Quote:Namely, the discount bin at your local Wal-Mart superstore.continued below
I'll begin my review of Sahara with the box it came in. A great movie should come in a great box, and Sahara does not in any way contradict this statement. On the front cover, we see our three heroes, arms crossed, hair blowing dramatically in the wind, arrayed in the classic "get a load of us" pose first popularized in Journey's groundbreaking 1983 video, "Separate Ways." Meanwhile, down near the lower right-hand corner, what appears to be an enormous penis protrudes from the desert floor, with an army of gun-toting horsemen thundering towards it. Although the giant sandstone penis scene apparently had to be trimmed from the final cut of the film, this is still a striking image, hinting at the even greater excitement that awaits us upon...
...the back cover, which informs us: "There is a legend of a treasure that claims all who seek it."
Well, no, actually, there isn't. Or maybe there is such a legend, but if so, it's not in this movie. There's a treasure, all right, but it's been lost, buried and completely forgotten, and no one but Matthew McConaughey seems to be seeking it anyway. Then again, you have to put something on the back of your box, I suppose, and that movie about the legend does sound pretty cool. (If anyone knows what it's called, please let me know.)
"Thumbs up!" exclaims a veritable chorus of movie critic, in large letters above this headline. The singular thumb in question, as you may have already surmised, belongs to Roger Ebert, applying his patented "If the filmmakers set out to make crap, and they made crap, then they must have done a good job" theory of movie reviewing to uncover yet another diamond in the rough. (But technically speaking, shouldn't the box say "Thumb up"?)
And now, at last, it's time for our adventure to begin--and begin it does, with a scene of a Civil War battleship attempting to sail out of its harbor at night while being attacked by Union troops (unseen, but armed with hundreds of CGI bottle rockets, which we'll be seeing plenty of). Explosions ensue. More explosions ensue. Then there are some explosions. This goes on for a while longer. Just when things are starting to look rough for the ship (due to the explosions), the captain suddenly orders his crew to cut the engines. For a moment, it looks as if he might have some clever strategy in mind, but after the engines are shut off, everyone just kind of stands there for a minute or two, glancing around at each other, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, while the ship drifts slowly over toward the right edge of the screen. Then the opening credits begin abruptly, launching us forward to the present day, and hey, so much for that. But I'm confident that the captain's idea, whatever it was, was a great one. (Not to give away too much too soon, but his idea may well have been, "Hey, let's all sail to Africa for no apparent reason, and then die of a mysterious plague!" Take that, Union soldiers!)
During the opening credits, the camera swoops around a room lined with photos, postcards and dozens of newspaper clippings, which introduce us to one Dirk Pitt, a daring undersea explorer and Civil-War battleship enthusiast who, from the look of things, is also heavily into scrapbooking. While we're admiring his vast collection of memorabilia concerning himself, the names of the film's cast and crew fly past us, vanishing behind pieces of furniture, scooting around cabinet doors, and whizzing through the handles of coffee cups, all set to the sort of music that's supposed to make you instantly think "Fun!" and yet isn't actually any fun to listen to. Imagine the kind of opening credits sequence that David Fincher might come up with if he were Brett Ratner, and you'll have a reasonably good mental picture of this. By the time the credits ended, I was already convinced that I was going to dislike the director, the characters, and just about everything else in the movie. Nor did any of them disappoint me.
There are other good omens to be found in the credits: We see that the star of our adventure is also one of its executive producers, so we can count on seeing him shirtless and/or wearing a wetsuit a lot. The screenplay is credited to four different writers, which is always a good sign. And the film is directed by Breck Eisner, son of Disney CEO Michael Eisner, who somehow overcame the limitations of his difficult upbringing and managed to find work in the movie industry. The dream lives on!
Now we've reached the end of the credits. My, that was fun! Go back and listen to the music again if you don't believe me! Or, better yet, let us set sail...for adventure! (Which has a new destination!)