FULL DISCLOSURE: The original version of this movie is one of my all-time favorites. It’s suspenseful, it’s funny, it’s beautifully shot and chock full of New York character actors that beautifully capture New York City in the 70’s (everything from a supervisor who complains about a female co-worker’s ring falling into “the terlit” to an almost human-shaped Jerry Stiller to Hector “Oh, is Garry Marshall making another family movie? I guess I’ve got another gig!” Elizondo as a lecherous racist hijacker to Robert Shaw, whom I often refer to as the evil John Cazale, though I’ve forgotten why).

I wore out my VHS copy just over a year and I’ve given my replacement DVD more than a few spins, as well (though I certainly appreciate the thought, Scotty — what a very pleasant surprise!).

However. Despite my affection for the original, I actually went into this movie hoping to like it. Seriously. From what I had heard about the production, test screenings, etc., I feared it would be awful, but if I’m by myself (and I’m not in my living room — incidentally, if you’re in the MOVIE THEATER with me, neither are you, jagmo) then I don’t want to watch a shitty movie. I have loads of time to do that at night while my wife drifts off to sleep watching her Northern Exposure DVDs (I think Sarah Palin ruined Alaskan comedies for me, so I watch shitty movies with my headphones on). And even though John Travolta makes me sad for a number of legitimate reasons, I’d heard good things about both the movie in general and his performance in particular. So my expectations were low, but my mind was open.

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The trailer for Public Enemies reminded me of the old Movie Math game we’d play to amuse ourselves.

(The Untouchables + Heat) x O Brother, Where Art Thou? = Public Enemies

Of course, I never did see it because America didn’t want to watch Batman chase Captain Jack in the Dust Bowl. Heck, they didn’t even want to see Batman chase rowbits enough to make that the #1 movie! Rowbits!In the future! Or from the future! And Helena Bonham Carter for some reason! Boy, I can’t wait for Parts 2 and 3 of this trilogy!

I should also note that when I sat down (in the tiny room this was showing in), there was one person in the back of the theater and me. After the commercials ‘n sitch had started, a couple of teenagers sat in front of me (I was on the end of the 3rd row) and almost immediately began making out. Thankfully they slouched down to do it (and they were a couple of seats in) so I couldn’t see anything beyond an occasional elbow and (I wish I was kidding) the back of the female’s head when she sat up to answer her phone. But the noises. Oh, the disturbing noises! Many an awkward “ow, sorry” and “wait” floated in the air, dancing with the sounds of a fat 35-year-old eating his wheelbarrow of popcorn before being overpowered by the movie’s remarkably terrible score (the original’s was superb in its hulking simplicity and supreme funkiness; here they’re replaced by annoying train noises and whatever sound a jump cut makes).

The couple would leave about an hour into the movie (I envied both their youth and taste), which made me realize how much I missed being occasionally distracted from this limp noodle of a movie.

But as they left, one of them dropped a small CD that, on my way out I picked up and listened to at home. Here’s an excerpt (two men are talking, Streisand plays softly in the background):

“Howzabout we remake The Taking of Pelham One Two Three?”

(strong nasal inhalation)

“OK. The book, the movie or the TV movie?”

(strong nasal inhalation)

“None.”

“Hmmm….. yes… we own the title, so we could just make a whole new movie from scratch…”

(strong nasal inhalation)

“Well, we’d borrow liberally from all three but this way we could add or subtract whatever we wanted.”

“OK… OK… People always expect remakes to be less complicated, more streamlined… let’s shatter those expectations! Let’s complicate the fuck out of it!”

(two strong nasal inhalations)

“Oh! Yeah! Yeah! I see where you’re going…” (strong nasal inhalation) “…How about the hero is also a thief and a liar! Why does the hero always have to be so, like, you know…”

(two strong simultaneous nasal inhalations)

“Right! An anti-hero! Terrific!”

“…And the hijackers aren’t even after the money!”

“What?”

“Yeah… they hijack the train so that the stock market crashes and their gold would be worth more!”

“Right! Because gold isn’t worth very much nowadays, right?”

(strong nasal inhalation)

“What?”

“Right?”

“What?”

“And fuck that ending.”

(strong nasal inhalation)

“The sniffles?”

“Yeah… that’s dated. We need shootouts. Lots of shootouts.”

Then that track ended and the rest of the disc was Avril Lavigne.

But the conversation, assuming it was authentic, answered many of the questions I had while audiencing.

Right off the bat, Tony Scott (who I think may have never actually travelled in the NYC subway system… or in NYC… or Earth) tries to combine shots of the hijackers boarding the titular train (which is a relatively empty 6 train) with the camerawork of a hyperactive teenager. Because I have a keen eye and was fighting the urge to see what could possibly be making that sound in front of me, I noticed that the train goes uptown, then downtown, then uptown, then sideways… I became a member of the Premiere Magazine Gaffe Squad while in high school. I’m just doing my job, ma’am. Weak continuity makes me sad.

