Romeo Must Die (2000) + Cradle 2 the Grave (2003) – Blu-ray Discs

ROMEO MUST DIE
ZERO STARS/**** Image B Sound B Extras C
starring Jet Li, Aaliyah, Isaiah Washington, Delroy Lindo
screenplay by Eric Bernt and John Jarrell
directed by Andrzej Bartkowiak

CRADLE 2 THE GRAVE
ZERO STARS/**** Image B+ Sound B+ Extras D
starring Jet Li, DMX, Anthony Anderson, Gabrielle Union
screenplay by John O'Brien and Channing Gibson
directed by Andrzej Bartkowiak


Romeomustdie

by Walter Chaw There are a lot of interesting things about Jet Li's sad run
through Hollywood, among them the fairly simple question of why, in Romeo
Must Die
, this particular yellow Romeo must die. But then he doesn't die,
and he also doesn't get to kiss the girl, who isn't white but Aaliyah
(black)–mitigating, I would have thought, the taboo against Asian men in
American cinema having any kind of sexuality that isn't ridiculous (see: Long Duk
Dong) or that involves a white lady. In his next film, Kiss of the Dragon,
Jet teams up with a white prostitute (Bridget Fonda) and, belying the sly
Orientalist promise of the title, doesn't get to kiss her, either–and
she's a fucking hooker. It's a cultural ban so stringent that there's a
specific category of porn, deeply perverse, that is not only interracial, but
specifically Asian man on white woman. Not long after 2003's Cradle 2 the
Grave
, Li played an Asian man kept on a leash who, at a word, is made to
perform martial arts for his white master's favour. Danny the Dog
(retitled Unleashed in the United States…why, again? Because of
Hollywood's sensitivity?) is probably the most poignant expression of the
plight of the Asian action hero in the United States: castrated, humiliated,
valued for the single trait of knowing kung fu–even if, as it was for Jackie
Chan in the Karate Kid reboot, Chinese "kung fu" is reconfigured
as Japanese "karate." Chris Tucker's favourite joke in the Rush
Hour
movies, after all, is to mistake the two cultures–a favour to neither
and funny, probably, only to Tucker.

RUNNING TIME
115 minutes
MPAA
R
ASPECT RATIO(S)
2.40:1 (1080p/MPEG-4)
LANGUAGES
English 5.1 DTS-HD MA
French DD 5.1
Spanish DD 5.1

SUBTITLES
English SDH
French
Spanish

REGION
All
DISC TYPE
BD-50
STUDIO
Warner

RUNNING TIME
101 minutes
MPAA
R
ASPECT RATIO(S)
2.40:1 (1080p/MPEG-4)
LANGUAGES
English 5.1 DTS-HD MA
French DD 5.1
Castilian DD 5.1
Latin DD 2.0 (Stereo)

SUBTITLES
English SDH
French
Spanish

REGION
All
DISC TYPE
BD-25
STUDIO
Warner

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At the time of its release, Romeo Must Die was largely discussed
in terms of the innovation of marrying the martial-arts genre with hip-hop
when, in truth, Blaxploitation was always involved with Asian bootleg
martial-arts flicks. I used to wonder why that was; I think it probably has
something to do with being outcast subcultures. I think it's too bad that
there's so much native antagonism between the two in reality: When you see
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar fight Bruce Lee in Game of Death, it's very much a
dream of integration. Quentin Tarantino gets that–his Kill Bill films
are, how you say, honourable? Romeo Must Die is horseshit. In it, Li's
disgraced policeman Han escapes from a Chinese prison to avenge his brother's
death in America. It seems that Han's brother was a casualty in a turf war
between his father (Henry O) and O'Day (Delroy Lindo), who are secretly in
cahoots to scare property owners into selling their…oh, who gives a good shit?
There's a moment early on where O'Day's daughter Trish (Aaliyah), called
"you Aaliyah-looking girl" by fat-not-funny Stepin Fetchit Maurice
(Anthony Anderson, typecast), asks Han if it's true that all the Hong Kong
brothers know kung fu–which is sort of self-aware. There's another moment in which it's revealed that the villains' master plan is all about sharing ownership in
an NFL expansion bid. O'Day is urged to follow through because there aren't any
African-American owners in the NFL (Reggie Fowler is a minority–pun more or less intended–partner in ownership of the Minnesota Vikings), which is also sort of
self-aware. The rest of it is undiluted garbage.

