London Falling
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
Beginning with its title character, the new film “London” is bursting with sexy – if inexplicable – accessories.
The film seems focus-grouped for optimum sexiness: Jessica Biel stars as London, a beautiful young New Yorker about to move to California. We never really learn much about her, but the sexiness of naming a film after a city (but really a girl) seems enough of an explanation for the filmmakers. Gritty New York movies are compelling to watch, so why not add gratuitous drug use? And since Americans love accents and the early movies of Guy Ritchie, why not throw in Jason Statham and a bunch of sexy British accents?
Ms. Biel (or her body double) is often half naked as she sashays through different New York apartments that are far too opulent for the young 20-somethings that occupy them. If viewers aren’t into her, there are numerous other Maxim-ready chicks to ogle, draping themselves on the posh scenery.
For the girls, there’s an angst-ridden hottie (Chris Evans) who’s desperate to win London’s heart. And to provide an illusion of depth, there’s Mr. Statham – best known for his roles as the heavy in “The Transporter” and the heavy in “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels” – who plays an English banker, cokehead, and, you guessed it, a secret heavy.
All these Anglophile assets don’t add up to much. The action relies on Syd (Mr. Evans) locking himself and his friend and fellow Englishman Bateman (Mr. Statham) in the stylish bathroom at London’s going-away party so they can put as much cocaine in their faces as two hours will allow. While there, they discuss existential dilemmas like the existence of God and penile dysfunction. They are joined in this endeavor by various women who endure their endless patter in exchange for free drugs.
The audience gets no such relief. No amount of beautiful scenery (mobile and otherwise) can distract from the inanity of Syd and Bateman’s endless chatter. There may be a few good one-liners in their dialogue, but it mostly consists of the ramblings of wasted men that normal party- and moviegoers would go out of their way to avoid.
When Syd finally gets up the courage to speak to London, it becomes clear that the audience is supposed to like him – and root for him to get the girl. I was hoping he would get beat up and thrown out on the street, but I guess we can’t all have a happy ending.
