November 15, 2002 | During the
opening minutes of Half
Past Dead , we're introduced to Steven Seagal as a character who
claims to be a Russian mobster. (Mercifully, we're spared any attempt
at an appropriate accent.) Then we're told the other people on screen
actually believe he's a Russian mobster.
And then the movie gets really preposterous.
I'm afraid you won't get through this frankly fantastical by-the-numbers
B-flick with just a suspension of disbelief. Rather, you'll have to wrestle
disbelief to the ground, and then apply a chloroform-soaked handkerchief.
And yet, if you do somehow manage to restrain
your skepticism – or,
perhaps better, you just throw up your hands and go with the flow – you
can have a down-and-dirty, rock-the-house good time with Half Past
Dead , the kind of movie that encourages audiences to provide their
own running commentary. You could wait for the home video release, and
make rude comments in the privacy of your home screening room. But, trust
me, it's much more exhilarating to enter a megaplex auditorium, armed
with a huge soft drink and a tub of hot buttered popcorn, and join dozens
of like-minded action fans in yelling such responses as, “Yeah, right!” Or, “Damn!
Can't you hit anything with that gun?” Or, “Hey, dude! You're gonna get
you butt kicked real good now!”
Seagal plays Sasha Petrosevitch, a burly
hard case who worms his way into an international carjacking ring by
earning the trust of bantamweight Nick Frazier (Ja Rule), a pistol-packing
thief with an itchy trigger finger. Unfortunately, Nick decides to
draw his guns when the FBI raids the crime ring's chop shop. Even more
unfortunately, Sasha takes a few bullets during the melee, and very
nearly gets embraced by the light – hence,
the title – before recovering sufficiently to finish his undercover work.
That's right: Sasha's really a deep-cover
agent, assigned to use Nick as his stepping stone to the heavyweights
who run the carjacking operation. (Naturally, it's not just a mater
of law-and-order business; it's a personal crusade of vengeance for
our hero.) Sasha is so determined to stick close to Nick that, when
the latter is shipped off to a newly refurbished Alcatraz prison – played, in a bold stroke of casting, by a soundstage in Germany – Sasha
gets himself sentenced to the same institution, for a reunion with his
new best friend.
Which, of course, means that – in the grand
tradition of Under Siege ,
Seagal's very best movie, and Die Hard , the masterwork that
spawned Under Siege and dozens of other imitators – our hero
is the right man in the wrong place at the right time when all hell breaks
loose.
Sasha arrives at Alcatraz just in time for
the execution of Lester (Bruce Weitz), a criminal mastermind who's
determined to go to his grave without revealing where he hid $200 million
in stolen gold bullion. But before Lester can meet his maker – which he's serenely prepared to do, having
experienced a religious conversion that, surprisingly, the movie doesn't
exploit for cheap laughs – Alcatraz is assaulted by a commando team led
by Donny (Morris Chestnut), a disgruntled State Prison Bureau employee
who wants a crack at “convincing” Lester to spill the beans about the
bullion.
And just when you think things can't get
any more contrived, a Supreme Court justice (Linda Thorson) is tossed
into the mix. She's on hand to witness the execution, which means she's
conveniently available for use as a hostage when…
Wait a minute! You're going to need some more chloroform!
No doubt about it: Half Past Dead is three-quarters past absurd.
But the fight scenes (choreographed by Hong Kong master Xin Xin Xiong)
are more than passably impressive, and the cat-and-rat games played by
Sasha and the prison invaders make for totally predictable but reasonably
exciting mayhem. Don Michael Paul, working from his own screenplay, directs
like someone who has studied the entire oeuvre of John Woo, and actually
leaned a few things about pacing and editing. Indeed, the movie bogs
down only during a few painfully sincere scenes that are meant to provide,
ahem, character development.
With the help of some quick cutting and crafty camera angles, the middle-aging
Seagal appears to be just as fleet-footed and two-fisted as ever. His
acting is, as usual, best described as minimalist, though he does have
an undeniable screen presence. Throughout long stretches of the movie,
though, he's content to recede into the background while more animated
co-stars take over.
Much of the movie is pilfered by Ja Rule, the latest rapper-turned-actor
(after DMX in Exit Wounds ) employed to enhance Seagal's appeal
to younger, more racially diverse audiences. Claudia Christian has a
few choice moments as a hard-bitten FBI agent who looks great in a bulletproof
vest. And Nia Peeples struts through the movie like she's in love with
her own bad self as Donny's second-in-command, a leather-clad vixen who
obviously took lessons in slo-mo hair tossing and coat swinging from
the character Lucy Liu essayed in Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever .