‘The Mexican’

Amazingly, this film fails to capitalize on the potential sizzle of the first pairing of impending Oscar-winner Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt. This is one of the worst films of the new year.   [R]

By: Kam Williams

Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts share the screen in The Mexican.

   Move over Sugar & Spice, there’s already a worse film in 2001. There’s something intrinsically wrong in a romantic comedy with Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts that isolates them in separate countries for almost the entire movie. What little time they do share on screen is spent bickering like an old, married couple who hate each other. Amazingly, this film fails to capitalize on the potential sizzle of the first pairing of impending Oscar-winner Roberts and Pitt, once-nominated for Twelve Monkeys.
   The Mexican is the second feature film by Gore Verbinski, a noted TV commercial director and winner of four Clio Awards for his eye-catching Nike, Budweiser, Coca-Cola and 7-Up ads. Verbinski’s touch may have worked in the Budweiser frog spots, but it fails to generate anything approaching movie magic between two of today’s biggest box-office draws.
   In fact, The Mexican‘s most passionate moments are shared by James Gandolfini and an actor named Michael Cerveris. Take my word for it, Gandolfini, better known as Tony Soprano of the HBO series The Sopranos, looks a little crazy as Leroy, a homosexual hit man who falls hard for Frank, played by Cerveris, the proverbial stranger across a crowded room. Lucky for Leroy, the lanky drifter who ignites his testosterone loves him right back. Unfortunately, complications can quickly ensue if you take a life mate when you’re already married to the Mob.
   The Mexican is a vehicle driven in separate directions by Pitt and Roberts. The story line, a bastardization of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, centers around a legendary antique revolver. Jerry, played by Pitt, is a low-level thug who wants to sever his ties to the Mafia. He gets an offer he can’t refuse, namely, retrieve the priceless pistol from Mexico, or else.
   Ugly breaks out when Samantha, played by Roberts, his live-in love, learns that he has agreed to pull one last job for the mob. The unhappily shacked-up couple squabbles and heads separate ways, he south of the border, she for Las Vegas. At this juncture, the film splits in two.
   Jerry’s sojourn takes him to the fragile historical ruins of Real de Catorce, nestled in the highlands. Once there, the scriptwriters resurrect every insulting Mexican stereotype you can imagine, replete with sombreros, siestas and bad teeth. For instance, here’s how Jerry mockingly requests help from some peasants with a pick-up: "I need a ride-o in truck-o to next town-o." Jerry’s plight goes from bad to worse as the result of a series of stupefying mishaps. He loses his rental car, his cash, the gun, and ends up in jail.
   Meanwhile, back in the desert, cold-blooded killers are competing to kidnap Sam. The ransom demand? The same gun her ex-boyfriend is simultaneously chasing down. Sam ends up the hostage of the aforementioned Leroy, the ruthless gay blade. Obviously, events eventually dovetail to bring both our protagonists together. However, the dialogue and plot are too poorly crafted for any further comment on this tedious bore. If this had been an in-flight movie, I’d have asked the stewardess for a parachute.
Rated R for profanity, gratuitous gore and gay sex.