The directorial debut of cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak, coming off Lethal
Weapon 4
, as a matter of fact, Romeo Must Die favours wire-aided fu
that blunts Li's abilities while enhancing Aaliyah's. The worst scene in a film
composed entirely of bad scenes is one where Han, because he's opposed to
hitting women (even if they're assassins sent to kill him), uses Trish like a
puppet to hit a woman assassin. Wait, that's the best scene. The dialogue is
awful, the pacing totally uneven; they play bamboo flutes when Asians are on
screen and rap when black guys are on screen, making this movie directed by
some white dude an equal-opportunity offender. A kiss between Trish and Han,
shot but deleted because "urban [test] audiences" (code for
"black") didn't like it, would've been a watershed of sorts, but it
doesn't so much as rate inclusion as a deleted scene on the Blu-ray because,
ick. And a special effect that shows an animated "X-ray" of bones
breaking and hearts getting punctured and spines shattering is a direct result
of the then-fresh success of The Matrix and the belief that this shit would never date poorly when, honestly, it only dates poorly. I saw Romeo
Must Die
on opening night because I was proud that Jet Li had scored the lead
in an American film.

Three years later, Jet reteamed with Bartkowiak, producer Joel Silver,
Anderson, and "urban" musician DMX in the likewise-dreadful Cradle 2
the Grave
, which, numeral to the contrary, is not a sequel. The shocker
this time around is that it wasn't direct-to-video–maybe not so shocking,
because when the accountants stopped stacking the bullion from Romeo Must
Die
, it had made nearly $100M against a $25M investment. Cradle 2
the Grave
wasn't nearly so profitable and Li was immediately relegated to
bit parts as villains and characters named "Yin Yang." Gabrielle
Union plays Aaliyah this time around, though there's nary a thought to ever
placing Jet in a romantic entanglement with anyone here. Jet is
Taiwanese super-agent Su, who wants the "black diamonds" stolen by
Fait (DMX) and his crew of high-tech safecrackers. You see how I'm cunningly
employing these racial terms, I trust. It's humour. Evidently the black
diamonds are some kind of WMD that evil warlord Yao Ling (Mark Dacascos) wants
to sell to Arabs, I bet, thus Fait and Su team up to battle the evil forces of
Yao Ling. But their biggest enemy? An awful director and a screenplay by one of
the assholes who wrote Lethal Weapon 4 (Channing Gibson) and the
asshole responsible for Starsky & Hutch and The Dukes of
Hazzard
(John O'Brien).

We know that Fait's a good dude because he loves his daughter, and we
know that Su's a badass cipher employed by the filmmakers to ensure Fait's domestic
tranquility because Cradle 2 the Grave was half-scripted by the asshole
who wrote Lethal Weapon 4. We know we're in good hands, because during
the opening heist sequence, Anderson is asked to do a withering gay act that
does for gays what Mickey Rooney's Mr. Yunioshi did for Asians–you know, 'cause it's funny. Tom Arnold is in this movie, too, reminding
me as he ad-libs his way through an arms-dealer role that I sorta liked him
in the outrageously offensive True Lies, which is probably why he got
this gig; the film's best special effect, actually, is one where Tom Arnold
gives the best performance. What's fun about this movie is how it's equally unable to
transform DMX into an actor or a martial artist, but that doesn't stop them
from making him the emotional centre of the film. (This raises a lot of
rhetorical questions.) The fight scenes lack creativity and the movie's so
desperate for them that it falls back on that hoary old fight-flick conceit of Su having to enter a fight contest at one point to infiltrate a
club. This leads to an ignoble moment where Jet uses a little person (Martin
Klebba) as a weapon. Then the little person calls him "Bruce" (and
Arnold calls him a "Chinaman") in the only moment that's somewhat self-aware. Jet also gets to fight a giant bleached-blonde guy (UFC fighter
Tito Ortiz) like he will again in a bathroom in Unleashed. It makes
mores sense there in the shitter.

