The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 301 Days to go: 290
Movie #72: Con Air
Con Air was actually the first movie I saw with my previous husband — we bonded over “Sweet Home Alabama.” Some people might call those two items “clues,” but we’ve already established I was completely fucking stupid at 22. It all worked out in the end, anyway, though, because we have a great son together, my ex is a good dad, and even though he’s not my favorite person, I wish him mostly well. And, to be clear, I neither bought nor kept Con Air out of some sort of sentimental attachment to that first viewing.
I’ve held onto Con Air all these years because, frankly (obviously), I hold on to all my movies. Sometimes I look up on my shelf and don’t see one I know I used to own, but I have no idea how it got lost, since it’s really rare for me to part with them under any circumstances. (I suspect it might be one of those breath-stealing gremlin-trolls from Cat’s Eye. Those things were creepy as hell.) As to how I wound up buying Con Air in the first place, I don’t know. I suspect it has a lot to do with John Cusack and Steve Buscemi.
1997 was a bit of a resurgence year for John Cusack, and a much-appreciated one at that. He managed to transition in that time from his former cute, crushworthy teen/twenty-something roles into full-fledged adulthood. And something like Con Air is not anything one would’ve expected to see him in — brandishing weapons, being a smart yet kickass U.S. Marshall, going on honest-to-god action movie car chases against criminals. It’s a fun diversion from a lot of the more hyper-intellectual things he usually does. And it winks at maybe his goofy sense of humor, because I find it hard to believe anyone took this movie seriously, except maybe Nicolas Cage.
Steve Buscemi, on the other hand, has always done offbeat stuff, and his portrayal of Garland Greene in Con Air is definitely that. It’s this ridiculous parody of Hannibal Lecter, with the crazy restraints and the face mask and the eerie, intelligent calm. He didn’t eat a census taker’s liver, but he wore some woman’s head as a hat. He makes biting observations about those around him. He doesn’t kill the little girl (which, the entire scene with the little girl is easily my favorite of the film), despite the early implication that he might. And he manages to slip away into the casinos of Vegas without a trace, a lucky shooter indeed.
The rest of the movie is absolutely absurd. I mean, right from the start. What veteran in Alabama is going to get jail time for defending himself against a drunk maniac with a knife and his two friends? I feel like even the worst lawyer in the state would manage to get Cameron Poe (Cage) off for that. Secondly, the DEA agent they sneak onto the plane is supposed to gain a criminal’s trust and manage to get some sort of taped confession in the span of a single flight? It seems like they really could’ve come up with a better plan than that. Poe’s friendship with Baby-O (Mykelti Williamson), meanwhile, is based in Sno-Balls (not a euphemism), but he risks his life for it with the worst plans ever, one after another. Good thing, then, he’s able to divert attention from his clear convict-subverting motives with some cheeky quips directed at black militant Diamond Dog (Ving Rhames). And while I appreciate that the lady guard wasn’t brutally raped by Danny Trejo’s Johnny-23 (clearly, they didn’t want the movie to get too dark, as that tends to undercut the jokes), it’s pretty funny that murderous psychopath Cyrus the Virus (John Malkovich) is morally opposed to it to the extent that he is. Honestly, there’s just nothing in the movie that holds up to any sort of rational examination, so it’s best if you just laugh at it and leave it there. I recommend the part where Cameron SuperPoe charges the cockpit while getting jumped and shot at — he barely flinches and doesn’t alter course at all — and the one when Cyrus takes a giant wooden stake through the ankle, pulls it out, and doesn’t even limp while continuing to fight Poe on the top of a fire engine — despite shattered bones and almost certainly bleeding out, it takes crashing through a raised walkway and landing on live power lines to kill him.
I suppose I would be remiss not to also mention the very funny Dave Chappelle as Pinball, but honestly everything he does in this movie grosses me right the hell out. Or maybe it’s just the whole gross mouth thing he does, but that one thing is disgusting enough to dampen my appreciation for him. Sue me.
At the end of the day, of course, Cameron Poe has, in fact, “saved the fucking day,” as promised, but it’s still pretty ridiculous. The only thing I can’t decide, though, is if Cage knows it’s preposterous and likes to play camp, or if he considers himself a serious action star and sees his character as an honest-to-god hero. It’s a mystery of our times.
Viable Option 