Anyone seasoned in watching movies or thinking logically can look at 88 Minutes and realize the flaws from the outset. Where 88 Minutes manages to deviate from expectation is in its flawed choices, as it departs from the norm and borders on Are you kidding me? territory.
Films such as Cellular, with the word strictly in the title, don’t make use of the cancer causing mobile devices to the extent this film does. And when Pacino isn’t speed dialing his assistant, he is causing us to hold our lunch as his female co-star (Alicia Witt) hits on him time and time again despite being less than half his age. The prospect is frightening, but not as frightening as how far Pacino has dropped down the totem pole when it comes to “actors to watch”.
The last time I can truly say Pacino blew me away was in the 1997 thriller The Devil’s Advocate. Al plays the devil and knocks it out of the park. The last time director Jon Avnet made anything anyone gave two shits about was probably 1991’s Fried Green Tomatoes. So, the thought of these two actors joining forces as they seem to be well beyond their prime dwindles even further when we realize this is one of those race-against-the-clock films. All that aside, the major problem here is that THE CLOCK DOESN’T MATTER!!! The way this thing works out Pacino has to actually go to the killer to get killed. Who does that?
Suppose someone calls you and says you have 88 minutes to live. First off, why the arbitrary 88 minutes? Why not 90? There is a reason for this, but poor Al doesn’t catch on to it right away. Secondly, why not go to the cops and say, “Hey, someone is gonna try and kill me in 88 minutes, mind if I chill here for a couple hours?” It’s so simple and it immediately throws any rational and logical thinking audience member into a tizzy as they watch a 68-year-old Al Pacino run around the streets of downtown Seattle looking for God knows what with his hussy in tow.
You see, Al’s playing an FBI forensic psychiatrist and he just put away the Seattle Slayer (yeah, I laughed at that too), but he is suspected (by the killer) to have tampered with evidence and coached witnesses and blah, blah, blah… Al’s primary job is as a college professor and last night he partied it up with his students, hooked up with a chick 40 years his younger and the following day the world has turned to shit. One of his students is dead, he gets this phone call and now the Seattle Slayer is getting a stay of execution.
Oh, did I mention there is never a sign as to why Mr. Seattle Slayer got picked up in the first place? Basically all we know is that Pacino fingered him for the killer and a witness says he did it. There is no evidence and nothing linking him to the crime. Yet, he’s on death row. Go figure.
So, the clock is ticking… almost literally… You are going to want to kill yourself by the 100th time you hear the phrase “tick, tock, doc”. God, it’s irritating just writing it.
One final complaint… Leelee Sobieski spells disaster. Seriously, this girl makes you cringe just watching her.
Even though I know people are going to go see this movie due to the Pacino factor, my screening was packed, I beg you to skip it. This one hurts your brain and you have far better things to waste your time and money on.
