AHMM, July-August 2007

by Dell Magazine Authors

  The Flock

  A remake of Jonathan Livingston Seagull? A sequel to The Birds? A biopic about early ‘80s one-hit wonders A Flock of Seagulls? None of the above, as it turns out. The English-language debut of Chinese director Wai Keung Lau, The Flock stars Richard Gere as a federal agent obsessed with a paroled sex offender who may or may not be connected to a horrific new crime. Lau's won critical raves by combining crime thriller chills with perverse psychology, most notably in his intense Infernal Affairs trilogy. The first film in the cops-and-robbers (and cops as robbers) series was recently remade in America ... as Oscar-winner The Departed.May 11

  Fay Grim

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  Jeff Goldblum and Parker Posey in Fay Grim. Photo (c) Possible Films

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  As always, the summer schedule's jam-packed with sequels: Spider-Man 3, Shrek the Third, the final Pirates of the Carib-bean adventure, et cetera. But at least one of them (Fay Grim) is hardly recognizable as a sequel at all. It's a follow-up to Hal Hartley's quirky, little seen 1997 dramedy Henry Fool. While the original explored the twisted relationship be-tween a wannabe poet and a sad-sack garbageman, the sequel's a thriller. This time, the focus is on the garbageman's sister, Fay (Parker Posey), who's dragged into international in-trigue by a CIA agent (Jeff Goldblum) convinced that her ex-husband's a terrorist. May 18 (limited release—which means if you don't live in New York, Chicago, or L.A., you'll probably have to wait for the flick to come out on DVD.)

  Captivity

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  Elisha Cuthbert in Captivity

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  Imagine the sadistic horror hit Saw if it had been directed by an A-list Academy Award-nominated director. Oh, wait ... you don't have to imagine it. Here it is. The Killing Fields and The Mission—helmer Roland Joffé tries his hand at suspense with this tale of a model (Elisha Cuthbert) who—à la the Saw films—is held prisoner by a voyeuristic killer with a fondness for twisted mind games. We're guessing Joffé won't get another shot at Oscar for this one. May 18 (also in limited release)

  Bug

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  Ashley Judd in Bug (c) Lions Gate Films

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  A week after Captivity opens, another A-list director puts the screws to a beautiful actress. This time out, it'll be William Friedkin (of The Exorcist and French Connection fame), with Ashley Judd as his star/victim. Judd plays a woman trapped in a seedy motel with a crazed veteran (Michael Shannon) ... or is she the one who's going nuts? While most summer movie adaptations take comic books or TV shows as their inspiration, this one's based on an off-Broadway play. May 25

  Mr. Brooks

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  William Hurt puts bad ideas in Kevin Costner's head (c) MGM Studios

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  Here's a pitch you've probably never heard before: It's Harvey meets Silence of the Lambs! Whereas Jimmy Stewart's furry rabbit buddy encouraged him to live life as a free spirit, in Mr. Brooks Kevin Costner's imaginary friend (William Hurt) encourages him to kill, Kill, KILL! Demi Moore plays a detective who suspects that Costner's got bats (or William Hurt, anyway) in his belfry, while CSI veteran Marg Helgenberger plays the clueless Mrs. Brooks. Costner's already talking sequel. But whether anyone joins the conversation remains to be seen. June 1

  Ocean's Thirteen

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  Nancy Drew photo (c) Warner Bros.

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  Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones are out, Ellen Barkin and Al Pacino are in, and everything else should be pretty much the same in the newest (and most likely last) adventure for thief Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and his criminal crew (Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Bernie Mac, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera). June 8

  Nancy Drew

  Thank you, Veronica Mars! You showed Hollywood there's still an audience for spunky female sleuths, and now voilà: The original girl detective is getting a twenty-first century makeover. Emma (daughter of Eric, niece of Julia) Roberts plays the inquisitive teen who, on a trip to Hollywood with her dad (Tate Donovan), gets mixed up in a movie star's murder. June 15

  Live Free or Die Hard

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  Live Free or Die Hard (c) 20th Century Fox

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  Talk about dying hard—here's one franchise that refuses to stay in the grave. Twelve years after his last outing, tough-guy cop John McClane (Bruce Willis) is knee-deep in terrorists yet again. This time, the series gets a modern reboot thanks to a cyber-crime plotline. When a gang of evil computer geniuses (led by Deadwood's Timothy Olyphant) launches an attack on America's computers, McClane has to team up with a wacky hacker (Justin Long) to save the country from chaos.

