did the three-year interim between films really age them? Jackie Chan is less spry than ever before, and Owen Wilson's anachronistic delivery lacks the sparkle that made it funny the first time around. A seriously misguided effort was made to enliven the proceedings with a silly and obvious music score. One can only hope that whoever was responsible for the music has been punished along with the writers and director.