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2 1/2 stars
Keira Knightley gives a lapdance within the first 10 minutes of
“Domino.” Christopher Walken is referred to as having “the attention
span of a ferret on crystal meth.” There’s a naked mescaline-induced
sex scene with Knightley in the middle of the Nevada desert. Vengeful
mob bosses take cast members of “Beverly Hills: 90210” hostage.
In its parts, that’s a perfect action film. But director Tony
Scott (“Top Gun”) and writer Richard Kelly (“Donnie Darko”) have tried
to make “Domino”—a story loosely based on real-life
model-turned-bounty-hunter Domino Harvey—far too complex and the pieces
collapse under the weight.
The real Domino Harvey, whom Knightley portrays, was the
daughter of British actor Laurence Harvey (“The Manchurian Candidate”)
and a Los Angeles bounty hunter. She was recently found dead in her
bathtub at the age of 36 after an overdose of painkillers. Scott
glamorizes Domino’s life (ignoring her death except for a passing
mention in the credits, since it happened during filming) in a
pseudo-ironic and very unsuccessful way: he seems to both want to show
Domino’s delusional love of her bizarre profession and to seduce his
audience with that same seedy side of L.A.
The plot, as convoluted as it becomes after the first 40
minutes, is as such: Domino kicks butt as a bounty hunter alongside her
boss Ed (Mickey Rourke) and his angry lackey Choco (Edgar Ramirez);
their corrupt bail bondsmen employer and his entourage of “sassy black
women” create a scam to raise money for their dying baby; they
accidentally double-cross a mob boss and a corrupt businessman,
requiring an even more illogical scam; and, simultaneously, Christopher
Walken attempts to make a reality show about Domino.
Remember the “Top Gun” scene in which Val Kilmer awkwardly
air-bites Tom Cruise? Scott fills “Domino” with similarly unjustified
scenes that feel out of place and funny. And not in the funny “ha-ha”
way, but in the funny “strange, I thought the romance was between Tom
Cruise and Kelly McGillis” way.
Kelly’s penchant for absurd plot construction, which won over
college-aged cult fans in “Donnie Darko,” simply serves to
overcomplicate an already thinly stretched concept. At the unnecessary
and melodramatic sexuality between Domino and Choco (Domino was
actually bisexual), a plot twist involving Afghani liberation, and the
segment on “The Jerry Springer Show,” one can’t help but think: “What
the hell was the point of that? Go back to showing half-naked Keira
shooting Vietnamese thugs!”
And Keira, in whatever state of clothed-ness she may be,
actually is the shining element of this movie. Defying her typecast
sweetheart role of “Bend it Like Beckham” or the forthcoming “Pride and
Prejudice,” she shows her genuine ability to act and is completely
believable as a woman who can, and would love to, hurt you. Yet no one
has ever looked so hot screaming obscenities and flinging numchucks.
The film grasps for salvation in many enjoyable moments, but
never regains the momentum of the opening scenes. While Scott’s attempt
to get meta with the reality television show subplot is obnoxious,
Walken, in typical form, gives a hilarious cameo. The screenplay can be
quite strong and very funny, but beats its jokes to death—the
career-resuscitating turn from Brian Austen Green of “90210” is
constantly greeted with some permutation of: “Is that the guy from
90210? He has not aged well.”
The serpentine sting plot, grainy filming, and complex
ensemble of characters reek of Scott’s failed attempt to liken the film
to the British thrillers “Snatch” or “Layer Cake.” The green-and-yellow
tint of the film, quick camera cuts (so typical to Scott’s previous
“Enemy of the State” and “Man on Fire”), and voyeuristic shots of
Knightley function to inculcate the viewer into the sordid world of the
bounty hunter, but become hackneyed and visually exhausting.
As artfully filmed as Scott tries to make his movie, the only
thing consistently lovely about his 128 confusing minutes of gratuity
is Keira Knightley’s beautiful body.
—Staff writer Kristina M. Moore can be reached at moore2@fas.harvard.edu.
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