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Review by Simon Bell
DENZEL
Washington is the stock baseball-cap wearing blue collar desperado against
the system who becomes a media hero-for-a-day dad when he forces medical staff
at gunpoint to perform a life-saving heart transplant on his sick, beloved
son.
Desperately trying to make a serious political point about the dearth of
sufficient healthcare provision for America's poor, Nick Cassavetes' latest
unfortunately banks on mistimed cutaways of whooping crowd members gathered
outside the Hope Memorial Emergency Ward for most of its rabble-rousing.
Talking of banality, this one has it all; the wealthy and uncompromising head
of cardiology; a steely hospital chief exec who softens to mush; a police
chief trying to keep his nose clean for the upcoming elections (would you
believe it, he has an irate mayor yelling down the phone to accommodate?);
the tough, seen-it-all-before hostage negotiator with a human touch.... the
list goes on.
In fact, so heavily does the film rely on hackneyed platitudes that it could
be a consummate lesson in cinematic flatness.
Denzel gives a heartfelt show as usual, but he's not going to do his post-Oscar
image much good if he keeps tangling himself up with the likes of this utter
bilge.
Meanwhile, not even the talents of Ray Liotta and Robert Duvall can inject
any life into this flaccid mess. They don't even look like they care, come
to that.
Lacking any of the raw intensity or profound insight of his dad's work (can
Cassavete's Jnr really be of the same genes as John?), John Q just ends up
a cheap homage to Dog Day Afternoon, with every cliche in the book battered
about like there's no tomorrow.
As it crashes and burns its way to a deeply unsatisfactory ending, it even
has the cheek to send us packing with the tired news montage sign-off. Non-masochists
avoid, this is as much fun as the NHS.
Click here for the
John Q official website.