Anyhoodles, one of the passengers is using his computer to video chat with his girlfriend (again, which New York City is this taking place in? Earth-2’s?). Shit’s gonna go down… but thanks to the modern-day setting, the passengers have a connection to the outside world. Granted, it’s a connection that shouldn’t exist and is wholly unnecessary for the purpose of the film, but whatevs.

When we meet Denzel, we learn that he was a big muckety-muck at the MTA but he’s suspected of taking a bribe, so they’ve demoted him… to being in charge of the subway system. I know that someone read this script and thought, “Why would they give such a job to someone they’re treating like a pariah and expect to be firing soon?” and I wish that person had said something to someone of authority.

Matthau was tired, world-weary and snippy, but clever. Denzel just sort of is. He’s a charismatic actor and I’ve always liked him (I even sat through all of The Great Debaters despite his haircut in that film), but there was really nothing especially interesting about his character (it was all told, not shown — his current probation winds up playing a major part in his dealings with Mr. Travolta, another wholly unnecessary addition that distracts the audience from the stunning lack of emotional dimensions). And Travolta… oh, boy. I love Robert Shaw. The Sting, Jaws, Black Sunday… he’s always wonderful whatever he’s in, but his Mr. Blue was perfection. Steely, authoritative perfection. Travolta replaces Shaw’s icy calm with 327 uses of the word “motherfucker.” 308 of them are said at the top of his lungs.

The dialogue that wasn’t gratuitous cursing wasn’t any better. Yelly McScientologist chats up the motorman:

“Where you from?”

“Brooklyn.”

“You Irish?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so.”

Riveting.

And, like most of the summer’s fare, you can’t have a terrible blockbuster unless a wonderful actor is slumming in it. This is one of John Turturro’s many many such films. This year. And James Gandolfini does a subtle impression of Mike Bloomberg, adding a dash of Ed Koch and 4,000 metric tons of Tony Soprano.

Other discrepancies between the old and the new:

* LOTS of people get killed by the hijackers in 123.

* The Martin Balsam character from One Two Three (sniffly Mr. Green) has no analogue in 123. If anyone in the audience is rooting for any of these hijackers, they are either hijackers or the parents of the actors in the film.

* Thanks to America’s dwindling attention span, a countdown clock occasionally appears onscreen in 123. This reminds me of the story I heard from a lady who teaches at what is considered by many to be the #1 private school in New York state. One of her students (of double-digit age) was unable to read a non-digital clock. In 2009. Which, I fear, is why Tony Scott didn’t just cut to the clock on the wall. Or the watch on Denzel’s wrist.

* We get to see some of the passengers urinate in 123. And one of them is a little boy!

* One Two Three was about people hijacking a train for ransom. 123 is about a guy who invested $2,000,000 in gold before going to prison ten years ago (back then gold was worth about $300/ounce, today it’s closer to $1,000/ounce), who decides that the roughly $7,000,000 he would now have isn’t enough, so he figures that a hijacking will crash the stock market and make gold really valuable(r).

* Did I mention Shaw’s icy calm? Yeah. Johnny T likes to yell “He can lick my bunghole, motherfucker!” He is so… gay.

* In the 70’s, that walkie-talkie was the only connection Matthau and Shaw had. In 123, the aforementioned laptop that works in the tunnels of Manhattan for some reason gets discovered by the news outlets. Travolta sets up a modem or some such so that he can monitor the stock market online. He chooses MSNBC, which is good for the passengers, because that’s the only network that doesn’t have the hijacking as their major breaking story. For some reason.

* B’also? If Travolta’s doo-hickey allows for internet access, how is it possible that no one’s phone rings for the HOURS that they’ve all gone missing?

But the biggest difference is the way it ends. It isn’t the shrewd but lethargic detective work of Stiller and Matthau (and a bad cold) that saves the day — it’s a shootout on a bridge. And I wish I had timed it, but there is a sniper in a helicopter, a dozen heavily armed cops with rifles charging at Denzel and John, Denzel has a gun pointed at John and… for the next three or four minutes, that’s what’s going on. Literally.

Should the film have been made? I’ve stopped caring. You win, Hollywood. DiCaprio is producing a new Twilight Zone movie? Great. Send me a miniature flag with the logo and I’ll wave it. But if you’re going to remake classics, which you will be doing until Apocalypto!, could you not suck all of the fun and suspense out of them and replace them with Hollywood’s shittiest parents (did you see what Denzel did to his daughter at the MTV Reality Television Awards this year? I think I saw pee trickling down her legs.)?

On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being the lowest, 10 being the highest), I gave this movie far more time than it deserved.

C-

Next up, The Proposal, Transformers 2, Bruno and Harry Potter (I may have missed Ice Age 3 and that may have been my intention).