THE BLU-RAY DISCS
Come to think of it, these films are plotted and scored like porno
flicks: You know why we're here; if you get them for private use, you're no
doubt fast-forwarding to and replaying the money shots. Lucky for us all, then,
boom-chicka-wow-wow, Warner has deigned to release them on Blu-ray. Romeo Must Die's 2.40:1, 1080p catalogue-purge is standard new-millennial stuff. Colours are fine,
detail is fine. Scenes outdoors run a bit hot, but I'm gonna lay that at
the doorstep of ersatz stylist Bartkowiak. Still, the whole thing looks slightly electronic; I suspect the master used for DVD was not extensively updated. The 5.1 DTS-HD MA track is likewise
unexceptional, thanks to a mix that uses the rear channels and subwoofer
sparingly. Don't get me wrong, the hip-hop soundtrack is loud–indeed, to the point of overwhelming
everything in its path, including dialogue. It's a veritable wall of noise. An "HBO First
Look" (15 mins., SD–like all the supplements under discussion) promo reel has precious little Jet and entirely too much Anderson,
playin' the fool to his li'l buddy "Dim Sum." Lindo tries to
salvage some dignity for himself, but, yeah. Nothing to see here. Silver is
front and centre with such ridiculous statements as how the wire-fu is
"all Jet"–meaning what, exactly? What it means is that Silver
understands the appeal of Jet is his physical ability but that, even in understanding Jet's appeal, he's decided to fuck it up with X-ray bullet-time and CGI.
Two trailers and two Aaliyah music videos continue the dulling parade of extras that proceeds, inexplicably, with a "Making of" (4 mins.) for one of Aaliyah's
videos. Aaliyah, if you didn't know, died in a plane crash, though not before she
did Queen of the Damned. This isn't anywhere mentioned in the special features,
dating them instantly.

"Inside
the Visual Effects" (4 mins.) has dorks going on about how emotional and
violent are their computer animations of bones breaking;
"Diary of a Mad Bomber" (5 mins.) has stunt coordinator Tony
Laiarowicz talking about how awesome the movie is with its breaking glass
and explosions and shit; and "Anatomy of a Stunt" (7 mins.) is kind of
interesting because it gives names and faces to the stunt people (like Melissa
Stubbs) hired to risk their lives for a godawful movie. Stubbs is awesome, by the way. She
can't remember the name of the actress she's pretending to be and characterizes
as "ridiculous" the requirement that so many of her stunts involve
wearing tiny nighties while her male counterparts are in "full,
three-piece suits." It's like what they used to say about who was the
better dancer between Astaire and Rogers: Rogers, because she did everything
Fred did but backwards and in heels. I also like that her nickname is
"stubby." This featurette is worth the price of admission.

"The
Sound Stage" (2 mins.) is a substance-free bit that teaches nothing about
sound-mixing; "The Stair Dance" (1 min.) briefly goes over a stunt in
the film; "Kung Fu Football" (3 mins.) does the same for the
ridiculous football scene where Jet beats up a team of black people for no
reason; "A Benz, A Bike, A Babe and Some Bad-Assed Kung Fu" (4 mins.)
has Aaliyah making a joke about Jet's driving skills; "The Hose" (3
mins.) sees Jet swinging a fire hose around; "Master on Fire" (2
mins.) informs how no actual contact is
made when they fake fight; and "Jet Li is Han" (4 mins.) finds Anderson interrupting an introspective Jet to mug and act like a total fucking jackass. "Aaliyah is Trish" (5
mins.) is a far more respectful treatment of the pop singer's "journey" to becoming
an actress in this movie. She's shy! Like Jet! But she has a sassy side! She
contains multitudes. In "Anthony Anderson is Maurice" (3 mins.), Anderson identifies
himself as "the comic relief" as well as the insecure
fat kid who insulates himself with humour. During the credits of Cradle 2
the Grave
, watch and cringe as he and Tom Arnold engage in a Robin Williams
vs. Jonathan Winters improv showdown. If it doesn't make you swear off race
relations, you're a better man than me, Gunga Din.

