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Shared Darkness

A Communal Life in Film, Examined

Daily Archives: May 4, 2006

VIP: The Complete First Season

They
were at one point the Bill Paxton and Bill Pullman of erstwhile chesty
blonde Playmates — two separate and distinct individuals still bound
together by public confusion over exactly who was whom. A decade
removed, the fog of mistaken identity has lifted (hey, marrying a
crusty nonagenarian and throwing on a hundred-plus pounds will do that
for you), but the difference between Anna Nicole Smith and Pamela
Anderson (below, for the record) can still be measured most acutely in one hyphenated word:
self-awareness. The latter has it in spades, as the DVD release of VIP: The Complete First Season amply demonstrates; the former, well, she might be able to spell it.

Natalie Raitano),
perpetually nonplussed Kay (Leah Lail) and the muscle, Quick (Shaun
Baker) — to guard high-strung actresses, centerfold models, talk-radio
stars, basketball prospects and more.

Tone is everything for a syndicated romp like this, and VIP
has the smarts not to take itself at all seriously. It’s also rather
ingenious in its construction, the manner in which the parties truly
need each other in order to succeed. Tasha may register continued
exasperation with Vallery — especially for her serial fashion
indulgence — but the latter’s lack of prescribed experience always
lends itself to some outside-of-the-box thinking that proves helpful.
Likewise, Quick and the others provide the practical know-how to
implement Vallery’s schemes and plans. Anderson’s off-screen
likeability is further evidenced by a wide-ranging roster of guest
stars that includes Jay Leno, Morgan Fairchild, Jerry Springer, Sherman
Hemsley, Pauly Shore, Robin Leach, Marie Osmond and magicians Penn and
Teller. While it’s definitely not re-inventing the wheel, there’s
enough campy and lightweight fun here to qualify the show for a look
for those looking to shake some of the sand from Baywatch out of their trunks.
All 22 episodes of VIP’s 1998 inaugural sashay are included
here, in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen format with an English stereo
audio mix. Spread out over five discs housed in three slimline cases in
turn stored in a single cardboard slipcase, supplemental extras include
a trivia track on the series pilot and audio commentary on the season
finale, “Val the Hard Way,” with executive producers Jonathan Lawton
and Morgan Gendel, actress Raitano and writer Steve Kirozere. There’s
also a brief behind-the-scenes featurette and a selection of cheeky,
newly filmed cast introductions to three episodes. More with Anderson
would certainly be welcome, but VIP has the smarts to leave you wanting more. B- (Show) C+ (Disc)

Flight 93

Director Paul Greengrass’ United 93, from Universal, isn’t the only film detailing the events aboard the
sole airliner that didn’t hit its intended target on Sept. 11. The A&E movie
Flight 93 (above), releasing this week to DVD, actually beat it to the screen,
though you wouldn’t necessarily know it from most media reportage.

Directed by Peter Markle, Flight 93 is in every way the lesser
“experience” of the two films — for better and for worse — yet certainly no less
respectful and possessing of a heart in the right place. It shares with its big
screen sibling a mostly unknown if occasionally recognizable cast, and it too
plies us with small pedestrian details leading up to liftoff of the titular
flight.

Whereas for some viewers United 93 is too painfully antiseptic —
giving us a raw, gritty realism but no lasting personal identification with the
actual individual passengers — Flight 93, tighter in scope, takes the
opposite approach. It introduces characters by name via their boarding passes,
and compacts the correlated events of Sept. 11 into the film’s first 15 minutes,
all in order to spend more time on the plane and have greater leeway to intercut
the action there with more passengers’ desperate, doomed calls to their loved
ones.

Flight 93 cannot sustain this emotionality for a myriad of reasons — even
though, somewhat manipulatively, everyone safe on the ground seems to be
cradling a baby. With the hijackers reduced to more of a minimalist menace, the
panic and dread feels artificially sketched; whereas United 93 ratchets
the tension and grief-soaked anxiety up to taxing levels by showcasing the
clipped, whispering fright in all parties, in Flight 93 the passengers
huddle up, football-style, and conduct a dramatic raised-hand vote to storm the
cockpit. Still, you can’t help but have your heart catch in your throat given
the devastating simplicity of a line like, “Mom, I’m on a plane that’s been
hijacked, and I’m calling to say goodbye.”

One of the interesting things for me about both films lies in just the
experience of watching either of them with an audience, of sharing in that pain
and discomfort with others — be it a hundred people or a single loved one. In a
weird way, it’s kind of beautiful, if that makes sense, because no one
choosing to view either movie doesn’t know or think on some level that they’re
going to be moved by having all those stark real-life memories and their
attendant emotions churned up again. You can’t enter into it lightly, without
care — it’s not possible.

For that reason and others, the debate of whether or not it’s “too soon” for
Sept. 11 movies is to me a pointless and silly one, the definition of media
fire-stoking. What is popular culture if not a reflection of our current mood
and zeitgeist — certainly what titillates us, but also too what frightens and
unnerves us? Hollywood is rapped all the time — and not always incorrectly — for
its vacuousness and indulgence, for making loud, garish films about nothing.
Both United 93 and, despite its more limited production means, Flight
93 are responsible films born of the real world. They may not be for
everyone, but how can that be assailed?

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