PAPARAZZI

Paparazzi is the other film Mel Gibson co-produced in 2004, you know, the one that wasn’t The Passion of the Christ. The one about the film star wish fulfillment against the intrusions of the stalkerazzi. As we can see watching this piece of major studio trash, the themes of persecution and sacrifice and even a sense of divine right of kings can be seen in both films.
Directed by Paul Abascal, make-up artist turned TV director. New action star Bo Laramie (his picture is called Adrenaline Force), is a grounded family man/ex-construction worker, (the bland Cole Hauser), who gets into trouble dealing with his newfound fame. A team of sleazy star photographers led in a bit of perfect casting by the greasy Tom Sizemore, target Laramie and his family, taking pictures of his son’s soccer game. Laramie asks him to stop, then later slugs him when he resumes taking pics of his family. The whole thing is caught on video (Gosh! It’s a set-up!) And the press is all a-flutter about the “violent” star; he is forced to see a shrink for anger management courses he doesn’t need. And next, I’m seeing the voice of Gibson here; maybe it’s just me… The shrink tells him his old values may not reflect his new life, to which he responds that he’s not going to change, that’s what got him where he is, blah blah blah. It’s fun to imagine this film as a figment of Mel Gibson’s fevered messianic complex, even if that is inevitably a gross-oversimplification, given the art-by-committee process of the film medium.
Meanwhile, the despicable Tom Sizemore digs through Laramie’s garbage and vows out loud to himself, “I’m gonna destroy your life and eat your soul…and I can’t wait to do it.” Laramie soon ends up on many embarrassing and slanderous tabloid covers.
Next, in a none-too-subtle nod to Princess Diana’s death, the paparazzi surround Laramie and his family while driving in their car, flashing camera bulbs on all sides of his ride, and forcing an accident, which costs his wife her spleen and puts his son into a coma. They take photos of the unconscious bodies in the car immediately after the crash. Laramie is justifiably pissed, and the filmmakers have made the photogs into despicable shits, so that we will have no problem identifying with the hero, who is about to step over the line and do some morally objectionable acts of revenge. This time it’s personal! No, that line is not said anywhere in the film, yet it strangely kept cropping up in my head while watching it.
In one of those synchronicities that only seem to happen in the movies, one of the paparazzi stalkers has a motorcycle accident and is hanging over a cliff, where our hero comes to save him. For some reason, he makes the foolish choice of telling Laramie something that betrays the fact that he was involved in the accident, and Laramie lets go of his hand, leaving the douche bag to a lengthy fall to his death. This seems to inspire Laramie, and he embraces his dark side to go after the rest of the gang in ways I won’t go into any further.
Dennis Farina is dependable as always in the role of the not-so-dumb cop. As a paparazzi, Daniel Baldwin looks like he hasn’t had a bath since his days on Homicide. The rest of the cast is unmemorable, with the exception of cameos by Mel Gibson (waiting in the psychiatrist’s office), Chris Rock (pizza guy), Vince Vaughn (actor playing cop with cheesy ‘stache), and Matthew McConnaughey (himself).
This is not a movie to think about too much. There are plenty of plot holes and things that just don’t make sense, but hey, it’s just trash. Even if it does have name actors and is a slick, competently made major studio product, it’s still trash. In fact, that’s what I find attractive about it. It’s a self-cannibalizing concept, that the industry that is tortured by the paparazzi is turning the tables for one brief moment of actor’s revenge fantasies. And I appreciate the irony of the film industry making money off the fame vultures in the same fashion the paparazzi “scumbags” are exploiting them. So how is the film? Well, it’s slick and forgettable, no great shakes, not very freaky, but blackmailing, roofie-rapist Sizemore is entertaining and the film is at least fast moving. So fast, in fact, that it doesn’t leave much time to dwell on the film’s inconsistencies, it just barrels right through to the next cliché. But it’s missing sex, and that renders it ultimately a little bland. And my wife says that it’s a film not made for repeated consumption. Too true... but I still dream of an imaginary version of this film made by Scorcese in the seventies with Lee Marvin as the bad guy and Harvey Keitel as the actor.

-Hysteric Eric