Release Date: January 12, 2001
Starring: Ryan Phillippe, Tim Robbins, Rachael Leigh Cook, Claire Forlani
Directed by: Peter Howitt
Written by: Howard Franklin
Distributed by: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (some violence, brief language)
Antitrust is the newest technothriller that tries to bring hot rising actors into a scheme of deceit and corruption. While the message was nice, the technique and attention to detail weren't so technologically advanced.
Antitrust takes you through the minds of venture-capitalist computer geniuses and monopolistic corporate-minded businessmen. The computer prodigy in question is Stanford-grad Milo Hoffman (Ryan Phillippe), who, at the movie's open, accepts a job at the Portland-based computer software firm NURV. Run by Gary Winston (Tim Robbins), a Pringles addict and Bill Gates look-alike, NURV has vague intentions of controlling the world -- or at least its information -- through a network of satellites only months away from its launch date. Currently the only thing holding NURV back are some hiccups in the software, and as Milo begins to find out, Gary and NURV have questionable methods of fixing the glitches. The plot thickens, people are killed, true identities are discovered, and sides are taken. The suspense builds as Milo and Gary face off in a battle of wits and typing skills.
With a plot like this one, you should be on the edge of your seat the entire time. And while the movie does rush into the meat of the story from the very beginning, it leaves out those really important elements of storytelling, like character development and an awareness of the story's whole.
As far as character development, the viewer is placed into Milo's friendships without any background. Claire Forlani plays Alice Poulson, and her character's role shifts vaguely from that of friend to Milo to that of lover to Milo. The other woman in Milo's life, coworker Lisa Calighan (Rachael Leigh Cook), has her own twists and a background that was obviously devised to add more drama to the picture, but with no real purpose in mind. In fact, many supporting characters all have separate agendas -- but most of the agendas aren't developed to feel strongly connected to the central plot line.
Whether this is the fault of director Peter Howitt (Sliding Doors) or writer Howard Franklin is unclear. Franklin's history as a scribe is a versatile one, including titles that range from Romancing the Stone to The Man Who Knew Too Little, but he shows here he hasn't grasped the writing of a true thriller yet.
Behind the scenes, composer Don Davis and editor Zach Staenberg, both of whom collaborated on The Matrix, are busy at work. To their credit, their contributions added some suspense to the film -- quick cuts of Milo's typing skills and the appropriate bursts of an upbeat score reminiscent of The Matrix. But generally the thrills were small and predictable, and there's not much that these two could've done to overcome the serious missteps committed by director Howitt and cinematographer John Bailey. The latter's camerawork struggles to find a consistent beat the entire length of the film -- and never really does. Bailey goes from extreme close-ups to basic over-the-shoulder work to wild pans and jump cuts to dramatic overhead shots. It could generously be called an interesting style, but for a thriller the camera needs to be in the action as much as possible.
One thing the camera never missed, though, was the shameless product placement. It starts with a friendly can of Pepsi in Milo's hand in the beginning of the film. Then Gary gets into the act, picking up a Pringles can and eating some chips with a pleasant crunching noise, washing it down by drinking out of a Pepsi can with a pleasant sipping noise to go with it. But the real kicker would have to be the Pepsi machine in the middle of a vacant room. Picture an otherwise dark room, with the only light coming from a Pepsi machine -- only it has no plot function whatsoever. Product placement is all well and good -- it's done wonders for the movie industry, but the line must be drawn at vacant rooms with soda machines in them.
The post-production work was just as weak. Since cameras don't record computer screens very well, they have to be digitally generated -- but one scene finds Milo looking at Gary's laptop, which doesn't even appear to be on. It seems as though the blokes in post-production spent their time and energy choosing footage to inflate the shameless product placement as much as possible.
Overall, the message for Antitrust was weak, the characters and setting weren't developed, and the style wasn't consistent or right for a thriller of this nature. It had me in suspense at moments, but not often enough. One need only look at the cliché photo finish and fade out to get a sense of this film's true worth.
all contents © 2001 Michael J. Eiff