January
12, 2001| The makers of Antitrust do such a delightfully
nasty job of demonizing Bill Gates that, when the closing credits started
to roll, I half-expected to read: "A Netscape Production."
Or, "Additional dialogue by U.S. Justice Department."
Don't
misunderstand: Gary Winston, the duplicitous software mogul played by
Tim Robbins, isn't really Bill Gates. But Robbins provides a
more than reasonable facsimile of the genuine article, to the point
of persuasively replicating Gates' ingratiating grimaces and awkward
hand gestures. Occasionally, he even sounds like Gates, particularly
when he says, in response to a government investigator, "Any kid
in the world working in his garage with a good idea can put us out of
business." That's his story and, by gosh, he's sticking to it.
Robbins'
spot-on caricature of the world's most famous multi-billionaire is such
a fiendishly clever piece of work, you can't help wishing his performance
appeared in a much better movie. Antitrust isn't exactly awful,
but it isn't anything special, either. Director Peter Howitt (Sliding
Doors) and screenwriter Howard Franklin (Someone to Watch Over
Me) strike an indelicate balance between trendy techno patois and
creaky thriller cliches, relying heavily on cheap tricks and moldy conventions
while striving mightily to seem as cutting-edge topical as next month's
Wired magazine. To their credit, they do manage to generate some
genuine suspense with their by-the-numbers plot. But Robbins gives the
movie much more than it ever gives him.
Milo
Hoffman (Ryan Phillippe), the hero of the piece, is an idealistic young
computer whiz who joins his like-minded buddies in a garage-based start-up
enterprise. But before the partners see the first pennies of venture
capital, Milo is lured away by NURV, the fabulously successful software
company owned and operated by the notorious Gary Winston.
Using
equal measures of seductive chumminess and steely authority, Winston
drives Milo and dozens of other overachievers toward fulfilling his
vision of technology for total digital convergence. (NURV, it should
be noted, stands for Never Underestimate Radical Vision.) Unfortunately,
that fulfillment is taking a very long time, and might not be ready
for its much-hyped release date. The clock is ticking, and Winston -
not for the first time, apparently - is willing to OK drastic measures
for killer apps.
Milo
is so pleased with his new job, and so happy that Winston pays such
personal attention to his work, he fails to notice how easily Winston
finds an innovative solution to each new research-and-development problem.
Can it be that Winston - gee, how can this be delicately phrased? -
makes unauthorized use of other people's inventions? Might he be doing
something less than ethical? Could he be, well, Satan?
It
takes the violent death of a close friend, and some profoundly suspicious
behavior on the part of his live-in girlfriend (Claire Forlani), to
make Milo nervous about NURV. Unfortunately, since he is the hero of
a thriller and not a reasonably sentient human being, he blabs his worst
suspicions to a beautiful colleague (Rachael Leigh Cook).
The
implausibilities pile ever higher when, late one night, Milo breaks
into a deserted building on the NURV campus, and conveniently finds
incriminating evidence in a company computer. (That's right, Milo: Just
open the file named "MurderVideo.avi.") But then, just to
show they have at least a modicum of shame, the filmmakers stop short
of turning Milo into Action Hero 5.0. Indeed, after he's pummeled by
one of the minor villains, the bad guy jeers: "What's with all
this Mission: Impossible 3 shit, man? You're just a geek!"
Actually,
the dreamily hunky Ryan Phillippe must wear reading glasses from time
to time in order to affect a sufficient degree of geekiness. And even
then, his performance seldom rises above the level of a good try. Cook
is equally bland, and Forlani snaps to life only when she's suggesting
that her character has done bad, bad things. But never mind: Robbins
is such a live wire that he jump-starts his co-stars whenever he interfaces
with them.