 |
|
|
Entertainment & Area Guide  |
|||||||
|
Top Areas
St. Petersburg Times Online Tampabay.com Calendar Classifieds Movie Times Restaurant Guide Weather
Interactive
Calendar
Other features  Around Town Quick glance Attractions Beaches Golf Government Education Libraries Maps Museums Parks Spectator Sports Ybor Times
|
Film hits the right 'Frequency'
By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic © St. Petersburg Times, published April 28, 2000
Preview trailers make Frequency appear primed to be a time-waster. A dead father and his now-adult son speak to each other across 30 years using an antique ham radio. Touchy, feely, Field of Dreams stuff. Alterations in the past cause problems in the present, according to nebulous laws of movie science. Mom is placed in harm's way thanks to another reliable cliche, the serial killer. If you aren't groaning at the preview's conclusion, you probably subscribe to Starlog magazine. It doesn't take long for director Gregory Hoblit and especially screenwriter Toby Emmerich to convert a cynical viewer. From the outset, Frequency is a smart thriller that keeps getting smarter until it seems ready to outfox itself. Then the filmmakers take the only logical step in time-twisting, digging into blarney so deep that any mistakes won't be traced until another viewing. Frequency is entertaining enough to make that second look worthwhile. Emmerich's cagey script was apparently built backward from its fantastic conclusion. So many so-called film puzzles do the opposite. By knowing exactly where the plot is heading, Emmerich is less arbitrary about how to get there. Characterizations fan out. Supernatural events and pale humor are reasoned later to stop heads shaking in disbelief. Frequency is a breakneck ball of confusion by Emmerich, older brother of co-star Noah Emmerich. The key is Hoblit's deft control of this flow chart material, aided by his experience with eccentric TV mosaics like Hill Street Blues and L.A. Law. Hoblit is one of Hollywood's better junk dealers, evidenced by the credibly lurid coincidences of this film, Fallen and Primal Fear. Dennis Quaid plays Frank Sullivan, a Brooklyn fireman in love with his wife and son and the Amazin' Mets of 1969. Thirty years later, Frank's son, John (Jim Caviezel), is a Brooklyn detective still mourning Frank's heroic death during a rescue. John's personal life hasn't been easy since then, and a recently discovered skeleton is a professional headache. John discovers Frank's ham radio stashed in a closet and switches it on, while Northern Lights dance in the sky and a sun spot rages. Father and son are mystically reunited over the airwaves, becoming reacquainted in a series of nicely attuned scenes between Quaid and Caviezel. John takes things too far by warning Frank of his fiery fate the next day unless a different escape route is used. Frank does cheat death, opening another opportunity for the Grim Reaper. Suddenly, all traces of John's mother, Julia (Elizabeth Mitchell), disappear in 1999. That skeleton could be her remains, the victim of a nurse slayer in 1969. Using his radio bridge to the past, John must save his mother and solve a 30-year-old series of murders. Emmerich improves standard police procedure with the time-tripping element. Leg work and evidence discovery is formulaic, yet enhanced by that extra step of deduction that Frank, an inexperienced sleuth, must convey. Quaid makes Frank brave and uncertain, as he should be. Caviezel starts off a bit frantic but settles into an appealingly flawed hero. The screenplay also fleshes out main characters and gives handy traits to supporting roles for satisfying call-backs later. A single word -- "Yahoo" -- becomes a clever running gag for Noah Emmerich, playing John's lifelong buddy. The Mets backdrop becomes vital to John convincing Frank that this isn't a hoax, and Andre Braugher's cross-generational relationship with the Sullivans adds timely emotional perspective. Hoblit smoothly segues between heady action sequences like Frank's fire crises and pensive moments of grief. Frequency has a little something for everybody, and maybe too much going on. When the story should dovetail into a neat climax, Hoblit and Emmerich keep reaching for one more time-merge, or payoff for the villain, or shred of comic relief, or lump-in-your-throat moment. Details are dizzying, and the feeling nags that something in this hodgepodge of movie genres is amiss. Hoblit's sleight-of-hand with logic is impressive, always finding something to distract the audience from seeing what's behind his back. Frequency is a neat illusion, always one step away from exposure and indifference. Seeing it again might spoil the trick. Frequency
© St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved.
|
||||||
