| Phillip Noyce’s (The
Saint) adaptation of Jeffrey Deaver’s
bestseller is a clunky effort that could have
been much better under a decent director’s
care. Denzel Washington stars as a decorated cop
that became paralyzed in the line of duty.
Bedridden, he tries to catch a serial killer
using an inexperienced female officer as his
vessel to catch the murderer in this sloppy
whodunit. Washington (The Siege)
plays Lincoln Rhyme, who is not only a successful
New York City police officer but the author of
several true-crime books as well. The film opens
with Rhyme bravely trying to rescue a trapped
citizen, only to be hit with a falling hunk of
metal that nearly cuts him in half. Four years
later, Rhyme is still technically a member of the
police force, although he can move only his head,
one shoulder and, for some reason, the index
finger of his right hand, which he uses to
operate several computers and televisions while
he is confined to his bed. He also has seizures
with increasing frequency and is terrified that a
big one could leave him like a vegetable.
Apparently he hasn’t seen himself act
lately.
Meanwhile,
the killer is a cabbie and each fare is a
potential victim. We see him pick up a ritzy
white couple at the airport. They want to go to 5th
Avenue, but instead he takes them into a desolate
neighborhood while they desperately try to escape
from the backseat. Couldn’t they call for
help? I’m thinking that the odds of picking
up New Yorkers without a cell phone are
staggering, as is the likelihood of the existence
of that perfectly straight road he sped down with
no lights, stop signs, traffic or pedestrians.
The
man’s body is discovered by Amelia Donaghy
(Angelina Jolie, Pushing Tin), a
child-model-turned-beat-cop that plans to be
transferred to the less-exciting Youth Services
Division. The evidence she finds - white powder,
a newspaper clipping, a large bolt and a page
number torn from a book – are taken to
Rhyme, where he is able to quickly determine the
exact time and place of the murderer’s next
act. Unlikely? You bet. This is explained away by
having Rhyme well-versed in the history of the
city. Right. And monkeys might fly out of my
butt.
While
confined to bed, Rhyme sends Donaghy to each
crime scene as they try to gain ground on the
killer. He instructs her in what evidence to look
for, relying on her eyes and ears as he tries to
avoid having control of the investigation
wrestled away by Captain Howard Cheney (Michael
Rooker, The Replacement Killers). At one
point, Cheney is kept at bay by Rhyme’s
live-in nurse Thelma (Queen Latifah, Living
Out Loud). Nurse Latifah is actually the
acting high-point of Collector.
Washington
is better than he has been lately, which
isn’t saying much. I hear he’s very
good in The Hurricane, which arrives in
theaters in January, but I’ll believe it
when I see it. Jolie isn’t bad in her role,
but her attractiveness is almost distracting.
Other than her, the other highlights are the
dazzling overhead shots of New York City. The
bland cast of co-stars include Ed O'Neill (Married
with Children), Luis Guzmán (OZ),
Leland Orser (Very Bad Things) and Mike
McGlone (She’s the One). I’m
sure the book was much better.
Comparisons
to Silence of the Lambs will be
inevitable, as the experienced but immobile
Washington guides the still-wet-behind-the-ears
Jolie to the murderer. Instead, Collector
seems more like See No Evil, Hear No Evil,
where a blind guy (Richard Pryor) and a deaf guy
(Gene Wilder) try to solve a murder. Collector
will likely be compared to Se7en as well,
but its staged murder scenes are not nearly as
disturbing as David Fincher’s serial-killer
benchmark. Neither of these films offered a red
herring as poorly as in Collector.
1:58
-  for strong violent
content including grisly images, and for language
|
