The wonderful thing about most movies is that they never stun you into disbelief with anything new or unheard of. They are a rather considerate lot that keep playing the same 'Polly Wants A Cracker' theme over and over again, so that you don't lose your marbles when you see something new apart from love, sex and violence.
Angel Eyes falls into the Polly Wants A Cracker category, where you have seen
the same situations, heard the same lines and felt disgusted at pretty much the
same stuff. J Lo plays Sharon Pogue, a female Rambo cop who make Robocop look
like he's been soaked in papier maché all day. One fine day she chances upon an
enigmatic stranger Fetch - oh no, Catch (no kidding, that's his name) - who saves
her life from a couple of rogue bullets.
Like I always say, there is no club sandwich without the cheese, so they soon
become romantically inclined. Now this Catch guy is not your normal hero - he's
a hero with a difference. He has a penchant for playing savior. In his musty,
greasy overcoat, he walks the streets looking for car headlights that someone
might have accidentally left on so that he can turn them off, stalks cops, and
generally displays the usual Norman Bates kinda behavior.
Now Sharon is dying to know more about him - where he is from, what he does and
the usual paraphernalia that all gals like to know about the ones they're cuckoo
about. And this is when the feeling of creepiness sets in as the guy remains mum
about his past.
The rest of the film crawls along and you stare like a goldfish in a bowl at the
screen, waiting for something mushy and happy to happen. No such luck. James Caviezel,
who plays Fetch - oops, Catch - is ingratiatingly ingratiating. He keeps staring
straight at you through the film, and you half expect his head to spin around
a la exorcist. J.Lo is okay, and she does her coply activities with all
the aplomb of a pop star. These two have as much chemistry as a shoe and a comb.
The only indication of a romantic scene, apart from the actors' vacant looks,
was the background lovey dovey music. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have
known my tush from my elbow.
There are some glaring holes in the script, and you look away with a dignity that comes from watching about half a million lousy love movies from across the planet. J.Lo is all curious about her new love right, but she doesn't have the ticking brain of a cop to do a background search on him. She instead whines about him, whimpering for more details about his past. Sheeeshhhhh.
The film says it was kismat that brought them together: unfortunately for the
filmmakers, our karma makes us leave the theater halfway. There is nothing in
this flick that you should get all thrilled about and spend half your monthly
patience on - it is strictly for those who can sit through just anything that
claims to be romantic.