  June 29

  The Strangers

  It's Sam Peckinpah's brutal 1971 thriller Straw Dogs that gets an updating here ... although The Strangers isn't billed as a remake. As in Peckinpah's controversial film, a mild-mannered couple (Dustin Hoffman and Susan George in ‘71, Scott Speedman and Liv Tyler now) is forced to confront—and perhaps draw strength from—the violent tendencies buried inside themselves when they're terrorized by thugs in an isolated home. Very twenty-first century spin: Instead of being a bunch of brutish yokels, the bad guys this time include Australian supermodel Gemma Ward. July 13

  1408

  Stephen King sure likes seeing his fellow scribes suffer. Not by depriving them of sales by producing an endless string of bestsellers ... though he's still doing that. But he torments them on the page too. The Shining, Misery, Secret Window, and now 1408—all dragged writers away from their word processors and dropped them into dark pits of despair and madness. The newest film (based on a King short story) stars John Cusack as a paranormal investigator working on a book about famous hauntings. A cynic who no longer believes in the afterlife, he finds his faith again—with a vengeance—after an eventful night in a creepy hotel room. Unfortunately, up against Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which opens the same day, this film probably doesn't have the ghost of a chance ... July 13

  The Bourne Ultimatum

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  The Bourne Ultimatum (c) Universal

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  In the third entry in The Bourne [fill in the blank] series, our amnesiac hero (Matt Damon) once again bounces around the globe in search of his identity while nefarious no-goodniks search for him. The twist this time: The no-goodniks include a super-assassin (Edgar Ramirez) every bit as skilled as the deadly Bourne himself. Could this be the end of Jason Bourne? Only if the film tanks—which doesn't seem likely with Damon, Joan Allen, Julia Stiles, and Bourne Supremacy helmer Paul Greengrass (United 93) all back in action. August 3

  Rush Hour 3

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  Rush Hour 3 (c) New Line

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  Jackie Chan. Chris Tucker. Paris. Really, do we need to say more? You'll either go to see it based on that alone ... or not, for that same reason. August 10

  Copyright (c) 2007 Steve Hockensmith

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  PANDORA'S JOURNEY by Gilbert M. Stack

  For as long as Corey had known Patrick, Luck had turned her back on the old.

  "Anyone interested in a friendly game of cards?"

  Corey sighed. He'd heard that offer far too many times to have any doubts as to its disastrous implications for his finances. As he'd feared, Patrick's head perked right up beside him from its light snoring and looked around the railcar. “I could always sit for a friendly game,” he announced, before digging his elbow lightly into Corey's ribs. “How much money do I have left, Corey, me lad?"

  Corey winced. His chest, face, and arms were covered with bruises where he'd been beaten by a lynch mob four nights before, and the flesh covering those ribs was ugly and tender. But that didn't stop him from reaching for his wallet and their diminishing cache of prize money. “You ran out of cash a week ago,” he reminded Patrick. “How much will you need?"

  "That's the spirit,” the original voice repeated. “Now who else wants to play?"
r />   Looking around, Corey spotted the speaker sitting about midway down the length of the railcar. They were both passengers on the train leaving Cheyenne for points farther west. There were fifteen or twenty other passengers sharing the car, all of them looking at either Patrick or the speaker.

  A military officer half stood from his seat to get the gentleman's attention. “Just how friendly a game do you have in mind, sir?"

  In the seat beside Corey on the other side from Patrick, Miss Pandora Parson shifted her attention to examine the officer. She was a well-dressed young woman with brilliant red hair and a sprinkle of freckles on her nose. She'd been traveling with the boxer and Patrick, his trainer, since they had left Denver together a few weeks before.

  The original gambler, a tall broad mountain of a man with a string tie, responded to the officer. “A very friendly game, Captain. Just a few hands of cards to help while away the miles and enough money at stake to keep the game interesting."

