According to a Warner Brothers spokesperson, “Advertising is too expensive. At Warners, we’re pioneering a new concept in movie marketing called ‘mental telepathy.’ The marketing department stands in a circle, holds hands, closes our eyes, and visualizes moviegoers choosing an unknown Al Pacino cop drama over Attack of the Clones and Spider-Man. Hey, it worked for Serpico!”
At the box office, Insomnia not only goes head-to-head with clones and spiders, it also faces a full frontal assault from Jennifer Lopez. Feeling the heat, Insomnia star Al Pacino has announced he will hereafter be known as “Al to tha L.O.” Look for Al on TRL with Ja Rule performing “Hoo-hah, Down Ass Chick”:
“Al to tha L.O., Bowl fulla Jello. Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” raps Al, “That’s the anthem get’cha damn hands up!”
Insomnia is from director Christopher Nolan, writer/director of the stylish backwards thriller Memento. Compared to the Norwegian film it’s based on, this one contains much less sensible Ikea furniture and fewer character names with colliding vowels. Remaking arty European films, now there’s a recipe for box office brou-ha-ha!
Pacino can’t sleep. He’s in Alaska where it stays light for months at a time, and it stays really close to the middle of nowhere for eternity. What a mess Al is! A face like an unmade bed on a remanufactured mattress – tree bark with knotholes for eyes; teeth like old windchimes punctuated with bits of cannoli.
Insomnia, indeed. If ever there was a guy who needed his beauty sleep, it’s Al to tha L.O. Over the years, Al’s scratchy voice has been smoked by so much menthol, you could plant his lung and grow eucalyptus.
One-time Oscar It-girl Hillary Swank is an Alaskan detective, full of enthusiasm, not to mention the biggest teeth this side of a sea lion. Thank God Arab countries can’t restrict toothpaste exports.
There’s a killer on the loose, and Pacino must use his super-duper spider-crime-sense to intuit the perpetrator. Only Al, with his keen eye for detail and keen appetite for pasta fazool notices the victim’s freshly washed hair, scrubbed skin, and clipped nails. “Either the murderer did this after killing her,” Al speculated, “or a dead woman checked into a spa with the most inattentive staff imaginable.”
“But what kind of employee wouldn’t notice if a customer was dead or alive?” asked Hilary.
“Obviously you’ve never shopped at Z Gallerie,” replied Al to tha L.O.
“Hey,” added Al, “what about those superficial contusions?”
“Are you pointing at the dead girl’s bruises or my breasts?” replied Hilary.
It’s no secret that Robin Williams is the deranged killer, unless by “secret” you mean any detail at all about a movie the Warners marketing department considers their own private viewing property.
Robin Williams, a killer? Are you serious, Robin? Do your victims heckle you? Don’t let that supporting actor Oscar go to your head, boy. You’re Mork! Patch Adams! Mrs. Doubtfire! Bicentennial Flubber Man! A guy who grows warm fuzzies like your Dudley Do-right chin grows whiskers! Villains aren’t named “Robin” for Chrissake! If you’re in Alaska, Robin, it’s not for murder, it’s for an Eskimo pie in the face.
There are some big-ass obnoxious clues leading detective “Al to tha L.O.” to his prey. For example, if you’re both a killer and a published author, definitely don’t personalize signed copies of your books for your victims and leave them strewn around that victim’s bedroom: “Dear victim: When you’re dead this’ll be worth something…er…I mean, when I’M dead. All my psychotic love, Robin.”
Robin and Al have this weirdly symbiotic relationship. They taunt each other, chase each other, chat on the phone, meet for ferry rides, discuss life-strategies, paint each other’s nails, talk about boys. It’s like felony dating.
Insomnia is a cat-and-mouse game where the inter-species lines get very fuzzy. It’s also a really good movie – but don’t tell anybody.
It’s Warner Brothers’ little secret.
Photos Copyright ©2002 Warner Brothers