Travolta thriller fails to thrill and 'Domestic' violence is disturbing
The only redeeming feature of the truly awful thriller "Domestic Disturbance," is seeing Steve Buscemi as a lowlife loser, eyes red-rimmed and teeth askew, delivering lines like "You registered at Crate & Barrel!" in a threatening tone. Actually, whenever Buscemi's on screen, wearing ratty shirts and wondering where the adult bookstores are, the movie becomes ever-so-slightly watchable. But he quickly disappears, and so does any hope of a decent movie.
John Travolta, likable as ever, stars as Frank Morrison, a Decent Guy. We know he's decent, because the movie keeps pointing out that he builds wooden boats with his very own hands, like his father and his father's father before him. Frank's ex-wife Susan (Teri Polo) is marrying an irritating yuppie, Rick (Vince Vaughn, shifty-eyed and puffy), causing Frank to fret into his Diet Rite Cola. (Turns out Frank has a mysterious drinking problem, which surfaces only when convenient.)
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When Susan and Frank's son, Danny (Matt O'Leary), accuses Rick of a terrible crime, Frank's protective instincts kick in — as do the weary mechanisms of a way-too-familiar suspense story, with people hiding in shadows and showing up in bathroom mirrors and popping through windows unexpectedly. Unexpectedly, that is, if you've never seen a movie before.
It's all indifferently acted, sloppily directed and edited, and utterly ridiculous — its dramatic high point is reached when Susan sees Rick applying ointment to his arm. And there's no attempt at coherence or logic. Poor Susan Floyd, as Frank's girlfriend, needs to be cleared out of the way midmovie, so she utters "I can't do this," and vanishes. Perhaps she read the rest of the screenplay.
Watchdogs of the MPAA ratings board, take note: This movie, which includes stabbing, brutal fistfights, electrocution, a 12-year-old being repeatedly terrorized, and an absolutely horrific sequence in which the kid is violently beaten up by an adult, has been rated PG-13. Meanwhile, "Waking Life," "Go Tigers!" "Our Song" and other recent films received R ratings because of an occasional F-word or a whiff of drug use. The MPAA has repeatedly denied that it is more lenient with big-studio films, or that it gives less weight to violence than to sex or language, but I think the evidence here speaks for itself.
Moira Macdonald can be reached at 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com.