  "Lieutenant,” the officer corrected him. “I haven't been a captain since the War Between the States. Lieutenant Thomas Ridgewood is my name."

  "Gambling is the scourge of the God-fearing man,” an elderly woman observed in a loud voice. “Mark my words, gentlemen. It's Satan's work you're contemplating."

  "That's three,” the initial speaker announced, ignoring the old woman's warning. “Is anyone else interested?"

  Corey looked to Miss Parson to see if she wanted to join the game. Unlike Patrick, she was a skilled enough player to have a realistic chance of leaving richer than she started. Noticing his attention, Miss Parson gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. Corey accepted her refusal without further comment. He had no interest in card games himself. If Miss Parson wanted to give this one a pass, then that was fine with him.

  "Satan's work!” the old woman repeated. She stood at her seat, clutching her Bible tightly in her right hand. A young man sitting next to her tried to get her to sit down again, but she would not listen to him. The force of her righteous anger smothered any small levity that had hitherto survived the Wyoming August heat, and it appeared that Patrick's card game would suffer a stillborn death. Corey began to breathe easier. Perhaps his old friend would not have the opportunity to lose the rest of their small savings until after they left the train. The old man never saw the cards as anything but an opportunity to add to their meager wealth, but in Corey's recollection, the final result usually increased the urgency of scheduling Corey's next fight. After the beating Corey had taken in Cheyenne protecting Patrick from a misdirected hanging, the bare-knuckle fighter knew it could be weeks before he was fit to fight again. So anything that delayed the card game would ultimately help Corey and Patrick keep eating.

  Satisfied that she had made her point, the old woman nodded once and sat down. Private conversations began to resume only to be interrupted again. “I suppose I could be your fourth man, lads, but the Lord alone knows where we'll find our fifth."

  The old woman shot back up in her seat. “Who said that?” she demanded.

  In response, a grayhaired figure in black cassock and white collar rose to his feet.

  "The woman gasped in horror. “A minister?"

  "Priest, madam,” the old man corrected her. “I really don't feel like playing,” he continued, “but I hate to see a Protestant squelching the only bit of fun there is likely to be on this train today."

  "You heathen!” the woman screamed. Her jaw kept working after the words stopped, as if she were struggling to find stronger things to say.

  "Catholic, madam,” the priest said apologetically. “It's you poor Protestants who are the heathens.” He turned to the rest of the railcar and rubbed his hands with glee. “So what are we waiting for, I ask you? Let's get the conductors to set up a table for us. While you,” he indicated the man with the string tie, “dash into the next car and see if you can find us another player."

  "No need to do that!” Patrick announced. “Miss Parson here is a right fine player."

  Miss Parson turned to stare at Patrick, a less than friendly expression on her face. “Mr. O'Sullivan, I quite think I can make up my own mind as to whether or not—"

  "Jezebel!” the old woman shrieked. “Harlot! Dragging these fine men into sin!"

  Miss Parson whirled away from Patrick to glare at the old woman. Her body trembled with anger, and she twisted her mother's silver wedding band around on her finger. She had known this was likely to happen, Corey realized. In fact, she had probably encountered this reaction many times before. It was probably why she played principally in saloons and avoided mixed company.

  "Why thank you, Mr. O'Sullivan,” Miss Parson said. “I believe a game of cards would be quite refreshing."

  "If she can play, may I?” a small, feminine, honeysuckle voice asked. “I've always wanted to learn how to play cards."

  "Well if this don't beat all,” the man with the string tie said. “I don't think I've ever played cards with a priest and two ladies."

  * * * *

  The conductors required a small cash incentive before agreeing to set up a table near the heating stove at the front end of the passenger car. The man with the string tie paid them happily enough, then took a seat at the table next to the cold stove, clearly eager to begin play.

  Corey moved himself to the first row of seats behind the table where he could easily keep an eye on Patrick and Miss Parson. In doing so, he somewhat rudely beat out the Bible-thumping old woman and her family. Why she would want to be close to the action he did not know, but Corey felt certain that the players would be more comfortable if she sat back a few rows.

