The premise of Man on a Ledge seems incredibly silly at first. There are a few nuggets of information you can glean from the trailer that prove my statement:
- There is a man on a ledge.
- Said man on ledge wants to prove his innocence.
- Man is no longer on said ledge.
Seriously. Watch the trailer. I can’t really think of any other word other than “silly” to describe it. Asinine, maybe, but I feel like calling this movie asinine is an insult to the thesaurus. Anyhow: all the cliches are there. The female detective shouting This is my negotiation! to What if he is really innocent? All those things that make the Crime Thriller genre gel are there, and there’s no denying that this could turn out to be a cookie-cutter crime movie. It has promise to be an entertaining way to spend a rainy Tuesday night.
But should you take that leap?
Nick Cassidy, played by Sam Worthington, is a man on a mission (and eventually, on a ledge). He escapes prison, and rather than wait out his sentence like a normal person, he wants to prove to the world that he didn’t commit the alleged crime that put him behind bars, and that he was set up by antagonist David Englander (Ed Harris).
Man on a Ledge follows the same formula that many crime flicks prescribe to, such as Inside Man. Set plot, throw red herrings at buildings, distract audience, plot twist, fin. In fact, I was thinking of other bank heist movies, and Inside Man is the closest facsimile, minus the fact that Inside Man is actually worth owning.
Was this film fun: yes, as a matter of fact, it was. But the trailer reveals every revelation that the characters uncover, so watching the movie is a backwards affair. There are its moments, but overall, it’s a lackluster affair that’s a great time-killer, but shouldn’t take up space on your Blu-ray shelf.
Spoilers after the jump! (see what I did there?)
Twitter is an amazing thing. People from all walks of life can connect with people from all other walks of life that they have no pertinent connection with. Just the other day, Ken Rosenthal replied to a tweet I sent to him. It was just internet banter, a quick passing between two people distantly linked in the same industry. There was still a connection, however. Through the medium of Twitter, someone who has a thousand times more followers than me–and is a thousand times more influential–connected with me on a level. It’s a small, short, stumpy level, but it’s still a level. The internet is an astonishing tool.
Facebook, however, is creeping towards a dangerous societal chasm.
I’m a little late to this party, but this is something I’ve wanted to tackle for a while. Although the baseball offseason has kept me busy, I still have other thoughts. I’m not one dimensional! Thinking about it, a one-dimensional person would be flat, and I am not flat. I am a person. A person is a three-dimensional being. Although I am flat when I’m in front of a mic. Oh, me.
The song “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO, a group whose name I didn’t think was real until this song became as big as it is now, is essentially a run-of-the-mill 2011 pop song that was influenced by every possible genre of trance and Hip hop until its release. Problem is, somehow it’s amassed more than 300 million views on Youtube, surpassed over 4 million downloads on iTunes, and sat atop the Billboard charts at number one for over six weeks.
I don’t advocate the use of the “Billboard’s Top…” as a barometer for quality music. However, there has to be a reason that a song that so shamelessly rode the successful coattails of the music that preceded it is so, well, catchy. We should examine this further…
I had no prior knowledge of the Sherlock Holmes stories going into seeing either Sherlock Holmes or Sherlock 2, so I was a tabula rasa. The only thing I knew of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson is that Holmes was the master at the art of deduction, and Dr. Watson is his apprentice. Those were my preconceived notions.
Little did I know, however, that Sherlock Holmes would retell a cherished, antiquated, storied hero into an action super-person that the mass of American society could consume as quickly as a the common person shuffles their iPod.
I always worry about sequels. Think of a sequel to any of your favorite movies. They are, for the most part, a lackluster affair. Indiana Jones: The Temple of Doom. X2. The Matrix: Reloaded. Sherlock 2 faces the task of at least equaling its predecessor in terms of entertainment value.
The question is, my dear Watson, how does it fare?