by Tim Anderson

Cocktail, clever gadgets, beautiful woman, meglomaniacal bad guys, fast cars, exotic locations, gambling and the most cheesy of pick up lines and kill lines around. If you don´t know what I am talking about yet, get your head back in the sand. Male escapists’ paradise, James Bond. What else could an action fan want?

Apparently something else.

Ever since Jason Bourne arrived as the latest big screen action spy, there have been predictions of the demise of the Bond franchise, 45 years of iconic images been finally expelled in a new era of action film heroes. Bourne was faster, smarter, darker and represents a return to the troubled gritty action hero, rather than the smooth, it-all-comes-too-easily high-flying world of Pierce Brosnan’s MI6 agent.

But then re-invented Bond came back,imperfect and impervious, with muscles for action and a dislike for pleasure, troubled by his conscience, a cold hearted killer making good mileage on his Licence to Kill. Although being touted as potentially the worst choice for a Bond ever, Daniel Craig made Casino Royale a huge success.Bond had become just an ordinary spy again, sorting out the extraordinary world around him.

And if Casino Royale re-introduced James Bond to the world again, Quantum of Solace looks likely to cement him as the hardest spy on the block (although whoever came up with that title ought to be killed off in a brutal opening credits scene).

Bourne will have his turn for stealing back his mantle but he’ll be against it. Let’s face it , he’s always running away anyway, so maybe they should send 007 to get him, a sort of spy- off. Here’s the plot…

James Bond is hunting rogue agent Jason Bourne, who after losing his memory somewhere in transit, starts planning the downfall of the world from his secret mountain hideout in Morocco. But this time it´s personal for Bond, because Bourne stole his latin goddess,  Lotti Luvin, from under his nose while he was at the bar collecting martini´s. So Bond is on a mission. Though Haiti, Madagasca and Berlin via India he tracks down the elusive Bourne. First he takes out the cheating girl by tripping her up while she´s carrying the Pina Colada´s to the pool, skewering herself with the cocktail sticks in her eyes leaving her with 2 pineapples for eyeballs. “You don’t want to pin-a- colada to your face darling!” He laughs sarcastically.  Then Bourne is on the run again.

Cue numerous chase scenes in Aston Martins, a fight with gondola paddles and an escape from an aligator pit by running on their long noses (wait, that was done somewhere already..).

Bond will have to win though. He’d been around the longest, has the better female company and the baddest enemies to fight. Oh, and the best introduction line…. “The name’s Bond……”

By Ryan Craggs 

Going into a press screening of an Al Pacino film, I had only seen the trailer and a brief synopsis on IMDB. That said, I expected an intense character study out of the film’s star—this is Al Pacino, after all.

The story goes something like this: Pacino portrays Dr. Jack Gramm, a forensic psychologist living in Seattle. Nearly ten years prior, Gramm’s testimony played a crucial role in finding Jon Forster (Neal McDonough) guilty in a string of serial murders. A lack of physical evidence made Gramm’s testimony all that much more important. The crux of the film take place today, the day of Forster’s execution.

Gramm receives a phone call telling him he has 88 minutes to live, hence the title. The majority of the film finds Gramm running around, trying to find out who made the call and how that person plans to kill him. In the meantime, Forster seeks a stay of execution, claiming innocence.

The premise alone makes the film a thriller, but at the same time it’s one of its shortcomings. It’s gimmicky, having only 88 minutes to solve this mystery, and at times it seems that Gramm isn’t as focused as one would be with under an hour and a half to live. The cast itself is well rounded, with a few familiar faces, but somehow every woman in Gramm’s life is beautiful. At times, the dialogue is stiff and sounds contrived, especially when Kim (Alicia Witt) talks to Gramm. It’s also curious why Special Agent Frank Parks, played by William Forsythe, disappears throughout most of the film. It would make more sense for an FBI agent to help with some of the legwork.

Pacino portrays a bombastic, egotistical character, a part he pulls off with ease; larger-than-life characters are his specialty. The problem is that we know this is a man approaching 70 in real life, and seeing him run around to take on the world is a little tough to swallow. Action films shouldn’t be his forte at this point. A scene where Gramm clamors around a parking garage attempting to stop cars driven by a murderer doesn’t make much sense. Why would a murderer stop to talk?

Though 88 Minutes isn’t Pacino’s finest hour (or hour and twenty eight minutes, to be precise), the film should leave most guessing who the murderer is throughout. That alone may make the film worth seeing for many—just don’t go in expecting anything more.