he second of this summer's two Earth-meets-large-object movies starts out where the first one, Deep Impact, leaves off: with the near-destruction of the Earth. In this case, it's the dinosaur-killer asteroid that left its Jurassic mark on the planet, as narrated by a solemn Charlton Heston.
A quick jump to the present, and even before the credits are through, the audience witnesses the destruction of an orbiting space shuttle, the declaration of Defcon 3 and a Texas-sized asteroid on an 18-day doomsday trajectory toward Earth.
To reinforce the point, the audience is treated to a spectacular shower of Volkswagen-sized hail that wipes out much of Manhattan, decapitates the Chrysler building (again?) and pulverizes Grand Central Station--more intense destruction to more landmarks in fewer minutes than in all of Godzilla.
And this is even before the main story, which involves a madcap band of roughneck oil-drillers led by wildman Harry S. Stamper (Willis), kicks in. The audience knows Stamper is a wildman, of course, because he's first seen chasing his prospective son-in-law A.J. (Affleck) around an offshore oil rig with a shotgun for having slept with his daughter, Grace (Tyler).
But NASA, led by sober executive director Dan Truman (Thornton), needs the expertise of Stamper and his crew, who are to become overnight astronauts, board two space shuttles-in-waiting, fly to the asteroid, punch a couple of holes into it, plant nuclear weapons in the holes, and blow it up. If not, expect "basically the worst parts of the Bible," Truman says.
Though apparently ill-equipped for the mission, Stamper and his wild bunch--including venal genius Rockhound (Steve Buscemi) and stalwart partner Chick (Will Patton)--rise to the occasion, overcoming conflicts with NASA shuttle crews and mishaps aboard a decrepit Russian space station.
But as they approach the global-killer asteroid, now only days from Earth, disaster strikes. The military threatens to intervene, and conflicts boil over, with the future of humanity at stake. Mayhem ensues. Sacrifices are made. Heroes are born.
"This is deep blue hero stuff."
Armageddon starts big and fast and gets bigger and faster. Producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Bay, whose previous collaborations include The Rock, have aimed squarely at the adrenal glands of audiences in constructing a thrill-ride that makes ample use of state-of-the-art special effects.
At this, they are arguably masters. The camera never stops moving, swooping and swirling around the action. There's lots of yelling and screaming, stuff blows up with regularity, cities fall, and spaceships spin out of control. One action sequence is topped by the next, and the sound is deafening.
But surprisingly, Bay also aims at moviegoers' tear ducts with a story of daughters and lovers, sons and fathers, heroes and villains. Unlike Deep Impact's director, Mimi Leder, however, former TV ad-maker Bay goes for the gut not with thoughtful dialog but with manipulative images reminiscent of bank commercials.
No emotional button goes unpushed. There are slow-motion hero shots of astronauts, Tyler in front of an American flag, children with space-shuttle models, and rural families in white churches with welling choirs. Someone even quotes from Revelations.
Given that as many as 10 people reportedly had a hand in writing the bloated script (Jonathan Hensleigh and J.J. Abrams received the screenplay credits), it's no surprise that the jokey dialog fails to establish credible characters. And the acting? Most of it is irritatingly over the top, with the exception of Thornton, who brings a measure of dignity to his role.
A word about the science, since Bruckheimer has made a point of touting its accuracy. It is, in a word, ridiculous. Apart from the idiocy of the central premise--that two shuttle missions could be mounted in two weeks, with a crew of neophyte astronauts, to deflect a massive asteroid with a single nuclear weapon--nothing technological or scientific about the film rings true, from the mechanics of oil drilling to the fires on the asteroid's supposedly airless surface.
s a child, John Dolittle (Murphy) could talk to animals. He'd have long conversations with his pet dog (voice by Ellen DeGeneres) about what
animals think about people and why dogs greet each other the way they
do.
When John meets the new school principal and greets him the way one dog would greet another, John's father (Davis) gets concerned. Something's not right about his boy, and he arranges for a minister to get rid of whatever is making his child act so oddly. When John's dog bites the minister, the dog is sent away and John stops hearing and talking to animals.
As an adult, John has become a successful doctor. He is so successful, in fact, that he and his partners are about to become very rich from a buy-out deal. But on his way home from an emergency call, John hits a dog (voiced by Norm Macdonald) and bangs his head in the accident. The dog gets up and calls him a butthead.
From then on things aren't ever going to be quite the same for John. He goes home and his daughter's guinea pig, Rodney (voiced by Chris Rock), starts giving him a hard time. He helps out an owl (voiced by Jenna Elfman) with a stick in her wing, and she spreads the word. Not only can he talk to animals, animals can talk back to him.
Suddenly his house is full of sick animals and John is feeling something he hasn't felt for a long time--like he's making a difference. However, John's family and partners are worried. Not only is he going to blow the big buy-out deal, but is he going to be much of a father when he's in a mental hospital?
Cotton candy for the kids
Dr. Dolittle is a funny but mild little comedy that kids should enjoy and parents won't mind. It has a sweet little message at its heart, and while there are some crude jokes, there's nothing terribly offensive here. Murphy plays it fairly straight and lets the animals have most of the good lines.
As directed by Thomas and written by Mauldin and Levin, Dr. Dolittle is as light as cotton candy. Supposedly based on the children's novel by Hugh Lofting, the film passes the comedy test because it's funny. Parents may find it a good option because there is no violence in the film, and Murphy has developed a nice father/daughter relationship with his tiny human co-star, Kyla Pratt. However, Dr. Dolittle doesn't stick to the ribs, and like cotton candy it's forgettable moments after consumed (unlike Murphy's funnier and more memorable The Nutty Professor).
The original Dr. Dolittle movie (1967 with Rex Harrison) unarguably had a magical element to it. However, a lot of years have passed, and today talking animals are nothing unique on film, even if they have funny lines. Nevertheless, the talking critters in this version of Dolittle-- a mixture of real animals and special effects--are terrific. When John Dolittle is talking to the animals, they appear quite convincingly to be talking back. Today, special effects on film are taken for granted, so it's nice to see some very subtle but very special effects.
Murphy and his human and voice co-stars are all solid. Murphy should be given a lot of credit for having the guts to play it straight against many of today's most talented comics (Macdonald, Rock, DeGeneres, Albert Brooks and Gary Shandling, to name a few). However, it is disappointing to have that much talent up on the screen and not make more use of it.
