HEAVEN'S PRISONERS IS a long, meandering movie that feels
like it ought to be good.
All the elements are in place--a steamy setting on a Louisiana
bayou, intriguing bad guys hell-bent on malfeasance, a world-weary
hero trying to stay off the bottle--and yet, it never rises above
the level of mediocre. This is mostly due to a rambling, sentimental
plot that never even tries to be clever--or, at the very least,
cohesive. Even the title, Heaven's Prisoners, suffers from
the same lack of center as the movie as a whole. Why is it entitled
Heaven's Prisoners? Can one in fact be incarcerated in
heaven? Is this, like, a metaphor for the struggles of the characters
or something?
There's nothing in Heaven's Prisoners that hints to the
origin of the title (except for a couple of extraneous scenes
in a church), but I have a theory: It's called Heaven's Prisoners
because it sounds good without really meaning anything.
(The guy ahead of me in the line couldn't pick out the title and
just asked for a ticket to "the one with Teri Hatcher in
it.")
The movie is set in bayou country and in New Orleans because
these are places that look nice on film. It stars Alec Baldwin
and three hot babes because hey, you can't beat the sight of a
Baldwin flanked by babes. In short: all style, negligible content.
This would be more palatable if the content weren't so long-winded
and didn't take itself so seriously.
Barb Wire, by counterpoint, is another empty exercise
in style and exhibitionism that at least has the grace never to
promise anything more. Heaven's Prisoners, on the other
hand, is the supposedly deep story of a guy called Dave Robicheaux
(Baldwin), an ex-cop who's quit the New Orleans police force and
gone on the wagon with a vengeance. He lives in the Louisiana
backcountry with his endlessly supportive wife (Kelly Lynch).
We know Robicheaux is an ex-cop because every single character
he encounters in the first hour of this movie exclaims, "You
look like a cop," or, "You're not a cop anymore,"
or, "Aren't you that cop I used to know?" Hmmm, maybe
the man used to be a policeman.
Robicheaux gets sucked back into cop-like action when he and
his wife accidentally become entangled with unsavory drug dealers
and an adorable orphaned child from Central America. The bad guys
are led by the imposing Eric Roberts, in Bo Derek corn rows, along
with his bad-seed wife Teri Hatcher. It's impossible to tell which
of the two is more intrinsically evil, and more importantly, it's
hard to care. The plot is simply too poorly thought-out for the
scheming and double-crossings of the villains to be intriguing.
Half the fun of thrillers is trying to figure out who did what
to whom--but this movie is so amorphous, it's difficult to even
begin to frame questions, much less answers. Information seems
to be missing or present in an incomplete form. The big picture
is fuzzy. What is clear is that bad guys are after Robicheaux,
and he, in turn, is after them. When they encounter one another,
they fight. This continues for two-and-a-half hours.
Director Phil Joanou, known for the steamy but elliptical TV
miniseries Wild Palms, is no doubt the culprit here. He
began as a music video director and his previous work has been
predictably long on moodiness and short on story.
And though Heaven's Prisoners lacks a premise, its visual
texture is rich and fascinating. The swampland is a lush and evocative
backdrop to the action, and half the bad guys seem to have overflowing
Voodoo shrines in their apartments. Baldwin, constantly soaked
with sweat, travels through a series of broken-down New Orleans
streets and bars talking to strippers who can't get up early enough
to go to the funerals of their friends. One joint, called The
Jungle Room, has a cage full of monkeys behind the bar that the
patrons feed peanuts.
The actors, too, are interesting to watch, though none has much
to work with. Roberts manages to bring presence and energy to
his thinly drawn role, and Baldwin carries a kind of Cary Grant
quality--he's big, good-looking and stiff, but he just seems like
a movie star. If only he didn't speak with that phony southern
accent. The female cast members suffer more at the hands of the
clichéd script as each tries to fulfill the same task of
trying to look obsessed with Baldwin. And yes, Hatcher appears
nude, but only briefly. Then she runs away. Maybe she's off to
plot her escape from heaven, in which she's imprisoned, or something.