Review: Speed Kills

Loosely based on the true story of Don Aronow, John Travolta plays renamed speedboat racing magnate (and former racer) Ben Aronoff, whose business practices and associates aren’t exactly above board. Basically, he’s a drug trafficker. All fun and games for a while, the whole thing ends up getting Aronoff in big trouble from both drug lords and the DEA. Katheryn Winnick and Jennifer Esposito play the women in Aronoff’s life, Michael Weston plays Aronoff’s right-hand man, Jordi Molla plays a rival dealer, James Remar is famed gangster Meyer Lansky, with Kellan Lutz as Lansky’s petulant dickhead nephew who tries to give Aronoff shit at every opportunity. Tom Sizemore appears briefly as a hitman and Matthew Modine plays a character so poorly integrated that I only know he played then-VP George H.W. Bush because I read it afterwards.

John Travolta seemed to have horrendous luck with mob-related biopics in 2018 with the much-maligned “Gotti” and this Jodi Scurfield (who suspiciously has no other IMDb credits, allegedly it’s a pseudonym for disgruntled co-writer John Luessenhop) fictionalised biopic that might just be one of the least convincing biopics of all-time. I didn’t buy a single frame of this dreadfully edited (it feels more like an MTV montage than a film narrative), poorly scripted, and mostly poorly acted disaster. Travolta was one of seemingly a thousand producers here, but who in the fuck would want to be involved in this mess? “Pulp Fiction” (much as I’m not a fan of it) and “Get Shorty” seem like a lifetime ago. It’s not the biggest of the problems on show here, but Travolta’s fake eyebrows and hair look absolutely absurd and pretty much symbolise the biggest problem with the film: It’s cheap-looking and entirely phony. The opening/closing scene with a shifty and unhealthy-looking Tom Sizemore is appallingly acted by both Sizemore and Travolta. It’s one of the worst usages of the ‘start with the end’ tactic I’ve seen in my almost 40 years of life. When we finally come back around to it at the end, it still feels like it belongs in another film, a Tommy Wiseau (“The Room”) remake of “Casino” perhaps.

Travolta is truly dreadful here, and doesn’t appear to be playing the same human being from scene to scene. Nothing gels, including his painted-on hair and fucking ludicrous eyebrows. In addition to seemingly not having an authentic hair on him, his performance is completely (and surprisingly) half-arsed, particularly with the terrible narration. It’s one of the least convincing performances he’s ever given. The film is no “Stayin’ Alive” or “Battlefield Earth”, but it’s a lot closer than you’d like. Travolta’s the biggest offender among the actors, but believe me…no one comes out of this one terribly clean except perhaps Michael Weston as the numbers guy. Jennifer Esposito has done good work elsewhere, but chooses scripts and roles for herself about as successfully as Travolta. It’s not a good day at the office here for her. Jordi Molla comes closer than anyone else in the film than Weston to seeming halfway legit here, but like Esposito, he’s got a pretty shocking barometer so far as choosing quality projects goes. I’ve never been a Kellan Lutz fan in the slightest, but he gives an idiotic performance and is poorly miscast anyway. He seems to be acting in his own awful hybrid of “Boogie Nights” and “Scarface”. A lot of people love “Vikings”, but I find Katheryn Winnick to be an amateurish actress. She’s even worse than usual here, coming off like she just read the script the first time five minutes before shooting. I like James Remar a lot as an actor, but his Meyer Lansky doesn’t begin to convince as scripted by David Aaron Cohen (“Friday Night Lights”) and the aforementioned John Luessenhop (director/co-writer of the clichéd caper “Takers”). I don’t know whether it’s a screenwriting or directing issue per se, but there are scenes throughout the film that don’t begin to make a lick of sense within themselves, let alone as a piece of the fabric of the entire film. Also, the film feels at least 30 minutes shorter than a story like this ought to be afforded to be properly fleshed out. I shudder at the thought of having to sit through an extra 30 minutes of this embarrassment, but it definitely feels underdone.

There’s gotta be a story behind the making of this film, probably something resembling “Ed Wood”. It’s a disaster and all over the shop. Narratively, performances, tone, etc…nothing holds together. The true-crime story of a boat racing magnate turned crook would seem to be perfect to put to the screen. Unfortunately, it’s made by a bunch of people who seemingly have no clue what the fuck they’re doing or what they were aiming for, including several people who should’ve known better. For starters, the poorly chosen title sounds like a film about fast cars, not boat racing and illegal drugs. Travolta never comes close to conveying a convincing or consistent character in the lead. Embarrassing for all concerned. What in the actual fuck?

Rating: D