The MirrorARCHIVES: Jul 31-Aug 6.2003 Vol. 19 No. 7  
Mirror Film

Star burnout

>> Despite JLo and Affleck, the low-rent
Gigli is no romance


 

by JOANNE LATIMER

They don't make bad movies like this anymore. Gigli, starring Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez, is such a spectacular failure that it's almost quaint - a relic of bad form from the days when studios didn't neuter projects and scriptwriters had yet to read even the most basic of screenwriting rules.

Except that Gigli is a toxic byproduct of the modern Hollywood. It's an overly long, boring byproduct with a re-edited ending and enhanced film poster to try to win us over, if not deceive us into thinking it is a love story. Instead, it's a gangster comedy about a guy who falls for a lesbian. JLo is the lesbian in question, and she's sent by The Boss to ensure that Affleck, who plays Gigli, can handle a kidnapping job. They are forced to get along. We're forced to watch, and listen, as they discuss the benefits of the vagina over the penis. JLo and Affleck wear bad clothes and talk like barflies, until JLo pulls out the yoga mat and books on Chinese philosophy. JLo gets a visit from a psycho ex-lover, to give us a peak into her outside life, and we get to meet Affleck's blousy big mom.

The kidnap victim turns out to be mildly brain damaged and needs constant care. Our two gangster-babysitters must rise to the occasion, without becoming attached to their victim. Affleck must not get his hopes up about converting JLo, who must resist the draw of his magnificent manhood. Gigli - the film and the man - goes to mush within minutes, however, and we're left wondering how this film got past the army of script doctors who quality-approve projects for dramatic tension.

In the end, Gigli proves several things: opening monologues need to be delivered by a real actor (read: not Ben Affleck); using a character with brain damage isn't a trump card; cameos by Christopher Walken and Al Pacino cannot save a dying film; JLo dresses the same for every role (read: slutty); bad tattoos don't make smirking actors tough; and writer/director Martin Brest didn't do his lesbian research, let alone learn the basic tenets of a standard screenplay. Will someone send him a copy of Syd Field?

Gigli opens Friday, August 1

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