In the process, he managed to produce one genuine classic, Die Hard. He also produced the Lethal Weapon films. Like fellow crapologist Irwin Allen before him, though, Silver used his formula over and over again. Even when box office receipts began to indicate a diminishing audience for this stuff, he continued to churn it out.
And as usually happens, the films got progressively lamer. Like a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy, they got worse with each succeeding generation. Recognizing this, Silver tinkered with his old formula, not always with the best results. The odd thing is that Silver never created a buddy film with two female leads. This might have worked. That movie, however, elided over a romance between the leads. It was much supposed that this was due to the fact that the male lead, Samuel L. Jackson, is black, while Davis is white.
This brings us to Fair Game. This is a film that bundles ten pounds of, uh, bad judgement calls into a five pound bag. Third, it is, even for a Silver film, tremendously stupid. The worst decision, however, was presumably driven by the need to keep the budget comparatively low.
To facilitate this, the leads are portrayed by other than established stars. This had worked for Silver in the past. Willis became an instant A-List star. Those guys had big screen charisma, though. The leads here definitely do not. Sometimes screen partnerships have it.
See what I mean? Supermodel a bad sign right there Cindy Crawford improbably plays our hot shot lawyer female lead. Meanwhile, the obligatory rogue-cop-who-makes-his-own-rules protecting her is played by OOT Baldwin.
Put them together and they generate enough heat to cause another ice age. I adopted it back when I lost the ability to separate them all out. Let me get into video boxes here again. There are people who like to get blurbed, and will therefore write intellectually and esthetically improbable quotes. To be fair to Mr. Buckle up for the movie that keeps up with them. The sun is cinematically appearing over the horizon, and the shots are given an over-saturated orange tint.
Bad flamenco music plays as we cut to a slow motion shot of pumping, running legs. Another angle shows a silhouetted Crawford from the neck down as she continues to jog in slow-mo. To make our putative distaff star more comfortable as misery loves company , we see that other and better known female actors are doomed to be embarrassed here.
She should have quit whilst she was ahead. This allows us to better ogle the sweaty Crawford in her spandex shorts and sports bra. Which street, by the way, is already packed with various pedestrian types. Kate is still jogging when we hear a silenced shot. Luckily, if somewhat improbably, the bullet is deflected by the teeny-tiny cassette player strapped to her arm. Make sure to watch this bit in slo-mo. This makes it somewhat strange that a window off to her right shatters. Next we head over to a generic movie Police Station.
Here we meet tough cop Max Kirkpatrick. Max is having a bad day. Then his ex-girlfriend Rita Salma Hayek stalks into the squad room and angrily dumps a bunch of stuff on his desk. She tells him to get his, uh, crap out of her apartment.
This scene is even less funny than it probably sounds. This is one of those films that seem to have been written by a computer. And a poorly programmed one at that. After this, we continue with the standard blueprint. So we cut to an orange jump-suited prisoner acting in a somewhat broadly suspicious manner. Sure enough, he soon grabs a gun away from an inattentive bail bondsman. The cowering Rita stands up, swearing in Spanish and making the sign of the cross. Meyerson, played by a presumably embarrassed Christopher McDonald.
Meyerson orders Max to interview Kate. As Max enters the room, we see Kate, still in her hubba-hubba sweat gear, on the phone. The film then ups the humor ante from zero to, uh, zero by having the phone ring as Max begins the interview. When she finally gets off the phone, another one rings. Because, you know, cops hate lawyers. Please, kill me know.
Still, beneath all their witty verbal jousting, there lies an unacknowledged but powerful sexual tension. Kate, of course, is a lawyer, and words are the tools with which she makes her living. Especially since Max is being played by a Baldwin. She lays the trap by noting that Florida cops have an unsavory reputation for taking bribes, then delivers her devastating oratorical riposte: Their sly verbal foreplay at an end, Kate takes her leave.
Which is kind of odd, as Max never really asked her any questions about the shooting. We next see Kate entering her office. Her professional attire includes a pre-Ally McBeal business jacket and mini-skirt combo. She greets the obvious indigents sitting in her waiting room. This array of salt-of-the-Earth clients informs us that Kate is a noble benefactor of the downtrodden.
No greedy Corporate Lawyer she! Waiting in her office is a hopefully embarrassed Dan Hedya. You know, for contrast. He leers at her legs and makes sexist remarks. Meanwhile, I noticed that Kate never sits down. Since one of the items of hidden property is a ship, the Tortuga, she threatens to haul him and his client into Maritime Court. On a divorce proceeding?!
I want the title signed over to my client in 48 hours. I should mention that the client, Juantorena, is also hiding a ski house, a condo and a private airplane. Meanwhile, the Tortuga proves to be a rusty old cargo ship. It also provides a segue. In the hold, rather than cargo, we see a dankly lit room containing a cornucopia of supposedly elaborate cutting-edge computer equipment. You know, you really have to wonder why super-villains can never afford decent lighting for their secret headquarters.
In attendance is Juantorena himself, along with Kazak, his Evil Partner or something. That this actor has a thick British accent might make him, to some, an odd choice to play the putatively Russian Kazak.
Berkoff, by the by, is due to make another appearance to our site in fairly short order. This is because he played the villain what else?
Juantorena wastes no time in spitting out some clunky expository dialog. Kazak, we learn, is an ex-KGB nogooknik. Juantorena taunts him for screwing up the hit on Kate.
For good reason, I might add. Even so, it seems improbable that he or a member of his team would take one shot and then drive off in a panic.
Juantorena walks over to a computer. This takes him all of ten seconds. Even more amazing is that Juantorena is apparently some kind of genius computer dude, yet was unable to cover up ownership of the vessel that serves as his floating headquarters.
Once they realized that Kate had learned of his ownership of this vessel, they sent their ex-KBG mercenaries to blow her away. Now she must be killed before she draws attention to the Tortuga. Apparently, the idea is that no other lawyer would have been brilliant enough to connect him with the ship yeah, like lawyers personally do that kind of research.