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Jolie (whose lips could kill at a hundred paces) is Illeana Scott, a FBI profiler who does things a little differently, but is strong, capable and has the respect of the boys (Ashley Judd must have been busy the week when they made this). This respect leads her to being sent up to Montreal to investigate a homicide witnessed by art dealer Costa (Ethan Hawke) who Illeana slowly becomes attracted to. Partnered by sulky French male cop (aren't they always?) Paquette (Oliver Martinez), she soon links the murder to an elderly woman's conviction that she's seen her supposedly dead son, alive and well. It seems that a murderer is on the loose who, after killing people, takes on their identity. And he's after the only person who can identify him, Costa.

Hands up who loves 'Seven'? Just what I thought, everyone. Caruso clearly does as everything here is styled after 'Seven'. Except less effectively. In fact, if I was David Fincher I would have my lawyers on the phone based on the title sequence alone. Because as everyone (apart from hack directors apparently) knows, 'Seven' like all true masterpieces, is a one-off and its unique atmosphere and visuals can never be repeated properly. Sure, Caruso can try (and try here he does) by laying on lashings of dark corridors and grimy bedrooms and queasy close-ups of decomposing bodies, but it never attains a strong identity of its own and just becomes another serial killer flick to file under 'rip-off of 'Seven'.

That's not to say 'Taking Lives' is a total waste of time. It has an intriguing idea behind it of the killer taking his victims lives (even if it's never explained why) and while very silly at times and never surprising, is also never dull. There's also a jump that you know shouldn't get you, but it does and you'll be cursing yourself for letting it.

But these are the high points in a sea of mediocrity and low points. Joile gamely downplays her usual sultry styling (although she does whack them out at one point - hands up who's surprised by that?), but is hamstrung by the cliched role of intuitive, yet maverick, investigator which just becomes silly (we're introduced to her lying in the grave of one of the victims and she later scans the photos of dead bodies on a street in full view of the public). Hawke is over-the-top and borderline terrible as the freaked-out Costa, but even he manages to avoid being the worst thing here. Nope, that honour belongs to the hilariously bad Oliver Martinez. He's a walking cliche of glowering, moody machismo who thinks that going without shaving is the extent of characterisation and that being permanently pissed-off is the true art of acting. There's not a word of English that he can't mangle and he's a towering, preening achievement of monumentally bad acting. And he's still managed to bag Kylie Minogue. Oliver...I salute you.

But for all his efforts to make 'Taking Lives' so camp it's fun, it all falls apart by the end. The film itself teeters along the edge of ridiculousness, but the climax jumps off it. Without a parachute. Whilst screaming "Look how ridiculous I am!!". It's yet another wannabe 'Seven' that lacks the black, bleak heart that Fincher's classic had.

Bad enough to not be boring, 'Taking Lives' is the best of a bad bunch regarding serial killers and the like. But when you consider just how bad that bunch really is, that tells you all you need to know about how good 'Taking Lives' actually is.

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originally posted: 11/15/04 10:56:45
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