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September 26, 2006
Guardian: less enjoyable than wet blanket
After Waterworld, it seemed as though Kevin Costner was done making movies with bad special effects and water themes. Nevertheless, Touchstone Pictures’ The Guardian, a coming-of-age tale in which Ashton Kutcher plays an aspiring Coast Guard rescue swimmer under Costner’s tutelage hits theaters this Friday.
All previews and promotional materials for the film point toward an action flick filled with crashing waves and daring rescues, with Kutcher and Costner battling together on the high seas. What director Andrew Davis (The Fugitive, Collateral Damage) delivers, however, is a wishy-washy take on the mentor-protege relationship.
Opening on a poor digital rendering of the Bering Sea, the film follows Senior Chief Ben Randall (Costner) as he loses his partner in a botched rescue attempt. The loss, coupled with a separation from his wife (Sela Ward), causes Randall to slip, and eventually lands him a position at a Coast Guard training academy.
Enter all-star swimmer and all-around good guy, Jake Fischer (Kutcher). Fischer arrives at the academy determined to establish himself as the best and shatter the schools records. While interaction between the two is abrasive at first, Fischer and Randall each attempt to find out what makes the other tick.
The majority of the movie is spent in the learning phase at the academy, where Rocky-style montages flow like the chlorinated water in which the recruits tread. The heroes open up to one another through a series of seemingly random training tasks with generic paternal themes intertwined.
The film tries to put a new spin on some old clichÄs, and manages do so with some charm from time to time. The problem is that one can watch only so many predictable lines with quick, yet equally predictable responses, before tuning them out entirely. It is at this point that The Guardian loses that charm. And the movie is only half over.
The Guardian tries to pass the torch from Costner to Kutcher, though who would want a torch as tarnished as this one is a mystery. The writers bash this clichÄ into the heads of the viewers using the extra cheesy metaphor of a shared pack of Doublemint gum throw from Randall to Fischer.
The film ends with a predictable, over-the-top, and altogether underwhelming rescue sequence, which gives closure to points better left unfilmed. The Guardian draws out the audience far too long for a story that’s been told far too many times. Costner proves that he hit his high point long before Waterworld, and that his selection of scripts addresses the wrong generation of moviegoers.
Posted by dwright at September 26, 2006 10:43 PM
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