  The old woman stood before Corey clearly waiting for him to volunteer to move. Corey squirmed but held his ground. Rudeness to a white woman was unnatural in the West, but his common sense told him that this was an acceptable exception. The old woman looked Corey up and down, taking in the fading purple bruises on his face and the still evident swelling on his hands. Then she sniffed with disdain and led her family several rows farther back.

  "Now that that unpleasantness is finished,” the priest said. “Why don't we all get better acquainted. I am Father Murphy.” He reached into the carpetbag at his feet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “And this is my good friend, Jack. Any of you players who would like to become better acquainted with Jack, just let me know and I'll pass him around the table."

  "Alcohol!” the old woman moaned. “Is there no end to this deviltry?"

  Father Murphy took a long swig from the bottle and smacked his lips with satisfaction, seeming to delight in the woman's distress. “Now then, we all know who I am, but as to the rest of you?” He turned toward Patrick, who was sitting on his left.

  "Patrick O'Sullivan,” the old man answered. “I train boxers. That there,” he indicated Corey with a nod, “is my pride and joy, Rock Quarry Callaghan."

  All eyes turned to study Corey's bruised face. “Forgive my asking,” the young woman next to Patrick said, “but are you a good fighter, Mr. Callaghan?"

  Corey smiled. The young woman was a pretty little thing with long blond hair and thick eyelashes. “I didn't get these bruises in the ring, miss. I got them pulling him,” he indicated Patrick, “out of trouble."

  "I see,” she answered, then giggled slightly when she realized all eyes at the table were upon her. All the men smiled patiently. Miss Parson frowned.

  "Oh, my name is Jenny Lynn Davis, and I'm frightfully glad to have this opportunity to join your little game. I used to watch the menfolk play back at our home in Georgia. It's so wonderfully interesting."

  "I'm sure we are all quite glad to have you with us,” Lieutenant Ridgewood assured her. He twisted in his seat to look at Miss Parson. “I hope that the presence of you two ladies will help to keep this game friendly."

  "Indeed, Lieutenant,” Miss Parson agreed. She turned away from his smile to face the final man at the table. He had rare height and a breadth of shoulders that actually exceeded Corey's. “Mr. O'Sullivan has
already given you my name, and the lieutenant has introduced himself, but I don't believe you've offered your own name yet."

  The man with the string tie smiled, showing teeth stained brown with tobacco juice. “Well now, little lady, my name is Theodore Perkins, but all of you gamblers can simply call me Ted."

  "We're pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Perkins,” Miss Parson told him. “Did you bring a deck of cards for the game?"

  Perkins smile broadened. “Indeed I did, little lady.” He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a deck. His massive hand dwarfed the cards within it as he placed the deck in front of Miss Parson.

  The lady gambler opened the deck and expertly rifled through the cards. They apparently satisfied her, and she returned the cards to Perkins with a slight smile.

  Perkins took the deck. “Why don't we start with a simple game of five-card draw?"

  * * * *

  Luck is a strange and fickle lady. It was impossible to guess who she would favor with her charms. For as long as Corey had known Patrick, Luck had turned her back on the old man whenever he sat down to play cards. That afternoon on the train out of Cheyenne, Lady Luck not only smiled on Patrick, she sat down on his lap and kissed him on the cheek.

  Patrick, it seemed, could do no wrong. Whether he held his hand pat or traded his cards, he always seemed to draw a winning hand. If he did lose, it was because he folded, or the pot would prove so trifling that the loss scarcely mattered. And with each successive win, the old man's enthusiasm would grow while the pleasure of his companions diminished. By the time the train approached Laramie, Patrick had accumulated four times his starting stake, with the losses coming most heavily from Perkins and Miss Parson.

  "If General Grant had folded during the war like I have today,” Lieutenant Ridgewood observed, “the South would still own its slaves."

  Miss Davis bristled at the lieutenant's words, which caused Miss Parson to smile and address him. “You are so clever, Lieutenant,” she told him. “I'm glad that someone at this table can keep his spirits up while Mr. O'Sullivan corners all the luck. Not that you are doing as poorly as I am."