Review: Meeting Evil

Samuel L. Jackson (nice suit and fedora hat in check) stars as an oddball drifter who seems to come out of nowhere to make life a living hell for down-on-his-luck real estate agent Luke Wilson. This poor guy’s marriage to Leslie Bibb is on the rocks, he gets fired from his job, and their own house is in foreclosure. Now he’s gotta deal with nutty Jackson, a serial killer who takes him on the express lane to hell, as a witness to his killing spree. Peyton List stars as Wilson’s hot former co-worker, and Muse Watson is a nosey police detective who thinks Wilson is doing all the killing (I guess he’s never seen “The Hitcher”).

Samuel L. Jackson used to be both a real actor and a real movie star. Unfortunately, that seems longer and longer ago with every poor career choice, and some of his films are barely getting a theatrical release in the US, let alone anywhere else (“Arena”, for instance). In this virtually unheard of 2012 film from writer-director Chris Fisher (whose “Street Kings 2: Motor City” was better than the shitty predecessor), Jackson has now resorted to working with Luke Wilson, bypassing the more talented Owen Wilson altogether. Wilson’s a never-was who isn’t above doing C-grade schlock himself. Predictably, the results are mediocre to put it charitably.

This mixture of “The Hitcher” and “Cape Fear” is subpar Stephen King-esque material, and the fact that Jackson’s performance is better than his work in “Arena” and “The Spirit” doesn’t make up the difference. He’s still slumming big-time, and the guy really needs to be careful because he’s a terrific and powerful actor when it’s his wont. He could’ve made this watchable if he took on a more seriously malevolent approach to his character, instead of camping it up. He’s not embarrassing like in “The Spirit”, just disappointing. Call QT, Mr. Jackson. Immediately (And I didn’t even like “Pulp Fiction”!). I’m sure he had fun picking out his character’s wardrobe, however. Worse still, despite Jackson seemingly murderising the fuck out of everyone, it’s rarely shown on screen. That’s unforgiveable for a non-TV movie.

Wilson’s role is a bit thankless, but as much as I don’t see him as a real estate kinda guy, but a hopeless loser? Perfect casting there. Muse Watson, meanwhile has improved a helluva lot as an actor over the years, but this ain’t “NCIS”. He’s got a Kris Kristofferson vibe to him and is pretty good in a crap role. Leslie Bibb, hot as ever, is stuck once again as the standard love interest/wife, and although it becomes a little more than that after a while, it’s still not very demanding of her. Special mention must be made of Peyton List. ‘Coz she’s smokin’ hot, that’s all.

The direction and cinematography are definite positives, but the derivative script is as much of a loser as Wilson’s character. It also strains credibility. No way on Earth would any cop talk about someone having an affair in front of that person’s children. Bibb’s response to it, however, is excellent and nearly makes her presence here worthwhile. Nearly (Apparently I’m the only one who liked Bibb’s response, every other review I’ve read has lambasted Fisher for writing it). And just what is the point of the whole film? I could never quite work it out, and unlike “The Hitcher”, this film isn’t good enough elsewhere for you to overlook its vagueness.

To be honest, even Larry Olivier and John Gielgud couldn’t liven up this tired crap, let alone Jackson and Wilson. Based on a Thomas Berger (the author of “Little Big Man”? Really?) novel, it’s pretty sorry stuff. The final twist is admittedly not something I predicted, but the denouement is otherwise woefully unconvincing and rushed.

Visually terrific, with some very attractive lighting, but you’ve seen this film a billion times before, usually a whole lot better. Oh, and although I’m not much of a car guy, that blue GTO is pretty sweet.

 

Rating: C