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An offer you can refuse
© St. Petersburg Times, published August 25, 2000
Nothing is worse in the cinema than mediocrity, when a film isn't bad enough to leave or good enough to make a viewer want to stay. The Crew simply happens in front of you, like a fender-bender on U.S. 19 and just about as interesting. The idea is promising, especially after Space Cowboys made a nice impression with its finely aged heroes. This time, it's the gangster movie getting a shot of Geritol. Richard Dreyfuss, Burt Reynolds, Dan Hedaya and Seymour Cassel play mob wiseguys sharing a retirement apartment in Miami's South Beach. They're cranky because the neighborhood is going to the pampered dogs and their fashionable owners. A sick scheme ensues: The gang steals a corpse and shoots it on their front steps to make the place seem dangerous and chase away the young turks. No matter that we've already seen apartment hunters moving in seconds after deceased tenants are moved out. Screenwriter Barry Fanaro changes his mind about anything in desperate segues to the next obvious joke. The Crew staggers through strip clubs, drug cartels, bingo parlors and torched mansions in the name of dark comedy. None of this would be more exciting or funnier without the geriatric factor. There would still be the same lame sex farces and drastic cultural stereotypes of Jews and Latinos. The Crew might dump the predictable subplot about Bobby (Dreyfuss) learning that his long-lost daughter (Carrie-Anne Moss) is now a detective. Perhaps the lead performances would show more vigor. Reynolds mumbles and smirks in a retreat to his Bandit days. Hedaya grumbles mispronunciations and seems too young for his role. Cassel looks the part, but it's underwritten. Jennifer Tilly makes sleazy look easy as an exotic dancer who blackmails the guys into killing her mother (cranky Lainie Kazan). Barry Sonnenfeld (The Addams Family, Men in Black) is co-producer, and his macabre imprint is everywhere, from grotesque close-ups to mishandled cadavers. Sonnenfeld trod this Miami mob turf in Get Shorty, but The Crew doesn't have any of that film's charisma. This movie couldn't even develop enough camaraderie with a local audience to earn a murmur for a Tampa/St. Petersburg reference. The humor is divided among impotence gags, insulting accents, broad slapstick and four -- count 'em -- four spit-take punch lines. The spit take is to modern comedy what the banjo is to prom entertainment, but that suits The Crew. Everything in this movie is a naughtier version of what we've seen on TV comedy shows. Not even Saturday Night Live; more like The Tony Orlando and Dawn Rainbow Hour. MOVIE REVIEW
 © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
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