What's worse: the film or Pacino?

Rating: 2/10 (5 December 2004)

Having seen this over 20 years ago on cable, I recently decided to see if the ensuing decades could make me appreciate this, and the answer is "NO". I thought then, and think now, that the film overall and its lead performer were and are over-hyped to the point of hysteria. I even call into deep question Pacino's standing as one of America's "great" actors; for all those who love "The Godfather" series (I'm not one of them: I think they, too, were equally overdone), I suggest taking a gander at such "classics" as "Author! Author!" (ever wonder why he doesn't do more comedy? A quick glance at THIS will tell you why). In the hands of the unreliable De Palma - for every "Carrie", you get "The Fury" - a man who, despite his blatant desire and attempts to be Hitchcock reborn, is at heart a lover of the overblown cinematic image, Pacino is allowed to give his tiresome ticks and actor's tricks full display in a part that SHOULD have been played with subtlety. If the film is watchable - and it basically is NOT - it is due to the scenery-chewing; Pacino hardly starts with nibbling; no, instead he swallows each shot whole, inspiring his fellow actors to go overboard along with him. For each laugh one has at the actors' expense, however, one needn't be Cuban to be even slightly offended: SURELY the makers of this film could have found more than ONE honest-to-goodness Cuban (co-star Steven Bauer being it). The accents, particularly Pacino and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, are akin to those in the old "Speedy Gonzalez" cartoons - you almost expect poor old Juan Valdez to be trotted out, too, just for good measure. But how about the story-telling, the technical aspects? Well...once you get past the hammy performances - quite a struggle, believe me (you'll be tempted to bring out the cloves and pineapple) - and the assuredly overcooked direction, you are left with something that rambles on for nearly 3 hours, though with little reason beyond wanting to become a modern-day "epic saga" a la "The Godfather". As for the LOOK of the film, it's not an especially attractive one: the print on cable - no, I haven't seen the DVD and don't care to - STILL looks downright muddy at points, as if copied from an old slow-speed video tape, though this could be as much to do with pan-and-scan as anything else. The much-lauded score by Giorgio Moroder is, THERE: not memorable, as with "Midnight Express", but not a total failure and it DOES fit the cool, shiny-plastic beauty of Miami and its denizens as shown in this film (everyone seems to be dipped in either oil - the "natural look" apparently never made it down in Florida - or sweat, for Pacino never seems to stop perspiring, which is understandable, what with the effort it must have taken to overact AND speak with some marble-mouthed, faux-Latin accent). No matter, though, what the film looks like, or how it's written (poorly; example: Michelle Pfeiffer, sporting one of her other noses, just disappears towards the end), or how long it goes on (and on, and ON, AND ON...), people watch this for the acting, the violence, and the love of the "f" word (uttered 182 times), and they have dubbed this and "The Godfather" as "classics", all of which goes to show that if you say it long enough, some people believe it.