Cradle
2 the Grave
docks in a visually similar 2.40:1, 1080p transfer that is, if
anything, sharper (especially in daylit sequences) and less prone to noise. Still workmanlike in every sense of
the word, though. The 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio is superior to its predecessor in that the
mix itself separates information properly and has dialogue modulated to correct
levels. A strong track–if you're a fan of Eminem, the opening titles will give
you a thrill. Best turn it off as soon as they're over. Like Romeo Must Die,
a bevy, a cornucopia, of useless extras follows. "Ultimate Fighting
Champions" (9 mins.) details how all these legends of the UFC were
enlisted to pretend-fight with Jet, the highlight of the piece being
either when Silver reveals that the Leo Getz character of Lethal Weapon fame was probably based on
him, or when Jet says that in real life, all these guys would kill him
in a few seconds.

"Choreography of the Camera" (8 mins.) dissects Jet's climactic showdown with Dacascos, with Silver occupying centre-stage again as he discusses camera coverage. Editors and stunt coordinators are
consulted (but not Corey Yuen, who did the fight choreography for both films), and the
"angle" button on your remote finally gets a use as this piece allows you to
watch the scene from three different perspectives. (It doesn't make it better,
but it does make it more irritating.) "The Descender Rig" (3 mins.) is
a quickie documenting a rig that is essentially a way to control the fall of a stunt person
attached to a wire. "Rear-Screen Projection" (3 mins.) explains how the titular ancient process was used in the subway sequence; and a
"Time Lapse Montage (2 mins.) is just that for the filming of the
fight-club set-piece. Why? I don' t know why. A DMX review plus Cradle 2 the Grave's theatrical trailer round
out the interminable presentation.

Cradle2thegravecap

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3 Comments

  1. KayKay

    Biff!Pow! Slam! And Walter delivers a knockout! I was relieved when the Mensa committee that decided that a tag-team combo of a hip-hop artiste with a martial arts star would spell box-office gold pulled the plug after 3 execrable outings.
    They should have just wedged Exit Wounds in there somewhere, slapped on a 3-for-1 offer and thrown this on the bargain bin stockpile. Or a landfill.
    Amazing how fans of hip-hop and chop socky didn’t spray their shots at this trifecta of classy film-making which attempted to position DMX as a charismatic leading man, thoroughly emasculated Jet Li and Steven Seagal, had no idea how to use Michael Jai White and Mark Dacascos and deems an Anthony Anderson and Tom Arnold conversation on the former’s mastubatory habits and the latter’s experience “being married to this real fat woman once” as the zenith of comedic excellence.
    Fickle audiences, eh?

  2. KayKay

    Biff!Pow! Slam! And Walter delivers a knockout! I was relieved when the Mensa committee that decided that a tag-team combo of a hip-hop artiste with a martial arts star would spell box-office gold pulled the plug after 3 execrable outings.
    They should have just wedged Exit Wounds in there somewhere, slapped on a 3-for-1 offer and thrown this on the bargain bin stockpile. Or a landfill.
    Amazing how fans of hip-hop and chop socky didn’t spray their shots at this trifecta of classy film-making which attempted to position DMX as a charismatic leading man, thoroughly emasculated Jet Li and Steven Seagal, had no idea how to use Michael Jai White and Mark Dacascos and deems an Anthony Anderson and Tom Arnold conversation on the former’s mastubatory habits and the latter’s experience “being married to this real fat woman once” as the zenith of comedic excellence.
    Fickle audiences, eh?

  3. KayKay

    Biff!Pow! Slam! And Walter delivers a knockout! I was relieved when the Mensa committee that decided that a tag-team combo of a hip-hop artiste with a martial arts star would spell box-office gold pulled the plug after 3 execrable outings.
    They should have just wedged Exit Wounds in there somewhere, slapped on a 3-for-1 offer and thrown this on the bargain bin stockpile. Or a landfill.
    Amazing how fans of hip-hop and chop socky didn’t spray their shots at this trifecta of classy film-making which attempted to position DMX as a charismatic leading man, thoroughly emasculated Jet Li and Steven Seagal, had no idea how to use Michael Jai White and Mark Dacascos and deems an Anthony Anderson and Tom Arnold conversation on the former’s mastubatory habits and the latter’s experience “being married to this real fat woman once” as the zenith of comedic excellence.
    Fickle audiences, eh?

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