“This city can be hard. When I was young, I asked my priest how you could get to heaven and still protect yourself from all the evil in the world. He told me what God said to His children. ‘You are sheep among wolves. Be wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves.’”
In a world of page-to-screen adaptions gone oh so wrong, Gone Baby Gone is proof of the good that can come from sticking close to the source material. With little deviation beyond the dictates of its own two hour running time, the film brings Dennis Lehane’s powerhouse novel to life with intelligence and grit to spare.
If you share my lack of appreciation for Jim Caviezel, awkward romantic subplots, or Velveeta, you may enjoy my latest review for MovieByte: Outlander.
The movie opens with the crash-landing of Kainan (Jim Caviezel), an alien warrior who finds himself stranded on the shores of Norway during the Iron Age. Crap. To make things worse, he manages to get himself captured by a band of seriously annoyed Norwegians. Double crap.
The proverbial cherry on top of all this crap comes with the realization that Moorwen — a man-chomping quadruped who looks like the misbegotten brainchild of H.R. Giger and James Cameron — hitched a ride on Kainan’s ship and is now refusing to get along with the locals.
On the night of June 25th, 2005, a four-man Navy SEAL team – consisting of Lieutenant Michael Murphy, Sonar Technician 2nd Class Matthew “Axe” Axelson, Gunner’s Mate 2nd Class Danny Dietz, and Corpsman 1st Class Marcus Luttrell – is lowered via fast-rope into the Hindu Kush Mountains near the Afghanistan-Pakistan border. Their mission: track and eliminate notorious Taliban leader Ahmad Shah.
What if one night out of every year, the authorities declared all criminal activity completely legal? What would you do? Steal the car you’ve always wanted but never could afford? Plot the death of your boss because he’s such a royal pain to work with?
In a futuristic America beleaguered by crime and overcrowded prisons, the government has sanctioned just such a night — an annual 12-hour period in which any person may commit any crime (including murder) without fear of retribution. Hospitals are shut down. Rule of law is suspended. This night of nights, you are allowed — nay, encouraged — to do literally anything you want.
Or not. Maybe you’d rather avoid the blood-soaked pandemonium outside. If so, feel free not to participate. It isn’t mandatory. Just bolt your doors and lock your windows… and hope to God you haven’t made any enemies in the past 364 days. Continue —>
"But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think." – Lord Byron