Man On Fire
Remember in Adventures in Babysitting when
Elizabeth Shue says “Don’t fuck with The Babysitter!”? She was not
kidding! This film, Man On Fire, is about Denzel playing a crazy
babysitter who runs around
Denzel plays the same character he and most action
guys these days play: some ex-Special Forces professional asskicker who now
tries to live in peace and whatever. Like all action heroes Denzel’s
character is named John, and like all action heroes he is only referred to by
his last name which is Greasybear. I’m kinda surprised at how many of
these ex-Special Forces guys there are out there wandering the earth. In
this movie Denzel’s character is haunted by all the killing he had to do and
that’s why every night he gets drunk and plays Russian roulette.
You’d think the C.I.A. would be grateful when a guy
like John Bourne-Identity (played by Matt Damon) would get amnesia. It
seems remembering all the badassed assassin stuff you did makes you go crazy,
so wouldn’t amnesia be a great way to ease these guys into retirement? But
no, the C.I.A. chose to fuck with Bourne but leave a maniac like Denzel to
become a bazooka-wielding childminder. Centralized intelligence my ass!
Come to think of it, in Transporter 2 John
Transporter became a babysitter after retiring from the Special Forces, too.
There’s something really wrong with aptitude testing if people who are supposed
to be babysitters keep getting recommended careers as world-class
assassins. I’m glad James Bond hasn’t pulled a Kindergarten Cop
yet.
Anyway, when Denzel’s not drinking to compartmentalize
his Special Forces assassin days he likes hanging out with Christopher Walken
and talking about how they’re both going to hell. Life of the party,
right? He and Walken apparently worked together and now Walken has
retired to bang hot Mexican chicks and cruise around the desert in a hummer and
chug sangria. I think when they’re recruiting for the Special Forces they
should ask what you plan on doing in retirement and if you answer “babysitter”
they pass on you and if you say “chug sangria, bang young Mexican ladies, and
cruise around in aggressive vehicles” then you get hired. These
babysitter types like Denzel and The Transporter seem to have authority figure
problems and be overly sensitive and could compromise Special Forces operations
with their uncompromising natures. But I’m no HR guy.
When Denzel is interviewing for his gig as a
babysitter J. Lo’s husband asks him why his services are so cheap and Denzel
replies “I drink, it slows my reactions”. Mr. J. Lo is pretty cool with that
answer. I’ve never tried admitting to alcoholism as a selling point in a
job interview, but after this movie I might give it a shot. Denzel starts
babysitting a little girl named Lupita (played by Dakota Fanning) she’s really
cute and really bright, just like all the little girls in the Iraqi villages
Denzel used to bomb, so they bond naturally. Denzel starts teaching her
how to swim and acts like a drill sergeant, which is better than most
babysitters who just act snotty.
But then Denzel has a bad day on the job and gets shot
a few less times than 50 Cent. I can understand how Denzel didn’t see it
coming. He was nowhere near Lupita’s school when it happened. I
mean, you couldn’t pay me enough to go near a modern school. Those places
are fuckin’ arms bazaars as much as I can tell from the news. Dying in a
school shooting is the new cancer; nothing you can do about it. But
getting shot in the street is still a cold surprise. The weird thing is
Denzel’s mind immediately jumps to a huge conspiracy plot. I think if I
were a black man who got shot for no reason by two cops in the street my only
thought would be “Awww shit! Not again!”
Denzel wakes up and finds out that Lupita was
kidnapped. Denzel does a bit of digging and finds out that a secret corrupt
brotherhood called ‘La Hermandad’ is behind it. ‘La Hermandad’ is Spanish
for ‘The Brotherhood’. Those Mexicans are pretty smart to call their
brotherhood ‘La Hermandad’; they must have one of those fancy Spanish to
Spanish dictionaries or something. There’s lots of secret code talk like
that in this movie.
It turns out that fuckin’ everybody is in the
brotherhood de la hermandad and that they live a lifestyle known as ‘la vida’
where they profit money known as ‘mucho deniro’ off of kidnappings known as
‘los kidnappos’. Cops, journalists, politicians, The Bodysnatchers have
nothing on La Hermandad. It seems everybody in
This film could’ve gone all intellectual and started
debating the ethical ambiguities between kidnapping, babysitting, and
parenting, but it did the smart thing and just gave Denzel a shotgun sent him
hollering into a discotheque. That’s what you get when you hire Tony Scott,
director of Top Gun.
Denzel uses some advanced babysitting techniques and
Spanish to torture his way to the top of the brotherhood of ‘La
Hermandad’. He runs around chopping people’s fingers off and firing
bazookas. Christopher Walken tells authorities that Denzel’s art is death
and that he’s about to paint his masterpiece. I would’ve appreciated it
if he’d said “John’s art is death, motherfuckers. And he’s about to
paint his motherfuckin’ masterpiece!” But that style of writing
didn’t help Snakes On a Plane so I’ll rest content with the way it was.
I like brutal death being referred to as “an
art”. I think this was the film’s subtle ploy at getting an Oscar
nod. It didn’t work. Too subtle. They should’ve put Meryl
Streep playing an alcoholic retard prostitute if they really wanted
awards. If it’s any consolation, I’ll gladly give this film the award of Best
Film about a Bazooka-Wielding Babysitter Ever. If Denzel wants to
come accept it, I’ll make a little trophy and everything.
So Denzel paints his masterpiece of death and boy does
it belong in the fucking Louvre! I like Denzel’s acting powers during
scenes when he tortures people for information. He seems genuinely
impatient. There’s a pretty good one where he tapes a muchacho’s hands to
a steering wheel and cuts off the victim’s fingers and burns the stumps when he
doesn’t get the answers he wants. Denzel goes into full fuckin’ Charles
Bronson mode complete with that must-have shot of Denzel as a toughguy walking
slowly away from something as it explodes behind him. Sure, this is a
cliché, but in Man On Fire you get the sense he’s not bothering to look
at that explosion because he’s already planning out the explosion
two-explosions-from-now in his Denzel head.
In a way this film is kind of a remake of The
Wicker Man in that it’s about an overly elaborate plot involving way too
many people to kidnap one little girl. But I like this film more because
Denzel shoves a grenade up a guy’s ass instead of just calling everybody
“pagans”.
If you liked
this, here are some other recommended articles:
The Name’s Denzel, John Denzel
The future of Mr.
The most
in-depth analysis of this groundbreaking film franchise in the world.
This guy is sorta like Bourne, but with friends.